Chapter XII: Appendix: Stanzas Omitted in the Second Edition (1596) 517 (10)
Fortune, the foe of famous cheuisaunce viii
Seldome (said _Guyon_) yields to vertue aide,
But in her way throwes mischiefe and mischaunce,
Whereby her course is stopt, and passage staid.
But you,[728] faire Sir, be not herewith dismaid,
But constant keepe the way, in which ye stand;
Which were it not, that I am else delaid
With hard aduenture, which I haue in hand,
I labour would to guide you through all Faery land.
Gramercy Sir (said he) but mote I weete,[729] ix
What straunge aduenture do ye now pursew?
Perhaps my succour, or aduizement meete
Mote stead you much your purpose to subdew.
Then gan Sir _Guyon_ all the story shew
Of false _Acrasia_, and her wicked wiles,
Which to auenge, the Palmer him forth drew
From Faery court. So talked they, the whiles
They wasted had much way, and measurd many miles.
And now faire _Phœbus_ gan decline in hast x
His weary wagon to the Westerne vale,
Whenas they spide a goodly castle, plast
Foreby a riuer in a pleasaunt dale,
Which choosing for that euenings hospitale,
They thither marcht: but when they came in sight,
And from their sweaty Coursers did auale,
They found the gates fast barred long ere night,
And euery loup fast lockt, as fearing foes despight.
Which when they saw, they weened fowle reproch xi
Was to them doen, their entrance to forstall,
Till that the Squire gan nigher to approch;
And wind his horne vnder the castle wall,
That with the noise it shooke, as it would fall:
Eftsoones forth looked from the highest spire
The watch, and lowd vnto the knights did call,
To weete, what they so rudely did require.
Who gently answered, They entrance did desire.
Fly fly, good knights, (said he) fly fast away xii
If that your liues ye loue, as meete ye should;
Fly fast, and saue your selues from neare decay,
Here may ye not haue entraunce, though we would:
We would and would againe, if that we could;
But thousand enemies about vs raue,
And with long siege vs in this castle hould:
Seuen yeares this wize they vs besieged haue,
And many good knights slaine, that haue vs sought to saue.
Thus as he spoke[730], loe with outragious cry xiii
A thousand villeins round about them swarmd
Out of the rockes and caues adioyning nye,
Vile caytiue wretches, ragged, rude, deformd,
All threatning death, all in straunge manner armd,
Some with vnweldy clubs, some with long speares,
Some rusty kniues, some staues in fire warmd.
Sterne was their looke, like wild amazed steares,
Staring with hollow eyes, and stiffe vpstanding heares.
Fiersly at first those knights they did assaile, xiv
And droue them to recoile: but when againe
They gaue fresh charge, their forces gan to faile,
Vnhable their encounter to sustaine;
For with such puissaunce and impetuous maine
Those Champions broke on them, that forst them fly,
Like scattered Sheepe, whenas the Shepheards swaine
A Lyon and a Tigre doth espye,
With greedy pace forth rushing from the forest nye.
A while they fled, but soone returnd againe xv
With greater fury, then before was found;
And euermore their cruell Capitaine[731]
Sought with his raskall routs t’enclose them round,
And ouerrun to tread them to the ground.
But soone the knights with their bright-burning blades
Broke their rude troupes, and orders did confound,
Hewing and slashing at their idle shades;
For though they bodies seeme, yet substance from them fades.
As when a swarme of Gnats at euentide xvi
Out of the fennes of Allan do arise,
Their murmuring small trompets sounden wide,
Whiles in the aire their clustring army flies,
That as a cloud doth seeme to dim the skies;
Ne man nor beast may rest, or take repast,
For their sharpe wounds, and noyous iniuries,
Till the fierce Northerne wind with[732] blustring blast
Doth blow them quite away, and in the _Ocean_ cast.
Thus when they had that troublous rout disperst, xvii
Vnto the castle gate they come againe,
And entraunce crau’d, which was denied erst.
Now when report of that their perilous[733] paine,
And combrous conflict[734], which they did sustaine,
Came to the Ladies eare, which there did dwell,
She forth issewed with a goodly traine
Of Squires and Ladies equipaged well,
And entertained them right fairely, as befell.
_Alma_ she called was, a virgin bright; xviii
That had not yet felt _Cupides_ wanton rage,
Yet was she woo’d of many a gentle knight,
And many a Lord of noble parentage,
That sought with her to lincke in marriage:
For she was faire, as faire mote euer bee,
And in the flowre now of her freshest age;
Yet full of grace and goodly modestee,
That euen heauen reioyced her sweete face to see.
In robe of lilly white she was arayd, xix
That from her shoulder to her heele downe raught,
The traine whereof loose far behind her strayd,
Braunched with gold and pearle, most richly wrought,
And borne of two faire Damsels, which were taught
That seruice well. Her yellow golden heare
Was trimly wouen, and in tresses wrought,
Ne other tyre she on her head did weare,
But crowned[735] with a garland of sweete Rosiere.
Goodly she entertaind those noble knights, xx
And brought them vp into her castle hall;
Where gentle court and gracious delight
She to them made, with mildnesse virginall,
Shewing her selfe both wise and liberall:
There[736] when they rested had a season dew,
They her besought of fauour speciall,
Of that faire Castle to affoord them vew;
She graunted, and them leading forth, the same did shew.
First she them[737] led vp to the Castle wall, xxi
That was so high, as foe might not it clime,
And all so faire, and fensible[738] withall,
Not built of bricke, ne yet of stone and lime,
But of thing like to that _Ægyptian_ slime,
Whereof king _Nine_ whilome built _Babell_ towre;
But O great pitty, that no lenger time[739]
So goodly workemanship should not endure:
Soone it must turne to earth; no earthly thing is sure.
The frame thereof seemd partly circulare, xxii
And part triangulare, O worke diuine;
Those two the first and last proportions are,
The one imperfect, mortall, fœminine;
Th’other immortall, perfect, masculine,
And twixt them both a quadrate was the base,
Proportioned equally by seuen and nine;
Nine was the circle set in heauens place,
All which compacted made a goodly diapase[740].
Therein two gates were placed seemly well: xxiii
The one before, by which all in did pas,
Did th’other far in workmanship excell;
For not of wood, nor of enduring bras,
But of more worthy substance fram’d it was;
Doubly disparted, it did locke and close,
That when it locked, none might thorough pas,
And when it opened, no man might it close,
Still open to their friends, and closed to their foes.
Of hewen stone the porch was fairely wrought, xxiv
Stone more of valew, and more smooth and fine,
Then Iet or Marble far from Ireland brought;
Ouer the which was cast a wandring vine,
Enchaced with a wanton yuie twine.
