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did Ny.

The first was Fansy, like a lovely boy

Of rare aspect and beautie without peare,

Matchable either to that'ympe of Troy,

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

To great Alcides, that, whenas he dyde, Whence Britomart redeemes fairé A

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

And every wood and every valley wyde (cryde.

He filld with Hylas name; the nymphes eke Hyles Tao, whenas chearelesse Night ycovered had His garment neither was of silke nor say, Fayre Heaven with an universall clowd,

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

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

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

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

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

And in his hand a windy fan did beare, Expecting ever when some fue she might descry. That in the ydle ayre be mov'd still here and theare. With that, an hideous storme of winde arose, And him beside marcht amorous Desyre, With dreadfull thunder and lightning atwixt, Who seemd of ryper yeares then th' other swayne, And an earthquake, as if it streight would lose Yet was that other swayne this elders syre, The worlds foundations from his centre fixt : And gave him being, commune to them twayne : A direfull stench of smoke and sulphure mixt His garinent was disguysed very vayue, Ensewd, whose noyauuce fild the fearefull sted And his embrodered bonet sat awry : From the fourth howre of night untill the sixt; Twixt both his hands few sparks he close did strayne, Yet the bold Britonesse was nought ydred,

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

vered. All suddeinly a stormy whirlwind blew

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

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

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

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

And nycely trode, as thornes lay in his way, That in his hand a braunch of laurell bore, Or that the flore to shrinke he did avyse; With comely haveour and coumt'nance sage, And on a broken reed be still did stay [he lay. Yclad in costly garments fit for tragicke stage. His feeble steps, which shrunck when hard thereon Proceeding to the midst he stil did stand, With him went Daunger, cloth'd in ragged weed As if in minde he somewhat had to say ;

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And, his owne armes when glittering he did spy With wanton bardes, and rymers impudent; Or clashing heard, he fast away did Ay, All which together song full chearefully

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

With which she sprinckled favours manifold And, when they ceast, it gan againe to play,

On whom she list, and did great liking sheowe, The whiles'the maskers marched forth in trim aray. Great liking into many, but true love to feowes VOL IIL

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His blindfold eies he bad awhile unbinde,
His rolling cjes did never rest in place,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

About the chamber by the damozell; Yet in that horror shewd a seemely grace,

And then returned, having marched thrise, And with her feeble feete did more a comely pace. Into the inner rowme from whence they first did rise. Her brest all naked, as nett yvory

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Upon th' enchaunter which had her distrest From doing him to dy; for else her paine So sore, and with foule outrages opprest: Should be remédilesse ; sith nope but hee With that great chaine, wherewith not long ygoe Which wrought it could the same recure againe. He bound that pitteous lady prisoner now relest, Therewith she stayd her hand, loth stayd to bee; Himselfe she bound, more worthy to be so, For life she him envyde, and long'd revenge to see: Aod captive with her led to wretcheduesse and wo.

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

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

She found, and all their glory quite decayd;
That sight of such a chaunge her much dismayd. At last she came unto the place, where late
Thence forth descending to that perlous porch, She left sir Scudamour in great distresse,
Those dreadfull flames she also found delayd Twixt dolour and despight half desperate,
And quenched quite like a consumed torch, Of his loues succour, of his owne redresse,
That erst all entrers wont so cruelly to scorch. And of the hardie Britomarts successe:

There on the cold earth bim now thrown she found, More easie issew now then cntrance late

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

ground. Was vanisht quite, as it were not the same, And gave her leave at pleasure forth to passe. There did he see, that most on Earth him ioyd, Th'enchaunter selfe, which all that fraud did frame His dearest loue, the comfort of his dayes, To have efforst the love of that faire lasse, Whose too long absence him had sore annoyd, Seeing his worke now wasted, deepe engrieved was. And wearied his life with dull delayes :

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

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

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

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

But like two senceless stocks in long embracements Misdeeming sure that her those flames did burne;

dwelt. And therefore gan advize with her old squire, Who her deare nourslings losse no lesse did mourne, Had ye them seene, ye would have surely thought Thence to depart for further aide t'enquire : That they had been that faire hermaphrodite, Where let them wend at will, whilest here I doe Which that rich Roman of white marble wrought, respire.

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

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

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THE rugged forhead, that with grave foresight Which that she may the better deigne to heare,

Welds kingdomes causes and affaires of state, Do thou, dread infant, Venus dearling dove, My looser rimes, I wote, doth sharply wite From her high spirit chase imperious feare, For praysing love as I have done of late,

And use of awfull maiestie remove: And magnifying lovers deare debate;

Insted thereof with drops of melting love, By whicħ fraile youth is oft to follie led,

Deawd with ambrosiall kisses, by thee gotten
Through false allurement of that pleasing baite, From thy sweete-smyling mother from above,
That better were in vertues discipled, [fed. Sprinckle her heart, and haughtie courage soften,
Then with raine poemes weeds to have their fancies That she may hearke to love, and reade this lesson

Sach ones ill iudge of love, that cannot love,
Ne in their frosen hearts feele kindly flame;
Forthy they ought not thing unknowne reprove,
Ne naturall affection faultlesse blame
For fault of few that have abusd the same:

For it of honor and all vertue is
The roote, and brings forth glorious flowres of fame,

Fayre Britomart saves Amoret:
That crowne true lovers with immortall blis,

Duessa discord breedes The meed of them that love, and do not live amisse.

Twixt Scudamour and Blandamour:

Their fight and warlike deedes.
Which whoso list looke backe to former ages,
And call to count the things that then were donne, Op lovers sad calamities of old
Shall find that all the workes of those wise sages,

Pull many piteous stories doe remaine,
And brave exploits which great heroës wonne,

But none more piteous ever was ytold In love were either ended or begunne:

Then that of Amorets hart-binding chaine, Witnesse the Father of Philosophie,

And this of Florimels unworthie paine: Which to his Critias, shaded oft from Sunne,

The deare compassion of whose bitter fit Of love full manie lessons did apply,

My softned heart so sorely doth constraine, The which these stoicke censours cannot well deny. That I with teares full oft doe pittie it,

And oftentimes doe wish it never bad bene writ. To such therefore I do not sing at all; But to that sacred saint my soveraigne queene, For, from the time that Scudamour her bought In whose chast brest all bountie naturall

In perilous fight, she never joyed day; And treasures of true love enlocked beene, A perilous fight! when he with force her brought Bore all her sexe that ever yet was seene; From twentie knights that did him all assay; To her I sing of love, that loveth best,

Yet fairely well he did them all dismay, And best is lord of all alive I weene;

And with great glorie both the shield of Love To her this song most fitly is addrest,

And eke the ladie selfe he brought away; The Queene of Love, and Prince of Peace from Whom having wedded, as did him behove, Heaven blest.

A new unknowen mischiefe did from him remove.

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