Chapter IV: Book VII: Two Cantos of Mvtabilitie 454 (4)

Well said the wiseman, now prou’d true by this, i
Which to this gentle Squire did happen late,
That the displeasure of the mighty is
Then death it selfe more dread[134] and desperate.
For naught the same may calme ne mitigate,
Till time the tempest doe thereof delay
With sufferaunce soft, which rigour can abate,
And haue the sterne remembrance wypt away
Of bitter thoughts, which deepe therein infixed lay.

Like as it fell to this vnhappy boy, ii
Whose tender heart the faire _Belphebe_ had[135]
With one sterne looke so daunted, that no ioy
In all his life, which afterwards he lad,
He euer tasted, but with penaunce sad
And pensiue sorrow pind and wore away,
Ne euer laught, ne once shew’d countenance glad;
But alwaies wept and wailed night and day,
As blasted bloosme through heat doth languish and decay;[136]

Till on a day, as in his wonted wise iii
His doole he made, there chaunst a turtle Doue
To come, where he his dolors did deuise,
That likewise late had lost her dearest loue,
Which losse her made like passion also proue.
Who seeing his sad plight, her tender heart
With deare compassion deeply did emmoue,
That she gan mone his vndeserued smart,
And with her dolefull accent beare with him a part.

Shee sitting by him as on ground he lay, iv
Her mournefull notes full piteously did frame,
And thereof made a lamentable lay,
So sensibly compyld, that in the same
Him seemed oft he heard his owne right name.
With that he forth would poure so plenteous teares,
And beat his breast vnworthy of such blame,
And knocke his head, and rend his rugged heares,
That could haue perst[137] the hearts of Tigres and of Beares.

Thus long this gentle bird to him did vse, v
Withouten dread of perill to repaire
Vnto his wonne, and with her mournefull muse
Him to recomfort in his greatest care,
That much did ease his mourning and misfare:
And euery day for guerdon of her song,
He part of his small feast to her would share;
That at the last of all his woe and wrong
Companion she became, and so continued long.

Vpon a day as she him sate beside, vi
By chance he certaine miniments forth drew,
Which yet with him as relickes[138] did abide
Of all the bounty, which _Belphebe_ threw
On him, whilst goodly grace she did him shew:
Amongst the rest a iewell rich he found,
That was a Ruby of right perfect hew,
Shap’d like a heart, yet bleeding of the wound,
And with a litle golden chaine about it bound.

The same he tooke, and with a riband new, vii
In which his Ladies colours were, did bind
About the turtles necke, that with the vew
Did greatly solace his engrieued mind.
All vnawares the bird, when she did find
Her selfe so deckt, her nimble wings displaid,
And flew away, as lightly as the wind:
Which sodaine accident him much dismaid,
And looking after long, did marke which way she straid.

But when as long he looked had in vaine, viii
Yet saw her forward still to make her flight,
His weary eie returnd to him againe,
Full of discomfort and disquiet plight,
That both his iuell he had lost so light,
And eke his deare companion of his care.
But that sweet bird departing, flew forth right
Through the wide region of the wastfull aire,
Vntill she came where wonned his _Belphebe_ faire.

There found she her (as then it did betide) ix
Sitting in couert shade of arbors sweet,
After late weary toile, which she had tride
In saluage chase, to rest as seem’d her meet.
There she alighting, fell before her feet,
And gan to her her mournfull plaint to make,
As was her wont, thinking to let her weet
The great tormenting griefe, that for her sake
Her gentle Squire through her displeasure did pertake[139].

She her beholding with attentiue eye, x
At length did marke about her purple brest
That precious iuell, which she formerly
Had knowne right well with colourd ribbands[140] drest:
Therewith she rose in hast, and her addrest
With ready hand it to haue reft away.
But the swift bird obayd not her behest,
But swaru’d aside, and there againe did stay;
She follow’d her, and thought againe it to assay.

And euer when she nigh approcht, the Doue xi
Would flit a litle forward, and then stay,
Till she drew neare, and then againe remoue;
So tempting her still to pursue the pray,
And still from her escaping soft away:
Till that at length into that forrest wide,
She drew her far, and led with slow delay.
In th’end she her vnto that place did guide,
Whereas that wofull man in languor did abide.

Eftsoones she flew vnto his fearelesse hand, xii
And there a piteous ditty new deuiz’d,
As if she would haue made him[141] vnderstand,
His sorrowes cause to be of her despis’d.
Whom when she saw in wretched weedes disguiz’d,
With heary glib deform’d, and meiger face,
Like ghost late risen from his graue agryz’d,
She knew him not, but pittied much his case,
And wisht it were in her to doe him any grace.

He her beholding, at her feet downe fell, xiii
And kist the ground on which her sole did tread,
And washt the same with water, which did well
From his moist eies, and like two streames procead,
Yet spake no word, whereby she might aread
What mister wight he was, or what he ment,
But as one daunted with her presence dread,
Onely few ruefull lookes vnto her sent,
As messengers of his true meaning and intent.

Yet nathemore his meaning she ared, xiv
But wondred much at his so selcouth case,
And by his persons secret seemlyhed
Well weend, that he had beene some man of place,
Before misfortune did his hew deface:
That being mou’d with ruth she thus bespake.
Ah wofull man, what heauens hard disgrace,
Or wrath of cruell wight on thee ywrake?
Or selfe disliked life doth thee thus wretched make?

If heauen, then none may it redresse or blame, xv
Sith to his powre we all are subiect borne:
If wrathfull wight, then fowle rebuke and shame
Be theirs, that haue so cruell thee forlorne;
But if through inward griefe or wilfull scorne
Of life it be, then better doe aduise[142].
For he whose daies in wilfull woe are worne,
The grace of his Creator doth despise,
That will not vse his gifts for thanklesse nigardise.

When so he heard her say, eftsoones he brake xvi
His sodaine silence, which he long had pent,
And sighing inly deepe, her thus bespake;
Then haue they all themselues against me bent:
For heauen, first author of my languishment,
Enuying my too great felicity,
Did closely with a cruell one consent,
To cloud my daies in dolefull[143] misery,
And make me loath this life, still longing for to die.