And ouer it a faire Portcullis hong,
Which to the gate directly did incline,
With comely compasse, and compacture strong,
Neither vnseemely short, nor yet exceeding long.
Within the Barbican a Porter sate, xxv
Day and night duely keeping watch and ward,
Nor wight, nor word mote passe out of the gate,
But in good order, and with dew regard;
Vtterers of secrets he from thence debard,
Bablers of folly, and blazers of crime.
His larumbell might lowd and wide be hard,
When cause requird, but neuer out of time;
Early and late it rong, at euening and at prime.
And round about the porch on euery side xxvi
Twise sixteen warders sat, all armed bright
In glistring steele, and strongly fortifide:
Tall yeomen seemed they, and of great might,
And were enraunged ready, still for fight.
By them as _Alma_ passed with her guestes,
They did obeysaunce, as beseemed right,
And then againe returned to their restes:
The Porter eke to her did lout with humble gestes.
Thence she them brought into a stately Hall, xxvii
Wherein were many tables faire dispred,
And ready dight with drapets festiuall,
Against the viaundes should be ministred.
At th’upper end there sate, yclad in red
Downe to the ground, a comely personage,
That in his hand a white rod menaged,
He Steward was hight _Diet_; rype of age,
And in demeanure sober, and in counsell sage.
And through the Hall there walked to and fro xxviii
A iolly yeoman, Marshall of the same,
Whose name was _Appetite_; he did bestow
Both guestes and meate, when euer in they came,
And knew them how to order without blame,
As him the Steward bad. They both attone
Did dewty to their Lady, as became;
Who passing by, forth led her guestes anone
Into the kitchin rowme, ne spard for nicenesse none.
It was a vaut ybuilt for great dispence, xxix
With many raunges reard along the wall;
And one great chimney, whose long tonnell thence[741]
The smoke forth threw. And in the midst of all
There placed was a caudron wide and tall,
Vpon a mighty furnace, burning whot,
More whot, then _Aetn’_, or flaming _Mongiball_:
For day and night it brent, ne ceased not,
So long as any thing it in the caudron got.
But to delay the heat, least by mischaunce xxx
It might breake out, and set the whole on fire,
There added was by goodly ordinaunce,
An huge great paire of bellowes, which did styre
Continually, and cooling breath inspyre.
About the Caudron many Cookes accoyld,
With hookes and ladles, as need did require;
The whiles the viandes in the vessell boyld
They did about their businesse sweat, and sorely toyld.
The maister Cooke was cald _Concoction_, xxxi
A carefull man, and full of comely guise:
The kitchin Clerke, that hight _Digestion_,
Did order all th’Achates[742] in seemely wise,
And set them forth, as well he could deuise.
The rest had seuerall offices assind,
Some to remoue the scum, as it did rise;
Others to beare the same away did mind;
And others it to vse according to his kind.
But all the liquour, which was fowle and wast, xxxii
Not good nor seruiceable else for ought,
They in another great round vessell plast,
Till by a conduit pipe it thence were brought:
And all the rest, that noyous was, and nought,
By secret wayes, that none might it espy,
Was close conuaid, and to the back-gate brought,
That cleped was _Port Esquiline_, whereby
It was auoided quite, and throwne out priuily.
Which goodly order, and great workmans skill xxxiii
Whenas those knights beheld, with rare delight,
And gazing wonder they their minds did fill;
For neuer had they seene so straunge a sight.
Thence backe againe faire _Alma_ led them right,
And soone into a goodly Parlour brought,
That was with royall arras richly dight,
In which was nothing pourtrahed, nor wrought,
Not wrought, nor pourtrahed, but easie to be thought.
And in the midst thereof vpon the floure, xxxiv
A louely beuy of faire Ladies sate,
Courted of many a iolly Paramoure,
The which them did in modest wise amate,
And eachone sought his Lady to aggrate:
And eke emongst them litle _Cupid_ playd
His wanton sports, being returned late
From his fierce warres, and hauing from him layd
His cruell bow, wherewith he thousands hath dismayd.
Diuerse delights they found them selues to please; xxxv
Some song in sweet consort, some laught for ioy,
Some plaid with strawes, some idly sat at ease;
But other some could not abide to toy,
All pleasaunce was to them griefe and annoy:
This fround, that faund, the third for shame did blush,
Another seemed enuious, or coy,
Another in her teeth did gnaw a rush:
But at these straungers presence euery one did hush.
Soone as the gracious _Alma_ came in place, xxxvi
They all attonce out of their seates arose,
And to her homage made, with humble grace:
Whom when the knights beheld, they gan dispose
Themselues to court, and each a Damsell chose:
The Prince by chaunce did on a Lady light,
That was right faire and fresh as morning rose,
But somwhat sad, and solemne eke in sight,
As if some pensiue thought constraind her gentle spright.
In a long purple pall, whose skirt with gold[743] xxxvii
Was fretted all about, she was arayd;
And in her hand a Poplar braunch did hold:
To whom the Prince in curteous manner said;
Gentle Madame, why beene ye thus dismaid,
And your faire beautie do with sadnesse spill?
Liues any, that you hath thus ill apaid?
Or doen you loue,[744] or doen you lacke your will?
What euer be the cause, it sure beseemes you ill.
Faire Sir, (said she halfe in disdainefull wise,) xxxviii
How is it, that this mood[745] in me ye blame,
And in your selfe do not the same aduise?
Him ill beseemes, anothers fault to name,
That may vnwares be blotted with the same:
Pensiue I yeeld I am, and sad in mind,
Through great desire of glory and of fame;
Ne ought I weene are ye therein behind,
That haue twelue moneths[746] sought one, yet no where can her find.
The Prince was inly moued at her speach, xxxix
Well weeting trew, what she had rashly told;
Yet with faire semblaunt[747] sought to hide the breach,
Which chaunge of colour did perforce vnfold,
Now seeming flaming whot, now stony cold.
Tho turning soft aside, he did inquire,
What wight she was, that Poplar braunch did hold:
It answered was, her name was _Prays-desire_,
That by well doing sought to honour to aspire.
The whiles, the _Faerie_ knight did entertaine xl
Another Damsell of that gentle crew,
That was right faire, and modest of demaine,
But that too oft she chaung’d her natiue hew:
Straunge was her tyre, and all her garment blew,
Close round about her tuckt with many a plight:
Vpon her fist the bird, which shonneth vew,
And keepes in couerts close from liuing wight,
Did sit, as yet ashamd, how rude _Pan_ did her dight.
So long as _Guyon_ with her commoned[748], xli
Vnto the ground she cast her modest eye,
And euer and anone with rosie red
The bashfull bloud her snowy cheekes did dye,
That her became, as polisht yuory,
Which cunning Craftesmans[749] hand hath ouerlayd
With faire vermilion or pure Castory[750].
Great wonder had the knight, to see the mayd
So straungely passioned, and to her gently sayd,
Faire Damzell, seemeth, by your troubled cheare[751], xlii
That either me too bold ye weene, this wise
You to molest, or other ill to feare
That in the secret of your hart close lyes,
From whence it doth, as cloud from sea arise.
If it be I, of pardon I you pray;
But if ought else that I mote not deuise,
I will, if please you it discure, assay,
To ease you of that ill, so wisely as I may.
She answerd nought, but more abasht for shame, xliii
Held downe her head, the whiles her louely face
The flashing bloud with blushing did inflame,
And the strong passion mard her modest grace,
That _Guyon_ meruayld at her vncouth cace:
Till _Alma_ him bespake, Why[752] wonder yee
Faire Sir at that, which ye so much embrace?
She is the fountaine of your modestee;
You shamefast[753] are, but _Shamefastnesse_ it selfe is shee.
Thereat the Elfe did blush in priuitee, xliv
And turnd his face away; but she the same
Dissembled faire, and faynd to ouersee.
Thus they awhile with court and goodly game,
Themselues did solace each one with his Dame,
Till that great Ladie thence away them sought,
To vew her castles other wondrous frame.
Vp to a stately Turret she them brought,
Ascending by ten steps of Alablaster wrought.
That Turrets frame most admirable was, xlv
Like highest heauen compassed around,
And lifted high aboue this earthly masse,
Which it suruew’d, as hils doen lower ground;
But not on ground mote like to this be found,
Not that, which antique _Cadmus_ whylome built
In _Thebes_, which _Alexander_ did confound;
Nor that proud towre of _Troy_, though richly guilt,
From which young _Hectors_ bloud by cruell _Greekes_ was spilt.
The roofe hereof was arched ouer head, xlvi
And deckt with flowers and herbars daintily;
Two goodly Beacons, set in watches stead,
Therein gaue light, and flam’d continually:
For they of liuing fire most subtilly
Were made, and set in siluer sockets bright,
Couer’d with lids deuiz’d of substance sly,
That readily they shut and open might.
O who can tell the prayses of that makers might!
Ne can I tell, ne can I stay to tell xlvii
This parts great workmanship, and wondrous powre,
That all this other worlds worke doth excell,
And likest is vnto that heauenly towre,
That God hath built for his owne blessed bowre.
Therein were diuerse roomes, and diuerse stages,
But three the chiefest, and of greatest powre,
In which there dwelt three honorable sages,
The wisest men, I weene, that liued in their ages.
Not he, whom _Greece_, the Nourse of all good arts, xlviii
By _Phœbus_ doome, the wisest thought aliue,
Might be compar’d to these[754] by many parts:
Nor that sage _Pylian_ syre, which did suruiue
Three ages, such as mortall men contriue,
By whose aduise old _Priams_ cittie fell,
With these in praise of pollicies mote striue.
These three in these three roomes did sundry dwell,
And counselled faire _Alma_, how to gouerne well.
The first of them could things to come foresee: xlix
The next could of things present best aduize;
The third things past could keepe in memoree,
So that no time, nor reason[755] could arize,
But that the same could one of these comprize.
For thy the first did in the forepart sit,
That nought mote hinder his quicke preiudize:
He had a sharpe foresight, and working wit,
That neuer idle was, ne once could[756] rest a whit.
His chamber was dispainted all within, l
With sundry colours, in the which were writ
Infinite shapes of things dispersed thin;
Some such as in the world were neuer yit,
Ne can deuized be of mortall wit;
Some daily seene, and knowen by their names,
Such as in idle fantasies doe flit:
Infernall Hags, _Centaurs_, feendes, _Hippodames_,
Apes, Lions, Ægles, Owles, fooles, louers, children, Dames.
And all the chamber filled was with flyes, li
Which buzzed all about, and made such sound,
That they encombred all mens eares and eyes,
Like many swarmes of Bees assembled round,
After their hiues with honny do abound:
All those were idle thoughts and fantasies,
Deuices, dreames, opinions vnsound,
Shewes, visions, sooth-sayes, and prophesies;
And all that fained is, as leasings, tales, and lies.
Emongst them all sate he, which wonned there, lii
That hight _Phantastes_ by his nature trew;
A man of yeares yet fresh, as mote appere,
Of swarth complexion, and of crabbed hew,
That him full of melancholy did shew;
Bent hollow beetle browes, sharpe staring eyes,
That mad or foolish seemd: one by his vew
Mote deeme him borne with ill disposed skyes,
When oblique _Saturne_ sate in the house[757] of agonyes.
Whom _Alma_ hauing shewed to her guestes, liii
Thence brought them to the second roome, whose wals
Were painted faire with memorable gestes,
Of famous Wisards, and with picturals
Of Magistrates, of courts, of tribunals,
Of commen wealthes, of states, of pollicy,
Of lawes, of iudgements, and of decretals;
All artes, all science, all Philosophy,
And all that in the world was aye thought wittily.
Of those that roome was full, and them among liv
There sate a man of ripe and perfect age,
Who did them meditate all his life long,
That through continuall practise and vsage,
He now was growne right wise, and wondrous sage.
Great pleasure had those stranger knights, to see
His goodly reason, and graue personage,
That his disciples both desir’d to bee;
But _Alma_ thence them led to th’hindmost roome of three.
That chamber seemed ruinous and old, lv
And therefore was remoued farre behind,
Yet were the wals, that did the same vphold,
Right firme and strong, though somewhat they declind;
And therein sate an old oldman, halfe blind,
And all decrepit in his feeble corse,
Yet liuely vigour rested in his mind,
And recompenst him with a better scorse:
Weake body well is[758] chang’d for minds redoubled forse.
This man of infinite remembrance was, lvi
And things foregone through many ages held,
Which he recorded still, as they did pas,
Ne suffred them to perish through long eld,
As all things else, the which this world doth weld,
But laid them vp in his immortall scrine,
Where they for euer incorrupted dweld:
The warres he well remembred of king _Nine_,
Of old _Assaracus_, and _Inachus_ diuine.
The yeares of _Nestor_ nothing were to[759] his, lvii
Ne yet _Mathusalem_, though longest liu’d;
For he remembred both their infancies:
Ne wonder then, if that he were depriu’d
Of natiue strength now, that he them suruiu’d.
His chamber all was hangd about with rolles,
And old records from auncient times deriu’d,
Some made in books, some in long parchment scrolles,
That were all worme-eaten, and full of canker holes.