Ne any but your selfe, O dearest dred, xvii
Hath done this wrong, to wreake on worthlesse wight
Your high displesure, through misdeeming bred:
That when your pleasure is to deeme aright,
Ye may redresse, and me restore to light.
Which sory words her mightie hart did mate
With mild regard, to see his ruefull plight,
That her inburning wrath she gan abate,
And him receiu’d againe to former fauours state.

In which he long time afterwards did lead xviii
An happie life with grace and good accord,
Fearlesse of fortunes chaunge or enuies dread,
And eke all mindlesse of his owne deare Lord
The noble Prince, who neuer heard one word
Of tydings, what did vnto him betide,
Or what good fortune did to him afford,
But through the endlesse world did wander wide,
Him seeking euermore, yet no where him descride.

Till on a day as through that wood he rode, xix
He chaunst to come where those two Ladies late,
_Æmylia_ and _Amoret_ abode,
Both in full sad and sorrowfull estate;
The one right feeble through the euill rate
Of food, which in her duresse she had found:
The other almost dead and desperate
Through her late hurts, and through that haplesse wound,
With which the Squire in her defence her sore astound.

Whom when the Prince beheld, he gan to rew xx
The euill case in which those Ladies lay;
But most was moued at the piteous vew
Of _Amoret_, so neare vnto decay,
That her great daunger did him much dismay.
Eftsoones that pretious liquour forth he drew,
Which he in store about him kept alway,
And with few drops thereof did softly dew
Her wounds, that vnto strength restor’d her soone anew.

Tho when they both recouered were right well, xxi
He gan of them inquire, what euill guide
Them thether[144] brought, and how their harmes befell.
To whom they told all, that did them betide,
And how from thraldome vile they were vntide
Of that same wicked Carle, by Virgins hond;
Whose bloudie corse they shew’d him there beside,
And eke his caue, in which they both were bond:
At which he wondred much, when all those signes he fond.

And euermore he greatly did desire xxii
To know, what Virgin did them thence vnbind;
And oft of them did earnestly inquire,
Where was her won, and how he mote her find.
But when as nought according to his mind
He could outlearne, he them from ground did reare:
No seruice lothsome to a gentle kind;
And on his warlike beast them both did beare,
Himselfe by them on foot, to succour them from feare.

So when that forrest they had passed well, xxiii
A litle cotage farre away they spide,
To which they drew, ere night vpon them fell;
And entring in, found none therein abide,
But one old woman sitting there beside,
Vpon the ground in ragged rude attyre,
With filthy lockes about her scattered wide,
Gnawing her nayles for felnesse and for yre,
And there out sucking venime to her parts entyre.

A foule and loathly creature sure in sight, xxiv
And in conditions to be loath’d no lesse:
For she was stuft with rancour and despight
Vp to the throat, that oft with bitternesse
It forth would breake, and gush in great excesse,
Pouring out streames of poyson and of gall
Gainst all, that truth or vertue doe professe,
Whom she with leasings lewdly did miscall,
And wickedly backbite: Her name men _Sclaunder_ call.

Her nature is all goodnesse to abuse, xxv
And causelesse crimes continually to frame,
With which she guiltlesse persons may accuse,
And steale away the crowne of their good name;
Ne euer Knight so bold, ne euer Dame
So chast and loyall liu’d, but she would striue
With forged cause them falsely to defame;
Ne euer thing so well was doen aliue,
But she with blame would blot, and of due praise depriue.

Her words were not, as common words are ment, xxvi
T’expresse the meaning of the inward mind,
But noysome breath, and poysnous spirit sent
From inward parts, with cancred malice lind,
And breathed forth with blast of bitter wind;
Which passing through the eares, would pierce the hart,
And wound the soule it selfe with griefe vnkind:
For like the stings of Aspes, that kill with smart,
Her spightfull words did pricke, and wound the inner part.

Such was that Hag, vnmeet to host such guests, xxvii
Whom greatest Princes court would welcome fayne,
But neede, that answers not to all requests,
Bad them not looke for better entertayne;
And eke that age despysed nicenesse vaine,
Enur’d to hardnesse and to homely fare,
Which them to warlike discipline did trayne,
And manly limbs endur’d with litle care
Against all hard mishaps and fortunelesse misfare.

Then all that euening welcommed with cold, xxviii
And chearelesse hunger, they together spent;
Yet found no fault, but that the Hag did scold
And rayle at them with grudgefull discontent,
For lodging there without her owne consent:
Yet they endured all with patience milde,
And vnto rest themselues all onely lent,
Regardlesse of that queane so base and vilde,
To be vniustly blamd, and bitterly reuilde.

Here well I weene, when as these rimes be red xxix
With misregard, that some rash witted wight,
Whose looser thought will lightly be misled,
These gentle Ladies will misdeeme too light,
For thus conuersing with this noble Knight;
Sith now of dayes such temperance is rare
And hard to finde, that heat of youthfull spright
For ought will from his greedie pleasure spare,
More hard for hungry steed t’abstaine from pleasant lare.

But antique age yet in the infancie xxx
Of time, did liue then like an innocent,
In simple truth and blamelesse chastitie,
Ne then[145] of guile had made experiment,
But voide of vile and treacherous intent,
Held vertue for it selfe in soueraine awe:
Then loyall loue had royall regiment,
And each vnto his lust did make a lawe,
From all forbidden things his liking to withdraw.

The Lyon there did with the Lambe consort, xxxi
And eke the Doue sate by the Faulcons side,
Ne each of other feared fraud or tort,
But did in safe securitie abide,
Withouten perill of the stronger pride:
But when the world woxe old, it woxe warre old
(Whereof it hight) and hauing shortly tride
The traines of wit, in wickednesse woxe bold,
And dared of all sinnes the secrets to vnfold.

Then beautie, which was made to represent xxxii
The great Creatours owne resemblance bright,
Vnto abuse of lawlesse lust was lent,
And made the baite of bestiall delight:
Then faire grew foule, and foule grew faire in sight,
And that which wont to vanquish God and man,
Was made the vassall of the victors might;
Then did her glorious flowre wex dead and wan,
Despisd and troden downe of all that ouerran.

And now it is so vtterly decayd, xxxiii
That any bud thereof doth scarse remaine,
But if few plants preseru’d through heauenly ayd,
In Princes Court doe hap to sprout againe,
Dew’d with her drops of bountie Soueraine,
Which from that goodly glorious flowre proceed,
Sprung of the auncient stocke of Princes straine,
Now th’onely remnant of that royall breed,
Whose noble kind at first was sure of heauenly seed.

Tho soone as day discouered heauens face xxxiv
To sinfull men with darknes ouerdight,
This gentle crew gan from their eye-lids chace
The drowzie humour of the dampish night,
And did themselues vnto their iourney dight.
So forth they yode, and forward softly paced,
That them to view had bene an vncouth sight;
How all the way the Prince on footpace traced,
The Ladies both on horse, together fast embraced.

Soone as they thence departed were afore, xxxv
That shamefull Hag, the slaunder of her sexe,
Them follow’d fast, and them reuiled sore,
Him calling theefe, them whores; that much did vexe
His noble hart; thereto she did annexe
False crimes and facts, such as they neuer ment,
That those two Ladies much asham’d did wexe:
The more did she pursue her lewd intent,
And rayl’d and rag’d, till she had all her poyson spent.

At last when they were passed out of sight, xxxvi
Yet she did not her spightfull speach forbeare,
But after them did barke, and still backbite,
Though there were none her hatefull words to heare:
Like as a curre doth felly bite and teare
The stone, which passed straunger at him threw;
So she them seeing past the reach of eare,
Against the stones and trees did rayle anew,
Till she had duld the sting, which in her tongs end grew.

They passing forth kept on their readie way, xxxvii
With easie steps so soft as foot could stryde,
Both for great feeblesse, which did oft assay
Faire _Amoret_, that scarcely she could ryde,
And eke through heauie armes, which sore annoyd
The Prince on foot, not wonted so to fare;
Whose steadie hand was faine his steede to guyde,
And all the way from trotting hard to spare,
So was his toyle the more, the more that was his care.

At length they spide, where towards them with speed xxxviii
A Squire came gallopping, as he would flie;[146]
Bearing a litle Dwarfe before his steed,
That all the way full loud for aide did crie,
That seem’d his shrikes would rend the brasen skie:
Whom after did a mightie man pursew,
Ryding vpon a Dromedare on hie,
Of stature huge, and horrible of hew,
That would haue maz’d a man his dreadfull face to vew.

For from his fearefull eyes two fierie beames, xxxix
More sharpe then points of needles did proceede,
Shooting forth farre away two flaming streames,
Full of sad powre, that poysonous bale did breede
To all, that on him lookt without good heed,
And secretly his enemies did slay:
Like as the Basiliske of serpents seede,
From powrefull eyes close venim doth conuay
Into the lookers hart, and killeth farre away.

He all the way did rage at that same Squire, xl
And after him full many threatnings threw,
With curses vaine in his auengefull ire:
But none of them (so fast away he flew)
Him ouertooke, before he came in vew.
Where when he saw the Prince in armour bright,
He cald to him aloud, his case to rew,
And rescue him through succour of his might,
From that his cruell foe, that him pursewd in sight.

Eftsoones the Prince tooke downe those Ladies twaine xli
From loftie steede, and mounting in their stead
Came to that Squire, yet trembling euery vaine:
Of whom he gan enquire his cause of dread;
Who as he gan the same to him aread,
Loe hard behind his backe his foe was prest,
With dreadfull weapon aymed at his head,
That vnto death had doen him vnredrest,
Had not the noble Prince his readie stroke represt.

Who thrusting boldly twixt him and the blow, xlii
The burden of the deadly brunt did beare
Vpon his shield, which lightly he did throw
Ouer his head, before the harme came neare.
Nathlesse it fell with so despiteous dreare
And heauie sway, that hard vnto his crowne
The shield it droue, and did the couering reare,
Therewith both Squire and dwarfe did tomble downe
Vnto the earth, and lay long while in senselesse swowne.

Whereat the Prince full wrath, his strong right hand xliii
In full auengement heaued vp on hie,
And stroke the Pagan with his steely brand
So sore, that to his saddle bow thereby
He bowed low, and so a while did lie:
And sure had not his massie yron mace
Betwixt him and his hurt bene happily,
It would haue cleft him to the girding place,
Yet as it was, it did astonish him long space.

But when he to himselfe returnd againe, xliv
All full of rage he gan to curse and sweare,
And vow by _Mahoune_ that he should be slaine.
With that his murdrous mace he vp did reare,
That seemed nought the souse thereof could beare,
And therewith smote at him with all his might.
But ere that it to him approched neare,
The royall child with readie quicke foresight,
Did shun the proofe thereof and it auoyded light.

But ere his hand he could recure againe, xlv
To ward his bodie from the balefull stound,
He smote at him with all his might and maine,
So furiously, that ere he wist, he found
His head before him tombling on the ground.
The whiles his babling tongue did yet blaspheme
And curse his God, that did him so confound;
The whiles his life ran foorth[147] in bloudie streame,
His soule descended downe into the Stygian reame.

Which when that Squire beheld, he woxe full glad xlvi
To see his foe breath[148] out his spright in vaine:
But that same dwarfe right sorie seem’d and sad,
And howld aloud to see his Lord there slaine,
And rent his haire and scratcht his face for paine.
Then gan the Prince at leasure to inquire
Of all the accident, there hapned plaine,
And what he was, whose eyes did flame with fire;
All which was thus to him declared by that Squire.