Amidst them all he in a chaire was set, lviii
Tossing and turning them withouten end;
But for he was vnhable them to fet,
A litle boy did on him still attend,
To reach, when euer he for ought did send;
And oft when things were lost, or laid amis,
That boy them sought, and vnto him did lend.
Therefore he _Anamnestes_ cleped is,
And that old man _Eumnestes_, by their propertis.
The knights there entring, did him reuerence dew lix
And wondred at his endlesse exercise,
Then as they gan his Librarie to vew,
And antique Registers for to auise,
There chaunced to the Princes hand to rize,
An auncient booke, hight _Briton moniments_,
That of this lands first conquest did deuize,
And old diuision into Regiments,
Till it reduced was to one mans gouernments.
Sir _Guyon_ chaunst eke on another booke, lx
That hight _Antiquitie_ of _Faerie_ lond,[760]
In which when as he greedily did looke,[761]
Th’off-spring of Elues and Faries there he fond,
As it deliuered was from hond to hond:
Whereat they burning both with feruent fire,
Their countries auncestry to vnderstond,
Crau’d leaue of _Alma_, and that aged sire,
To read those bookes; who gladly graunted their desire.
FOOTNOTES:
[721] Arg. 4 _fight_ _1596_, _1609_
[722] i 5 incedent _1590_: _corr. F. E._
[723] v 3 thee] a _1609_
[724] vi 9 _Arthogall_, _1590_
[725] vii 5 Now hath] Seuen times _1590_
[726] 6 Walkt round] Hath walkte _1590_. _Cf._ I ix 15
[727] 7 Since _1609_
[728] viii 5 you _1596_
[729] ix 1 weete,] wote, _1590 &c. MS. corr. in Malone 615_
[730] xiii 1 spake _1609_
[731] xv 3 Captaine _1590_, _1596_
[732] xvi 8 with _om. 1596_
[733] xvii 4 perlous _1590_
[734] 5 comflict _1596_
[735] xix 9 crownd _1590_: _corr. F. E._
[736] xx 6 There] Then _1590_
[737] xxi 1 them] him _1590_
[738] 3 sensible _1596_, _1609_
[739] 7 lenger a time _1590_: _corr. F. E._
[740] xxii 9 _Dyapase_ _1590 &c._: _corr. F. E._
[741] xxix 3 thence, _1590 &c._
[742] xxxi 4 th’Achates] the cates _1609_
[743] xxxvii 1 gold, _1590_, _1596_
[744] 8 you loue,] your loue, _1590_, _1596_: _corr. 1609_
[745] xxxviii 2 mood] word _1590 &c._: _corr. Morris_
[746] 9 twelue moneths] three years _1590_
[747] xxxix 3 samblaunt _1596_
[748] xli 1 communed _1609_
[749] 6 Craftesman _1590_, _1596_
[750] 7 Castory] lastery _1590 &c._: _corr. F. E._
[751] xlii 1 cheare] cleare _1590_
[752] xliii 6 why _1590_, _1596_
[753] 9 shamefac’t _1609_
[754] xlviii 3 these] this _1590_
[755] xlix 4 reason] season _Drayton_ (_teste Collier_)
[756] 9 would _1590_
[757] lii 9 th’house _1609_
[758] lv 9 welis _1590_: _corr. F. E._
[759] lvii i to] so _1590_
_Cant. X._
_A chronicle of Briton kings,
from Brute to Vthers rayne.
And rolles of Elfin Emperours,
till time of Gloriane._
]
Who now shall giue vnto me words and sound, i
Equall vnto this haughtie enterprise?
Or who shall lend me wings, with which from ground
My lowly verse may loftily arise,
And lift it selfe vnto the highest skies?
More ample spirit, then hitherto was wount,
Here needes me, whiles the famous auncestries
Of my most dreaded Soueraigne I recount,
By which all earthly Princes she doth farre surmount.
Ne vnder Sunne, that shines so wide and faire, ii
Whence all that liues, does borrow life and light,
Liues ought, that to her linage may compaire,
Which though from earth it be deriued right,
Yet doth it selfe stretch forth to heauens hight,
And all the world with wonder ouerspred;
A labour huge, exceeding farre my might:
How shall fraile pen, with feare disparaged,
Conceiue such soueraine glory, and great bountihed?
Argument worthy of _Mœonian_ quill, iii
Or rather worthy of great _Phœbus_ rote,
Whereon the ruines of great _Ossa_ hill,
And triumphes of _Phlegræan Ioue_ he wrote,
That all the Gods admird his loftie note.
But if some relish of that heauenly lay
His learned daughters would to me report,
To decke my song withall, I would assay,
Thy name, O soueraine Queene, to blazon farre away.
Thy name O soueraine Queene, thy realme and race, iv
From this renowmed Prince deriued arre,
Who[762] mightily vpheld that royall mace,
Which now thou bear’st, to thee descended farre
From mightie kings and conquerours in warre,
Thy fathers and great[763] Grandfathers of old[764],
Whose noble deedes aboue the Northerne starre
Immortall fame for euer hath enrold;
As in that old mans booke they were in order told.
The land, which warlike Britons now possesse, v
And therein haue their mightie empire raysd,
In antique times was saluage wildernesse,
Vnpeopled, vnmanurd, vnprou’d, vnpraysd,
Ne was it Island then, ne was it paysd
Amid the _Ocean_ waues, ne was it sought
Of marchants[765] farre, for profits therein praysd,
But was all desolate, and of some thought
By sea to haue bene from the Celticke mayn-land brought.
Ne did it then deserue a name to haue, vi
Till that the venturous Mariner that way
Learning his ship from those white rocks to saue,
Which all along the Southerne sea-coast lay,
Threatning vnheedie wrecke and rash decay,
For safeties sake[766] that same his sea-marke made,
And namd it _Albion_. But later day
Finding in it fit ports for fishers trade,
Gan more the same frequent, and further to inuade.
But farre in land a saluage nation dwelt, vii
Of hideous Giants, and halfe beastly men,
That neuer tasted grace, nor goodnesse felt,
But like wild beasts lurking in loathsome den,
And flying fast as Roebucke through the fen,
All naked without shame, or care of cold,
By hunting and by spoiling liued then[767];
Of stature huge, and eke of courage bold,
That sonnes of men amazd their sternnesse to behold.
But whence they sprong, or how they were begot, viii
Vneath is to assure; vneath to wene
That monstrous error, which doth some assot,
That _Dioclesians_ fiftie daughters shene
Into this land by chaunce haue driuen bene,
Where companing with feends and filthy Sprights,
Through vaine illusion of their lust vnclene,
They brought forth Giants and such dreadfull wights,
As farre exceeded men in their immeasurd mights.