This mightie man (quoth he) whom you haue slaine, xlvii
Of an huge Geauntesse whylome was bred;
And by his strength rule to himselfe did gaine
Of many Nations into thraldome led,
And mightie kingdomes of his force adred;
Whom yet he conquer’d not by bloudie fight,
Ne hostes of men with banners brode dispred,
But by the powre of his infectious sight,
With which he killed all, that came within his might.

Ne was he euer vanquished afore, xlviii
But euer vanquisht all, with whom he fought;
Ne was there man so strong, but he downe bore,
Ne woman yet so faire, but he her brought
Vnto his bay, and captiued her thought.
For most of strength and beautie his desire
Was spoyle to make, and wast them vnto nought,
By casting secret flakes of lustfull fire
From his false eyes, into their harts and parts entire.

Therefore _Corflambo_ was he cald aright, xlix
Though namelesse there his bodie now doth lie,
Yet hath he left one daughter that is hight
The faire _Pœana_; who seemes outwardly
So faire, as euer yet saw liuing eie:
And were her vertue like her beautie bright,
She were as faire as any vnder skie.
But ah she giuen is to vaine delight,
And eke too loose of life, and eke of loue too light.

So as it fell there was a gentle Squire, l
That lou’d a Ladie of high parentage,
But for his meane degree might not aspire
To match so high, her friends with counsell sage,
Dissuaded her from such a disparage.
But she, whose hart to loue was wholly lent,
Out of his hands could not redeeme her gage,
But firmely following her first intent,
Resolu’d with him to wend, gainst all her friends consent.

So twixt themselues they pointed time and place, li
To which when he according did repaire,
An hard mishap and disauentrous case
Him chaunst; in stead of his _Æmylia_ faire
This Gyants sonne, that lies there on the laire
An headlesse heape, him vnawares there caught,
And all dismayd through mercilesse despaire,
Him wretched thrall vnto his dongeon brought,
Where he remaines, of all vnsuccour’d and vnsought.

This Gyants daughter came vpon a day lii
Vnto the prison in her ioyous glee,
To view the thrals, which there in bondage lay:
Amongst the rest she chaunced there to see
This louely swaine the Squire of low degree;
To whom she did her liking lightly cast,
And wooed him her paramour to bee:
From day to day she woo’d and prayd him fast,
And for his loue him promist libertie at last.

He though affide vnto a former loue, liii
To whom his faith he firmely ment to hold,
Yet seeing not how thence he mote remoue,
But by that meanes, which fortune did vnfold,
Her graunted loue, but with affection cold
To win her grace his libertie to get.
Yet she him still detaines in captiue hold,
Fearing least if she should him freely set,
He would her shortly leaue, and former loue forget.

Yet so much fauour she to him hath hight, liv
Aboue the rest, that he sometimes may space
And walke about her gardens of delight,
Hauing a keeper still with him in place,
Which keeper is this Dwarfe, her dearling base,
To whom the keyes of euery prison dore
By her committed be, of speciall grace,
And at his will may whom he list restore,
And whom he list reserue, to be afflicted more.

Whereof when tydings came vnto mine eare, lv
Full inly sorie for the feruent zeale,
Which I to him as to my soule did beare;
I thether went where I did long conceale
My selfe, till that the Dwarfe did me reueale,
And told his Dame, her Squire of low degree
Did secretly out of her prison steale;
For me he did mistake that Squire to bee;
For neuer two so like did liuing creature see.

Then was I taken and before her brought, lvi
Who through the likenesse of my outward hew,
Being likewise beguiled in her thought,
Gan blame me much for being so vntrew,
To seeke by flight her fellowship t’eschew,
That lou’d me deare, as dearest thing aliue.
Thence she commaunded me to prison new;
Whereof I glad did not gainesay nor striue,
But suffred that same Dwarfe me to her dongeon driue.

There did I finde mine onely faithfull frend lvii
In heauy plight and sad perplexitie;
Whereof I sorie, yet my selfe did bend,
Him to recomfort with my companie.
But him the more agreeu’d I found thereby:
For all his ioy, he said, in that distresse
Was mine and his _Æmylias_ libertie.
_Æmylia_ well he lou’d, as I mote ghesse;
Yet greater loue to me then her he did professe.

But I with better reason him auiz’d, lviii
And shew’d him how through error and mis-thought
Of our like persons eath to be disguiz’d,
Or his exchange, or freedome might be wrought.
Whereto full loth was he, ne would for ought
Consent, that I who stood all fearelesse free,
Should wilfully be into thraldome brought,
Till fortune did perforce it so decree.
Yet ouerrul’d at last, he did to me agree.

The morrow next about the wonted howre, lix
The Dwarfe cald at the doore of _Amyas_,
To come forthwith vnto his Ladies bowre.
In steed of whom forth came I _Placidas_,
And vndiscerned, forth with him did pas.
There with great ioyance and with gladsome glee,
Of faire _Pœana_ I receiued was,
And oft imbrast, as if that I were hee,
And with kind words accoyd, vowing great loue to mee.

Which I, that was not bent to former loue, lx
As was my friend, that had her long refusd,
Did well accept, as well it did behoue,
And to the present neede it wisely vsd.
My former hardnesse first I faire excusd;
And after promist large amends to make.
With such smooth termes her error I abusd,
To my friends good, more then for mine owne sake,
For whose sole libertie I loue and life did stake.

Thenceforth I found more fauour at her hand, lxi
That to her Dwarfe, which had me in his charge,
She bad to lighten my too heauie band,
And graunt more scope to me to walke at large.
So on a day as by the flowrie marge
Of a fresh streame I with that Elfe did play,
Finding no meanes how I might vs enlarge,
But if that Dwarfe I could with me conuay,
I lightly snatcht him vp, and with me bore away.

Thereat he shriekt aloud, that with his cry lxii
The Tyrant selfe came forth with yelling bray,
And me pursew’d; but nathemore would I
Forgoe the purchase of my gotten pray,
But haue perforce him hether[149] brought away.
Thus as they talked, loe where nigh at hand
Those Ladies two yet doubtfull through dismay
In presence came, desirous t’vnderstand
Tydings of all, which there had hapned on the land.

Where soone as sad _Æmylia_ did espie lxiii
Her captiue louers friend, young _Placidas_;
All mindlesse of her wonted modestie,
She to him ran, and him with streight embras
Enfolding said, And[150] liues yet _Amyas_?
He liues (quoth he) and his _Æmylia_ loues.
Then lesse (said she) by all the woe I pas,
With which my weaker patience fortune proues.
But what mishap thus long him fro my selfe remoues?

Then gan he all this storie to renew, lxiv
And tell the course of his captiuitie;
That her deare hart full deepely made to rew,
And sigh full sore, to heare the miserie,
In which so long he mercilesse did lie.
Then after many teares and sorrowes spent,
She deare besought the Prince of remedie:
Who thereto did with readie will consent,
And well perform’d, as shall appeare by his euent.

FOOTNOTES:

[133] Arg. 2 _Slaunder_ _1609_

[134] i 4 drad _1609_

[135] ii 2 had, _1596_

[136] 9 decay _1596_

[137] iv 9 pearc’t _1609_

[138] vi 3 reliques _1609_

[139] ix 9 partake _1609_

[140] x 4 ribband _1609_

[141] xii 3 him] her _conj. Church_

[142] xv 6 avise _1609_

[143] xvi 8 doolefull _1609_

[144] xxi 3 thither _1609_

[145] xxx 4 then] them _1596_

[146] xxxviii 2 flie _1596_

[147] xlv 8 forth _1609_

[148] xlvi 2 breathe _1609_

[149] lxii 5 hither _1609_

_Cant. IX._

_The Squire of low degree releast
Pœana[151] takes to wife:
Britomart fightes with many Knights,[152]
Prince Arthur stints their strife._
]

Hard is the doubt, and difficult to deeme, i
When all three kinds of loue together meet,
And doe dispart the hart with powre extreme,
Whether shall weigh the balance downe; to weet
The deare affection vnto kindred sweet,
Or raging fire of loue to woman kind,
Or zeale of friends combynd with vertues meet.
But of them all the band of vertuous[153] mind
Me seemes the gentle hart[154] should most assured bind.

For naturall affection soone doth cesse, ii
And quenched is with _Cupids_ greater flame:
But faithfull friendship doth them both suppresse,
And them with maystring discipline doth tame,
Through thoughts aspyring to eternall fame.
For as the soule doth rule the earthly masse,
And all the seruice of the bodie frame,
So loue of soule doth loue of bodie passe,
No lesse then perfect gold surmounts the meanest brasse.

All which who list by tryall to assay, iii
Shall in this storie find approued plaine;
In which these[155] Squires true friendship more did sway,
Then either care of parents could refraine,
Or loue of fairest Ladie could constraine.
For though _Pœana_ were as faire as morne,
Yet did this trustie Squire[156] with proud disdaine
For his friends sake her offred fauours scorne,
And she her selfe her syre, of whom she was yborne.

Now after that Prince _Arthur_ graunted had, iv
To yeeld strong succour to that gentle swayne,
Who now long time had lyen in prison sad,
He gan aduise how best he mote darrayne
That enterprize, for greatest glories gayne.
That headlesse tyrants tronke he reard from ground,
And hauing ympt the head to it agayne,
Vpon his vsuall beast it firmely bound,
And made it so to ride, as it aliue was found.

Then did he take that chaced Squire, and layd v
Before the ryder, as he captiue were,
And made his Dwarfe, though with vnwilling ayd,
To guide the beast, that did his maister beare,
Till to his castle they approched neare.
Whom when the watch, that kept continuall ward
Saw comming home; all voide of doubtfull feare,
He running downe, the gate to him vnbard;
Whom straight the Prince ensuing, in together far’d.

There he did find in her delitious boure vi
The faire _Pœana_ playing on a Rote,
Complayning of her cruell Paramoure,
And singing all her sorrow to the note,
As she had learned readily by rote.
That with the sweetnesse of her rare delight,
The Prince halfe rapt, began on her to dote:
Till better him bethinking of the right,
He her vnwares attacht, and captiue held by might.

Whence being forth produc’d, when she perceiued vii
Her owne deare sire, she cald to him for aide.
But when of him no aunswere she receiued,
But saw him sencelesse by the Squire vpstaide,
She weened well, that then she was betraide:
Then gan she loudly cry, and weepe, and waile,
And that same Squire of treason to vpbraide.
But all in vaine, her plaints might not preuaile,
Ne none there was to reskue her, ne none to baile.

Then tooke he that same Dwarfe, and him compeld viii
To open vnto him the prison dore,
And forth to bring those thrals, which there he held.
Thence forth were brought to him aboue a score
Of Knights and Squires to him vnknowne afore:
All which he did from bitter bondage free,
And vnto former liberty restore.
Amongst the rest, that Squire of low degree
Came forth full weake and wan, not like him selfe to bee.

Whom soone as faire _Æmylia_ beheld, ix
And _Placidas_, they both vnto him ran,
And him embracing fast betwixt them held,
Striuing to comfort him all that they can,
And kissing oft his visage pale and wan.
That faire _Pœana_ them beholding both,
Gan both enuy, and bitterly to ban;
Through iealous passion weeping inly wroth,
To see the sight perforce, that both her eyes were loth.

But when a while they had together beene, x
And diuersly conferred of their case,
She, though full oft she both of them had seene
A sunder, yet not euer in one place,
Began to doubt, when she them saw embrace,
Which was the captiue Squire she lou’d so deare,
Deceiued through great likenesse of their face,
For they so like in person did appeare,
That she vneath discerned, whether whether weare.

And eke the Prince, when as he them auized, xi
Their like resemblaunce much admired there,
And mazd how nature had so well disguized
Her worke, and counterfet her selfe so nere,
As if that by one patterne seene somewhere,
She had them made a paragone to be,
Or whether it through skill, or errour were.
Thus gazing long, at them much wondred he,
So did the other knights and Squires, which him[157] did see.