They held this land, and with their filthinesse ix
Polluted this same gentle soyle long time:
That their owne mother loathd their beastlinesse,
And gan abhorre her broods vnkindly crime,
All were they borne of her owne natiue slime,
Vntill that _Brutus_ anciently deriu’d
From royall stocke of old _Assaracs_[768] line,
Driuen by fatall error, here arriu’d,
And them of their vniust possession depriu’d.
But ere he had established his throne, x
And spred his empire to the vtmost shore,
He fought great battels with his saluage fone;
In which he them defeated euermore,
And many Giants left on groning flore;
That well can witnesse yet vnto this day
The westerne Hogh, besprincled with the gore
Of mightie _Goëmot_, whom in stout fray
_Corineus_ conquered, and cruelly did slay.
And eke that ample Pit, yet farre renownd, xi
For the large leape, which _Debon_ did compell
_Coulin_ to make, being eight lugs of grownd;
Into the which returning backe, he fell,
But those three monstrous stones doe most excell
Which that huge sonne of hideous _Albion_,
Whose father _Hercules_ in Fraunce did quell,
Great _Godmer_ threw, in fierce contention,
At bold _Canutus_; but of him was slaine anon.
In meed of these great conquests by them got, xii
_Corineus_ had that[769] Prouince vtmost west,
To him assigned for his worthy lot,
Which of his name and memorable gest
He called _Cornewaile_, yet so called best:
And _Debons_ shayre was, that is _Deuonshyre_:
But _Canute_ had his portion from the rest,
The which he cald _Canutium_, for his hyre;
Now _Cantium_, which Kent we commenly inquire.
Thus _Brute_ this Realme vnto his rule subdewd, xiii
And raigned long in great felicitie,
Lou’d of his friends, and of his foes eschewd,
He left three sonnes, his famous progeny,
Borne of faire _Inogene_ of _Italy_;
Mongst whom he parted his imperiall state,
And _Locrine_ left chiefe Lord of _Britany_.
At last ripe age bad him surrender late
His life, and long good fortune vnto finall fate.
_Locrine_ was left the soueraine Lord of all; xiv
But _Albanact_ had all the Northrene part,
Which of himselfe _Albania_ he did call;
And _Camber_ did possesse the Westerne quart,
Which _Seuerne_ now from _Logris_ doth depart:
And each his portion peaceably enioyd,
Ne was there outward breach, nor grudge in hart,
That once their quiet gouernment annoyd,
But each his paines to others profit still employd.
Vntill a nation straung, with visage swart, xv
And courage fierce, that all men did affray,
Which through the world then swarmd in euery part,
And ouerflow’d all countries farre away,
Like _Noyes_ great flood, with their importune sway,
This land inuaded with like violence,
And did themselues through all the North display:
Vntill that _Locrine_ for his Realmes defence,
Did head against them make, and strong munifience[770].
He them encountred, a confused rout, xvi
Foreby the Riuer, that whylome was hight
The auncient _Abus_, where with courage stout
He them defeated in victorious fight,
And chaste so fiercely after fearfull flight,
That forst their Chieftaine, for his safeties sake,
(Their Chieftaine _Humber_ named was aright)
Vnto the mightie streame him to betake,
Where he an end of battell, and of life did make.
The king returned proud of victorie, xvii
And insolent wox through vnwonted ease,
That shortly he forgot the ieopardie,
Which in his land he lately did appease,
And fell to vaine voluptuous disease:
He lou’d faire Ladie _Estrild_, lewdly lou’d,
Whose wanton pleasures him too much did please,
That quite his hart from _Guendolene_ remou’d,
From _Guendolene_ his wife, though alwaies faithfull prou’d.
The noble daughter of _Corineus_ xviii
Would not endure to be so vile disdaind,
But gathering force, and courage valorous,
Encountred him in battell well ordaind,
In which him vanquisht she to fly constraind:
But she so fast pursewd, that him she tooke,
And threw in bands, where he till death remaind;
Als his faire Leman, flying through a brooke,
She ouerhent, nought moued with her piteous looke.
But both her selfe, and eke her daughter deare, xix
Begotten by her kingly Paramoure,
The faire _Sabrina_ almost dead with feare,
She there attached, farre from all succoure;
The one she slew in that impatient stoure[771],
But the sad virgin innocent of all,
Adowne the rolling riuer she did poure,
Which of her name now _Seuerne_ men do call:
Such was the end, that to disloyall loue did fall.
Then for her sonne, which she to _Locrin_ bore, xx
_Madan_ was young, vnmeet the rule to sway[772],
In her owne hand the crowne she kept in store,
Till ryper yeares he raught, and stronger stay:
During which time her powre she did display
Through all this realme, the glorie of her sex,
And first taught men a woman to obay:
But when her sonne to mans estate did wex,
She it surrendred, ne her selfe would lenger vex.
Tho _Madan_ raignd, vnworthie of his race: xxi
For with all shame that sacred throne he fild:
Next _Memprise_, as vnworthy of that place,
In which being consorted with _Manild_,
For thirst of single kingdome him he kild.
But _Ebranck_ salued both their infamies
With noble deedes, and warreyd on _Brunchild_
In _Henault_, where yet of his victories
Braue moniments remaine, which yet that land enuies.
An happie man in his first dayes he was, xxii
And happie father of faire progeny:
For all so many weekes as the yeare has,
So many children he did multiply;
Of which were twentie sonnes, which did apply[773]
Their minds to praise, and cheualrous desire:
Those germans did subdew all Germany,
Of whom it hight; but in the end their Sire
With foule repulse from Fraunce was forced to retire.
Which blot his sonne succeeding in his seat, xxiii
The second _Brute_, the second both in name,
And eke in semblance of his puissance great,
Right well recur’d, and did away that blame
With recompence of euerlasting fame.
He with his victour sword first opened[774]
The bowels of wide Fraunce, a forlorne Dame,
And taught her first how to be conquered;
Since which, with sundrie spoiles she hath beene ransacked.
Let _Scaldis_ tell, and let tell _Hania_, xxiv
And let the marsh of _Estham bruges_ tell,
What colour were their waters that same day,
And all the moore twixt _Eluersham_ and _Dell_,
With bloud of _Henalois_, which therein fell.
How oft that day did sad _Brunchildis_ see
The greene shield dyde in dolorous vermell?
That not _Scuith guiridh_[775] it[776] mote seeme to bee,
But rather _y Scuith gogh_, signe of sad crueltee[777].
His sonne king _Leill_ by fathers labour long, xxv
Enioyd an heritage of lasting peace,
And built _Cairleill_, and built _Cairleon_ strong.
Next _Huddibras_ his realme did not encrease,
But taught the land from wearie warres to cease.
Whose footsteps _Bladud_ following, in arts
Exceld at _Athens_ all the learned preace,
From whence he brought them to these saluage parts,
And with sweet science mollifide their stubborne harts.
Ensample of his wondrous faculty, xxvi
Behold the boyling Bathes at _Cairbadon_,
Which seeth with secret fire eternally,
And in their entrails, full of quicke Brimston,
Nourish the flames, which they are warm’d vpon,
That to their[778] people wealth they forth do well,
And health to euery forreine nation:
Yet he at last contending to excell
The reach of men, through flight into fond mischief fell.
Next him king _Leyr_ in happie peace long raind, xxvii
But had no issue male him to succeed,
But three faire daughters, which were well vptraind,
In all that seemed fit for kingly seed:
Mongst whom his realme he equally decreed
To haue diuided. Tho when feeble age
Nigh to his vtmost date he saw proceed,
He cald his daughters; and with speeches sage
Inquyrd, which of them most did loue her parentage.
The eldest _Gonorill_[779] gan to protest, xxviii
That she much more then her owne life him lou’d:
And _Regan_ greater loue to him profest,
Then all the world, when euer it were proou’d;
But _Cordeill_ said she lou’d him, as behoou’d:
Whose simple answere, wanting colours faire
To paint it forth, him to displeasance moou’d,
That in his crowne he counted her no haire,
But twixt the other twaine his kingdome whole did shaire.
So wedded th’one to _Maglan_ king of Scots, xxix
And th’other to the king of _Cambria_,
And twixt them shayrd his realme by equall lots:
But without dowre the wise _Cordelia_[780]
Was sent to _Aganip_ of _Celtica_.
Their aged Syre, thus eased of his crowne,
A priuate life led in _Albania_,
With _Gonorill_, long had in great renowne,
That nought him grieu’d to bene from rule deposed downe.
But true it is, that when the oyle is spent, xxx
The light goes out, and weeke[781] is throwne away;
So when he had resigned his regiment,
His daughter gan despise his drouping day,
And wearie waxe[782] of his continuall stay.
Tho to his daughter _Regan_[783] he repayrd,
Who him at first well vsed euery way;
But when of his departure she despayrd,
Her bountie she abated, and his cheare empayrd.
The wretched man gan then auise too late, xxxi
That loue is not, where most it is profest,
Too truely tryde in his extreamest state;
At last resolu’d likewise to proue the rest,
He to _Cordelia_ him selfe addrest,
Who with entire affection him receau’d,
As for her Syre and king her seemed best;
And after all an army strong she leau’d,
To war on those, which him had of his realme bereau’d.
So to his crowne she him restor’d againe, xxxii
In which he dyde, made ripe for death by eld,
And after wild, it should to her remaine:
Who peaceably the same long time did weld:
And all mens harts in dew obedience held:
Till that her sisters children, woxen strong
Through proud ambition, against her rebeld,
And ouercommen kept in prison long,
Till wearie of that wretched life, her selfe she hong.
Then gan the bloudie brethren both to raine: xxxiii
But fierce _Cundah_ gan shortly to enuie
His brother _Morgan_, prickt with proud disdaine,
To haue a pere in part of soueraintie,
And kindling coles of cruell enmitie,
Raisd warre, and him in battell ouerthrew:
Whence as he to those woodie hils did flie,
Which hight of him _Glamorgan_, there him slew:
Then did he raigne alone, when he none equall knew.
His sonne _Riuallo_[784] his dead roome did supply, xxxiv
In whose sad time bloud did from heauen raine:
Next great _Gurgustus_, then faire _Cæcily_
In constant peace their kingdomes did containe,
After whom _Lago_, and _Kinmarke_ did raine,
And _Gorbogud_, till farre in yeares he grew:
Then[785] his ambitious sonnes vnto them twaine
Arraught the rule, and from their father drew,
Stout _Ferrex_ and sterne _Porrex_ him in prison threw.
But O, the greedy thirst of royall crowne, xxxv
That knowes no kinred, nor regardes no right,
Stird _Porrex_ vp to put his brother downe;
Who vnto him assembling forreine might,
Made warre on him, and fell him selfe in fight:
Whose death t’auenge, his mother mercilesse,
Most mercilesse of women, _Wyden_ hight,
Her other sonne fast sleeping did oppresse,
And with most cruell hand him murdred pittilesse.
Here ended _Brutus_ sacred progenie, xxxvi
Which had seuen hundred yeares this scepter borne,
With high renowme, and great felicitie;[786]
The noble braunch from th’antique stocke was torne
Through discord, and the royall throne forlorne:
Thenceforth this Realme was into factions rent,
Whilest each of _Brutus_ boasted to be borne,
That in the end was left no moniment
Of _Brutus_, nor of Britons glory auncient.
Then vp arose a man of matchlesse might, xxxvii
And wondrous wit to menage high affaires,
Who stird with[787] pitty of the stressed plight
Of this sad Realme, cut into sundry shaires
By such, as claymd themselues _Brutes_ rightfull haires,
Gathered the Princes of the people loose,
To taken counsell of their common cares;
Who with his wisedom won, him streight did choose
Their king, and swore him fealty to win or loose.
Then made he head against his enimies, xxxviii
And _Ymner_ slew, of[788] _Logris_ miscreate;
Then _Ruddoc_ and proud _Stater_, both allyes,
This of _Albanie_ newly nominate,
And that of _Cambry_ king confirmed late,
He ouerthrew through his owne valiaunce;
Whose countreis he redus’d to quiet state,
And shortly brought to ciuill gouernaunce,
Now one, which earst were many, made through variaunce.
Then made he sacred lawes, which some men say xxxix
Were vnto him reueald in vision,
By which he freed the Traueilers high way,
The Churches part, and Ploughmans portion,
Restraining stealth, and strong extortion;
The gracious _Numa_ of great _Britanie_:
For till his dayes, the chiefe dominion
By strength was wielded without pollicie;
Therefore he first wore crowne of gold for dignitie.
_Donwallo_ dyde (for what may liue for ay?) xl
And left two sonnes, of pearelesse prowesse both;
That sacked _Rome_ too dearely did assay,
The recompence of their periured oth,
And ransackt _Greece_ well tryde, when they were wroth;
Besides subiected _Fraunce_, and _Germany_,
Which yet their prayses speake, all be they loth,
And inly tremble at the memory
Of _Brennus_ and _Bellinus_, kings of Britany.