Then gan they ransacke that same Castle strong, xii
In which he found great store of hoorded threasure,
The which that tyrant gathered had by wrong
And tortious powre, without respect or measure.
Vpon all which the Briton Prince made seasure,
And afterwards continu’d there a while,
To rest him selfe, and solace in soft pleasure
Those weaker Ladies after weary toile;
To whom he did diuide part of his purchast spoile.

And for more ioy, that captiue Lady faire xiii
The faire _Pœana_[158] he enlarged free;
And by the rest did set in sumptuous chaire,
To feast and frollicke; nathemore would she
Shew gladsome countenaunce nor pleasaunt glee:
But grieued was for losse both of her sire,
And eke of Lordship, with both land and fee:
But most she touched was with griefe entire,
For losse of her new loue, the hope of her desire.

But her the Prince through his well wonted grace, xiv
To better termes of myldnesse did entreat,
From that fowle rudenesse, which did her deface;
And that same bitter corsiue, which did eat
Her tender heart, and made refraine from meat,
He with good thewes and speaches well applyde,
Did mollifie, and calme her raging heat.
For though she were most faire, and goodly dyde,
Yet she it all did mar with cruelty and pride.

And for to shut vp all in friendly loue, xv
Sith loue was first the ground of all her griefe,
That trusty Squire he wisely well did moue
Not to despise that dame, which lou’d him liefe,
Till he had made of her some better priefe,
But to accept her to his wedded wife.
Thereto he offred for to make him chiefe
Of all her land and lordship during life:
He yeelded, and her tooke; so stinted all their strife.

From that day forth in peace and ioyous blis, xvi
They liu’d together long without debate,
Ne priuate iarre, ne spite of enemis
Could shake the safe assuraunce of their state.
And she whom Nature did so faire create,
That she mote match the fairest of her daies,
Yet with lewd loues and lust intemperate
Had it defaste; thenceforth reformd her waies,
That all men much admyrde her change, and spake her praise.

Thus when the Prince had perfectly compylde xvii
These paires of friends in peace and setled rest,
Him selfe, whose minde did trauell as with chylde,
Of his old loue, conceau’d in secret brest,
Resolued to pursue his former quest[159];
And taking leaue of all, with him did beare
Faire _Amoret_, whom Fortune by bequest
Had left in his protection whileare,
Exchanged out of one into an other feare.

Feare of her safety did her not constraine, xviii
For well she wist now in a mighty hond,
Her person late in perill, did remaine,
Who able was all daungers to withstond.
But now in feare of shame she more did stond,
Seeing her selfe all soly succourlesse,
Left in the victors powre, like vassall bond;
Whose will her weakenesse could no way represse,[160]
In case his burning lust should breake into excesse.

But cause of feare sure had she none at all xix
Of him, who goodly learned had of yore
The course of loose affection to forstall,
And lawlesse lust to rule with reasons lore;
That all the while he by his side her bore,
She was as safe as in a Sanctuary;
Thus many miles they two together wore,
To seeke their loues dispersed diuersly,
Yet neither shewed to other their hearts priuity.

At length they came, whereas a troupe of Knights xx
They saw together skirmishing, as seemed:
Sixe they were all, all full of fell despight,
But foure of them the battell best beseemed,
That which of them was best, mote not be deemed.
Those foure were they, from whom false _Florimell_
By _Braggadochio_ lately was redeemed.
To weet, sterne _Druon_, and lewd _Claribell_,
Loue-lauish _Blandamour_, and lustfull _Paridell_.

_Druons_ delight was all in single life, xxi
And vnto Ladies loue would lend no leasure:
The more was _Claribell_ enraged rife
With feruent flames, and loued out of measure:
So eke lou’d _Blandamour_, but yet at pleasure
Would change his liking, and new Lemans proue.
But _Paridell_ of loue did make no threasure,
But lusted after all, that him did moue.
So diuersly these foure disposed were to loue.

But those two other which beside them stoode, xxii
Were _Britomart_, and gentle _Scudamour_,
Who all the while beheld their wrathfull moode,
And wondred at their impacable stoure,
Whose like they neuer saw till that same houre:
So dreadfull strokes each did at other driue,
And laid on load with all their might and powre,
As if that euery dint the ghost would riue
Out of their wretched corses, and their liues depriue.

As when _Dan Æolus_ in great displeasure, xxiii
For losse of his deare loue by _Neptune_ hent,
Sends forth the winds out of his hidden threasure,
Vpon the sea to wreake his fell intent;
They breaking forth with rude vnruliment,
From all foure parts of heauen doe rage full sore,
And tosse the deepes, and teare the firmament,
And all the world confound with wide vprore,
As if in stead thereof they _Chaos_ would restore.

Cause of their discord, and so fell debate, xxiv
Was for the loue of that same snowy maid,
Whome they had lost in Turneyment of late,
And seeking long, to weet which way she straid,[161]
Met here together, where through lewd vpbraide
Of _Ate_ and _Duessa_ they fell out,
And each one taking part in others aide,
This cruell conflict raised thereabout,
Whose dangerous successe depended yet in dout.

For sometimes _Paridell_ and _Blandamour_ xxv
The better had, and bet the others backe,
Eftsoones the others did the field recoure,
And on their foes did worke full cruell wracke:
Yet neither would their fiendlike fury slacke,
But euermore their malice did augment;
Till that vneath they forced were for lacke
Of breath, their raging rigour to relent,
And rest themselues for to recouer spirits spent.

There[162] gan they change their sides, and new parts take; xxvi
For _Paridell_ did take to _Druons_ side,
For old despight, which now forth newly brake
Gainst _Blandamour_, whom alwaies he enuide:
And _Blandamour_ to _Claribell_ relide.
So all afresh gan former fight renew.
As when two Barkes, this caried with the tide,
That with the wind, contrary courses sew,
If wind and tide doe change, their courses change anew.

Thenceforth they much more furiously gan fare, xxvii
As if but then the battell had begonne,
Ne helmets bright, ne hawberks strong did spare,
That through the clifts the vermeil bloud out sponne,
And all adowne their riuen sides did ronne.
Such mortall malice, wonder was to see
In friends profest, and so great outrage donne:
But sooth is said, and tride in each degree,
Faint friends when they fall out, most cruell fomen bee.