Next them did _Gurgunt_[789], great _Bellinus_ sonne xli
In rule succeede, and eke in fathers prayse;
He Easterland subdewd, and Danmarke[790] wonne,
And of them both did foy and tribute raise,
The which was dew in his dead fathers dayes:
He also gaue to fugitiues of _Spayne_,
Whom he at sea found wandring from their wayes,
A seate in _Ireland_ safely to remayne,
Which they should hold of him, as subiect to _Britayne_.
After him raigned _Guitheline_ his hayre, xlii
The iustest man and trewest in his dayes,
Who had to wife Dame _Mertia_ the fayre,
A woman worthy of immortall prayse,
Which for this Realme found many goodly layes,
And wholesome Statutes to her husband brought;
Her many deemd to haue beene of the _Fayes_,
As was _Aegerie_, that _Numa_ tought;
Those yet of her be _Mertian_ lawes both nam’d and thought.
Her sonne[791] _Sisillus_[792] after her did rayne, xliii
And then _Kimarus_, and then _Danius_;
Next whom _Morindus_ did the crowne sustaine,
Who, had he not with wrath outrageous,
And cruell rancour dim’d his valorous
And mightie deeds, should matched haue the best:
As well in that same field victorious
Against the forreine _Morands_ he exprest;
Yet liues his memorie, though carcas sleepe in rest.
Fiue sonnes[793] he left begotten of one wife, xliv
All which successiuely by turnes did raine;
First _Gorboman_ a man of vertuous life;
Next _Archigald_, who for his proud disdaine,
Deposed was from Princedome soueraine,
And pitteous _Elidure_ put in his sted;
Who shortly it to him restord againe,
Till by his death he it recouered;
But _Peridure_ and _Vigent_ him disthronized.
In wretched prison long he did remaine, xlv
Till they outraigned had their vtmost date,
And then therein reseized was againe,
And ruled long with honorable state,
Till he surrendred Realme and life to fate.
Then all the sonnes of these fiue brethren raynd
By dew successe, and all their Nephewes late,
Euen thrise eleuen descents the crowne retaynd,
Till aged _Hely_ by dew heritage it gaynd.
He had two sonnes, whose eldest called _Lud_ xlvi
Left of his life most famous memory,
And endlesse moniments of his great good:
The ruin’d wals he did reædifye
Of _Troynouant_, gainst force of enimy,
And built that gate, which of his name is hight,
By which he lyes entombed solemnly.
He left two sonnes, too young to rule aright,
_Androgeus_ and _Tenantius_, pictures of his might.
Whilst they were young, _Cassibalane_ their Eme xlvii
Was by the people chosen in their sted,
Who on him tooke the royall Diademe,
And goodly well long time it gouerned,
Till the prowd _Romanes_ him disquieted,
And warlike _Cæsar_, tempted with the name
Of this sweet Island, neuer conquered,
And enuying the Britons blazed fame,
(O hideous hunger of dominion) hither came.
Yet twise they were repulsed backe againe, xlviii
And twise renforst, backe to their ships to fly,
The whiles with bloud they all the shore did staine,
And the gray _Ocean_ into purple dy:
Ne had they footing found at last perdie,
Had not _Androgeus_, false to natiue soyle,
And enuious of Vncles soueraintie,
Betrayd his contrey vnto forreine spoyle:
Nought else, but treason, from the first this land did foyle.
So by him _Cæsar_ got the victory, xlix
Through great bloudshed, and many a sad assay,
In which him selfe was charged heauily
Of hardy _Nennius_, whom he yet did slay,
But lost his sword, yet to be seene this day.
Thenceforth this land was tributarie made
T’ambitious _Rome_, and did their rule obay,
Till _Arthur_ all that reckoning defrayd[794];
Yet oft the Briton kings against them strongly swayd.
Next him _Tenantius_ raigned, then _Kimbeline_, l
What time th’eternall Lord in fleshly slime
Enwombed was, from wretched _Adams_ line
To purge away the guilt of sinfull crime:
O ioyous memorie of happy time,
That heauenly grace so plenteously displayd;
(O too high ditty for my simple rime.)
Soone after this the _Romanes_ him warrayd[795];
For that their tribute he refusd to let be payd.
Good _Claudius_, that next was Emperour, li
An army brought, and with him battell fought,
In which the king was by a Treachetour
Disguised slaine, ere any thereof thought:
Yet ceased not the bloudy fight for ought;
For _Aruirage_ his brothers place supplide,
Both in his[796] armes, and crowne, and by that draught
Did driue the _Romanes_ to the weaker side,
That they to peace agreed. So all was pacifide.
Was neuer king more highly magnifide, lii
Nor dred of _Romanes_, then was _Aruirage_,
For which the Emperour to him allide
His daughter _Genuiss’_ in marriage:
Yet shortly he renounst the vassalage
Of _Rome_ againe, who hither hastly sent
_Vespasian_, that with great spoile and rage
Forwasted all, till _Genuissa_ gent
Perswaded him to ceasse, and her Lord to relent.
He dyde; and him succeeded _Marius_, liii
Who ioyd his dayes in[797] great tranquillity,
Then _Coyll_, and after him good _Lucius_,
That first receiued Christianitie,
The sacred pledge of Christes Euangely;
Yet true it is, that long before that day
Hither came _Ioseph_ of _Arimathy_,
Who brought with him the holy grayle, (they say)
And preacht the truth, but since it greatly did decay.
This good king shortly without issew dide, liv
Whereof great trouble in the kingdome grew,
That did her selfe in sundry parts diuide,
And with her powre her owne selfe ouerthrew,
Whilest _Romanes_ dayly did the weake subdew:
Which seeing stout _Bunduca_, vp arose,
And taking armes, the _Britons_ to her drew;
With whom she marched streight against her foes,
And them vnwares besides the _Seuerne_ did enclose.
There she with them a cruell battell tride, lv
Not with so good successe, as she deseru’d;
By reason that the Captaines on her side,
Corrupted by _Paulinus_, from her sweru’d:
Yet such, as were through former flight preseru’d[798],
Gathering againe, her Host she did renew,
And with fresh courage on the victour seru’d:
But being all defeated, saue a few,
Rather then fly, or be captiu’d her selfe she slew.
O famous moniment of womens prayse, lvi
Matchable either to _Semiramis_,
Whom antique history so high doth raise,
Or to _Hypsiphil’_ or to _Thomiris_:
Her Host two hundred thousand numbred is;
Who whiles good fortune fauoured her might,
Triumphed oft against her enimis;
And yet though ouercome in haplesse fight,
She triumphed on death, in enemies despight.
Her reliques _Fulgent_ hauing gathered, lvii
Fought with _Seuerus_, and him ouerthrew;
Yet in the chace was slaine of them, that fled:
So made them victours, whom he did subdew.