Thus they long while continued in fight, xxviii
Till _Scudamour_, and that same Briton maide,
By fortune in that place did chance to light:
Whom soone as they with wrathfull eie bewraide,
They gan remember of the fowle vpbraide,
The which that Britonesse had to them donne,
In that late Turney for the snowy maide;
Where she had them both shamefully fordonne,
And eke the famous prize of beauty from them wonne.

Eftsoones all burning with a fresh desire xxix
Of fell reuenge, in their malicious mood
They from them selues gan turne their furious ire,
And cruell blades yet steeming with whot bloud,
Against those two let driue, as they were wood:
Who wondring much at that so sodaine fit,
Yet nought dismayd, them stoutly well withstood;
Ne yeelded foote, ne once abacke did flit,
But being doubly smitten likewise doubly smit.

The warlike Dame was on her part assaid, xxx
Of _Claribell_ and _Blandamour_ attone;
And _Paridell_ and _Druon_ fiercely laid
At _Scudamour_, both his professed fone.
Foure charged two, and two surcharged one;
Yet did those two them selues so brauely beare,
That the other[163] litle gained by the lone,
But with their owne repayed[164] duely weare,
And vsury withall: such gaine was gotten deare.

Full oftentimes did _Britomart_ assay xxxi
To speake to them, and some emparlance moue;
But they for nought their cruell hands would stay,
Ne lend an eare to ought, that might behoue,
As when an eager mastiffe once doth proue
The tast of bloud of some engored beast,
No words may rate, nor rigour him remoue
From greedy hold of that his blouddy feast:
So litle did they hearken to her sweet beheast.

Whom when the Briton Prince a farre beheld xxxii
With ods of so vnequall match opprest,
His mighty heart with indignation sweld,
And inward grudge fild his heroicke brest:
Eftsoones him selfe he to their aide addrest,
And thrusting fierce into the thickest preace,
Diuided them, how euer loth to rest,
And would them faine from battell to surceasse,
With gentle words perswading them to friendly peace.

But they so farre from peace or patience were, xxxiii
That all at once at him gan fiercely flie,
And lay on load, as they him downe would beare;
Like to a storme, which houers vnder skie
Long here and there, and round about doth stie,
At length breakes downe in raine, and haile, and sleet,
First from one coast, till nought thereof be drie;
And then another, till that likewise fleet;
And so from side to side till all the world it weet.

But now their forces greatly were decayd, xxxiv
The Prince yet being fresh vntoucht afore;
Who them with speaches milde gan first disswade
From such foule outrage, and them long forbore:
Till seeing them through suffrance hartned more,
Him selfe he bent their furies to abate,
And layd at them so sharpely and so sore,
That shortly them compelled to retrate,
And being brought in daunger, to relent too late.

But now his courage being throughly fired, xxxv
He ment to make them know their follies prise,
Had not those two him instantly desired
T’asswage his wrath, and pardon their mesprise.
At whose request he gan him selfe aduise
To stay his hand, and of a truce to treat
In milder tearmes, as list them to deuise:
Mongst which the cause of their so cruell heat
He did them aske, who all that passed gan repeat.

And told at large how that same errant Knight, xxxvi
To weet faire _Britomart_, them late had foyled
In open turney, and by wrongfull fight
Both of their publicke[165] praise had them despoyled,
And also of their priuate loues beguyled,
Of two full hard to read the harder theft.
But she that wrongfull challenge soone assoyled,
And shew’d that she had not that Lady reft,
(As they supposd) but her had to her liking left.

To whom the Prince thus goodly well replied; xxxvii
Certes sir Knight[166], ye seemen much to blame,
To rip vp wrong, that battell once hath tried;
Wherein the honor both of Armes ye shame,
And eke the loue of Ladies foule defame;
To whom the world this franchise euer yeelded,
That of their loues choise they might freedom clame,
And in that right should by all knights be shielded:
Gainst which me seemes this war ye wrongfully haue wielded.

And yet (quoth she) a greater wrong remaines: xxxviii
For I thereby my former loue haue lost,
Whom seeking euer since with endlesse paines,
Hath me much sorrow and much trauell cost;
Aye me to see that gentle maide so tost.
But _Scudamour_ then sighing deepe, thus saide,
Certes her losse ought me to sorrow most,
Whose right she is, where euer she be straide,
Through many perils wonne, and many fortunes waide.

For from the first that I her loue profest, xxxix
Vnto this houre, this present lucklesse howre,
I neuer ioyed happinesse nor rest,
But thus turmoild from one to other stowre,
I wast my life, and doe my daies deuowre
In wretched anguishe and incessant woe,
Passing the measure of my feeble powre,
That living thus, a wretch and[167] louing so,
I neither can my loue, ne yet my life forgo.

Then good sir _Claribell_ him thus bespake, xl
Now were it not sir _Scudamour_ to you[168]
Dislikefull paine, so sad a taske to take,
Mote we entreat you, sith this gentle crew
Is now so well accorded all anew;
That as we ride together on our way,
Ye will recount to vs in order dew
All that aduenture, which ye did assay
For that faire Ladies loue: past perils well apay.

So gan the rest him likewise to require, xli
But _Britomart_ did him importune hard,
To take on him that paine: whose great desire
He glad to satisfie, him selfe prepar’d
To tell through what misfortune he had far’d,
In that atchieuement, as to him befell.
And all those daungers vnto them declar’d,
Which sith they cannot in this Canto well
Comprised be, I will them in another tell.