Then gan _Carausius_ tirannize anew,
And gainst the _Romanes_ bent their proper powre,
But him _Allectus_ treacherously slew,
And took on him the robe of Emperoure:
Nath’lesse the same enioyed but short happy howre:
For _Asclepiodate_ him ouercame, lviii
And left inglorious on the vanquisht playne,
Without or robe, or rag, to hide his shame.
Then afterwards he in his stead did rayne;
But shortly was by _Coyll_ in battell slaine:
Who after long debate, since _Lucies_ time,
Was of the _Britons_ first crownd Soueraine:
Then gan this Realme renewe her passed prime:
He of his name _Coylchester_ built of stone and lime.
Which when the _Romanes_ heard, they hither sent lix
_Constantius_, a man of mickle might,
With whom king _Coyll_ made an agreement,
And to him gaue for wife his daughter bright,
Faire _Helena_, the fairest liuing wight;
Who in all godly thewes, and goodly prayse
Did far excell, but was most famous hight
For skill in Musicke of all in her dayes,
Aswell in curious instruments, as cunning layes.
Of whom he did great _Constantine_ beget, lx
Who afterward was Emperour of _Rome_;
To which whiles absent he his mind did set,
_Octauius_ here lept into his roome,
And it vsurped by vnrighteous doome:
But he his title iustifide by might,
Slaying _Traherne_, and hauing ouercome
The _Romane_ legion in dreadfull fight:
So settled he his kingdome, and confirmd his right.
But wanting issew male, his daughter deare[799] lxi
He gaue in wedlocke to _Maximian_,
And him with her made of his kingdome heyre,
Who soone by meanes thereof the Empire wan,
Till murdred by the friends of _Gratian_;
Then gan the Hunnes and Picts inuade this land,
During the raigne of _Maximinian_;
Who dying left none heire them to withstand,
But that they ouerran all parts with easie hand.
The weary _Britons_, whose war-hable youth lxii
Was by _Maximian_ lately led away,
With wretched miseries, and woefull ruth,
Were to those Pagans made an open pray,
And dayly spectacle of sad decay:
Whom _Romane_ warres, which now foure hundred yeares,
And more had wasted, could no whit dismay;
Till by consent of Commons and of Peares,
They crownd the second _Constantine_ with ioyous teares,
Who hauing oft in battell vanquished lxiii
Those spoilefull Picts, and swarming Easterlings,
Long time in peace his Realme established,
Yet oft annoyd with sundry bordragings
Of neighbour Scots, and forrein Scatterlings,
With which the world did in those dayes abound:
Which to outbarre, with painefull pyonings
From sea to sea he heapt a mightie mound,
Which from _Alcluid_ to _Panwelt_ did that border bound.
Three sonnes he dying left, all vnder age; lxiv
By meanes whereof, their vncle _Vortigere_
Vsurpt the crowne, during their pupillage;
Which th’Infants tutors gathering to feare,
Them closely into _Armorick_ did beare:
For dread of whom, and for those Picts annoyes,
He sent to _Germanie_, straunge aid to reare,
From whence eftsoones arriued here three hoyes
Of _Saxons_, whom he for his safetie imployes.
Two brethren were their Capitains[800], which hight lxv
_Hengist_ and _Horsus_, well approu’d in warre,
And both of them men of renowmed might;
Who making vantage of their ciuill iarre,
And of those forreiners, which came from farre,
Grew great, and got large portions of land,
That in the Realme ere long they stronger arre,
Then they which sought at first their helping hand,
And _Vortiger_ enforst[801] the kingdome to aband.
But by the helpe of _Vortimere_ his sonne, lxvi
He is againe vnto his rule restord,
And _Hengist_ seeming sad, for that was donne,
Receiued is to grace and new accord,
Through his faire daughters face, and flattring word;
Soone after which, three hundred Lordes he slew
Of British bloud, all sitting at his bord;
Whose dolefull moniments who list to rew,
Th’eternall markes of treason may at _Stonheng_ vew.
By this the sonnes of _Constantine_, which fled, lxvii
_Ambrose_[802] and _Vther_ did ripe years attaine,
And here arriuing, strongly challenged
The crowne, which _Vortiger_ did long detaine:
Who flying from his guilt, by them was slaine,
And _Hengist_ eke soone brought to shamefull death.
Thenceforth _Aurelius_ peaceably did rayne,
Till that through poyson stopped was his breath;
So now entombed lyes at Stoneheng by the heath.
After him _Vther_, which _Pendragon_ hight, lxviii
Succeding There abruptly it did end,
Without full point, or other Cesure right,
As if the rest some wicked hand did rend,
Or th’Authour selfe could not at least attend
To finish it: that so vntimely breach
The Prince him selfe halfe seemeth[803] to offend,
Yet secret pleasure did offence empeach,
And wonder of antiquitie long stopt his speach.
At last quite rauisht with delight, to heare lxix
The royall Ofspring of his natiue land,
Cryde out, Deare countrey, O how dearely deare
Ought thy remembraunce, and perpetuall band
Be to thy foster Childe, that from thy hand
Did commun breath and nouriture receaue?
How brutish is it not to vnderstand,
How much to her we owe, that all vs gaue,
That gaue vnto vs all, what euer good we haue.
But _Guyon_ all this while his booke did read, lxx
Ne yet has ended: for it was a great
And ample volume, that doth far excead
My leasure, so long leaues here to repeat:
It told, how first _Prometheus_ did create
A man, of many partes from beasts deriued,
And then stole fire from heauen, to animate
His worke, for which he was by _Ioue_ depriued
Of life him selfe, and hart-strings of an Ægle riued.
That man so made, he called _Elfe_, to weet lxxi
Quick, the first authour of all Elfin kind:
Who wandring through the world with wearie feet,
Did in the gardins of _Adonis_ find
A goodly creature, whom he deemd in mind
To be no earthly wight, but either Spright,
Or Angell, th’authour of all woman kind;
Therefore a _Fay_ he her according hight,
Of whom all _Faeryes_ spring, and fetch their lignage right.
Of these a mightie people shortly grew, lxxii
And puissaunt kings, which all the world warrayd,
And to them selues all Nations did subdew:
The first and eldest, which that scepter swayd,
Was _Elfin_; him all _India_ obayd,
And all that now _America_ men call:
Next him was noble _Elfinan_, who layd
_Cleopolis_ foundation first of all:
But _Elfiline_ enclosd it with a golden wall.
Comments
Log in to leave a comment.
Spenser's Faerie Queene, Vol. 1 (of 2)Chapter XII: Appendix: Stanzas Omitted in the Second Edition (1596) 517 (10)
0%33 min left in chapter