FOOTNOTES:

[150] lxiii 5 and _1596_

[151] Arg. 2 _Pœana_] _Æmylia conj. Church rightly_

[152] 3 _Knights_ _1596_

[153] i 8 vertuous] vertues _1596_

[154] 9 hart, _1596_, _1609_

[155] iii 3 these] this _1609_

[156] 7 Trustie squire _1596_

[157] xi 9 him] them _conj. Church_

[158] xiii 2 _Pæana_ _1596 &c._

[159] xvii 5 guest _1596_, _1609_

[160] xviii 8 represse. _1596_

[161] xxiv 4 straid _1596_, _1609_

[162] xxvi 1 There] Their _1596_: Then _conj. Church_

[163] xxx 7 th’other _1609_

[164] 8 repayred _1596_

[165] xxxvi 4 publique _1609_

[166] xxxvii 2 Knights _conj. Upton_

[167] xxxix 8 wretch I and _1596_

[168] xl 2 you, _1596_

_Cant. X._

_Scudamour doth his conquest[169] tell,
Of vertuous Amoret:
Great Venus Temple is describ’d,
And louers life forth set._
]

True he it said, what euer man it sayd, i
That loue with gall and hony doth abound,
But if the one be with the other wayd,
For euery dram of hony therein found,
A pound of gall doth ouer it redound.
That I too true by triall haue approued:
For since the day that first with deadly wound
My heart was launcht, and learned to haue loued,
I neuer ioyed howre, but still with care was moued.

And yet such grace is giuen them from aboue, ii
That all the cares and euill which they meet,
May nought at all their setled mindes remoue,
But seeme gainst common sence to them most sweet;
As bosting in their martyrdome vnmeet.
So all that euer yet I haue endured,
I count as naught, and tread downe vnder feet,
Since[170] of my loue at length I rest assured,
That to disloyalty she will not be allured.

Long were to tell the trauell and long toile, iii
Through which this shield of loue I late haue wonne,
And purchased this peerelesse beauties spoile,
That harder may be ended, then begonne.
But since ye so desire, your will be donne.
Then hearke ye gentle knights and Ladies free,
My hard mishaps, that ye may learne to shonne;
For though sweet loue to conquer glorious bee,
Yet is the paine thereof much greater then the fee.

What time the fame of this renowmed prise iv
Flew first abroad, and all mens eares possest,
I hauing armes then taken, gan auise
To winne me honour by some noble gest,
And purchase me some place amongst the best.
I boldly thought (so young mens thoughts are bold)
That this same braue emprize for me did rest,
And that both shield and she whom I behold,
Might be my lucky lot; sith all by lot we hold.

So on that hard aduenture forth I went, v
And to the place of perill shortly came.
That was a temple faire and auncient,
Which of great mother _Venus_ bare the name,
And farre renowmed through exceeding fame;
Much more then that, which was in _Paphos_ built,
Or that in _Cyprus_, both long since this same,
Though all the pillours of the one were guilt,
And all the others pauement were with yuory spilt.

And it was seated in an Island strong, vi
Abounding all with delices most rare,
And wall’d by nature gainst inuaders wrong,
That none mote haue accesse, nor inward fare,
But by one way, that passage did prepare.
It was a bridge ybuilt in goodly wize,
With curious Corbes and pendants grauen faire,
And arched all with porches, did arize
On stately pillours, fram’d after the Doricke guize.

And for defence thereof, on th’other end vii
There reared was a castle faire and strong,
That warded all which in or out did wend,
And flancked both the bridges sides along,
Gainst all that would it faine to force or wrong.
And therein wonned twenty valiant Knights;
All twenty tride in warres experience long;
Whose office was, against all manner[171] wights
By all meanes to maintaine[172] that castels[173] ancient rights.

Before that Castle was an open plaine, viii
And in the midst thereof a piller placed;
On which this shield, of many sought in vaine,
The shield of Loue, whose guerdon me hath graced,
Was hangd on high with golden ribbands laced;
And in the marble stone was written this,
With golden letters goodly well enchaced,
_Blessed the man that well can vse his blis:
Whose euer be the shield, faire Amoret be his._

Which when I red, my heart did inly earne[174], ix
And pant with hope of that aduentures hap:
Ne stayed further newes thereof to learne,
But with my speare vpon the shield did rap,
That all the castle ringed with the clap.
Streight forth issewd a Knight all arm’d to proofe,
And brauely mounted to his most mishap:
Who staying nought to question from aloofe,
Ran fierce at me, that fire glaunst from his horses hoofe.

Whom boldly I encountred (as I could) x
And by good fortune shortly him vnseated.
Eftsoones out sprung two more of equall mould;
But I them both with equall hap defeated:
So all the twenty I likewise entreated,
And left them groning there vpon the plaine.
Then preacing to the pillour I repeated
The read thereof for guerdon of my paine,
And taking downe the shield, with me did it retaine.

So forth without impediment I past, xi
Till to the Bridges vtter gate I came:
The which I found sure lockt and chained fast.
I knockt, but no man aunswred me by name;
I cald, but no man answerd to my clame.
Yet I perseuer’d still to knocke and call,
Till at the last I spide within the same,
Where one stood peeping through a creuis small,
To whom I cald aloud, halfe angry therewithall.

That was to weet the Porter of the place, xii
Vnto whose trust the charge thereof was lent:
His name was _Doubt_, that had a double face,
Th’one forward looking, th’other backeward bent,
Therein resembling _Ianus_ auncient,
Which hath in charge the ingate of the yeare:
And euermore his eyes about him went,
As if some proued perill he did feare,
Or did misdoubt some ill, whose cause did not appeare.

On th’one side he, on th’other sate _Delay_, xiii
Behinde the gate, that none her might espy;
Whose manner was all passengers to stay,
And entertaine with her occasions sly,
Through which some lost great hope vnheedily,
Which neuer they recouer might againe;
And others quite excluded forth, did ly
Long languishing there in vnpittied paine,
And seeking often entraunce, afterwards in vaine.

Me when as he had priuily espide, xiv
Bearing the shield which I had conquerd late,
He kend it streight, and to me opened wide.
So in I past, and streight he closd the gate.
But being in, _Delay_ in close awaite
Caught hold on me, and thought my steps to stay,
Feigning full many a fond excuse to prate,
And time to steale, the threasure of mans day,
Whose smallest minute lost, no riches render may.