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There was the Liffy rolling downe the lea; And after these the sea-nymphs marched all, The sandy Slane; the stony Aubrian;

All goodly damzels, deckt with long greene haire, The spacious Shenan spreading like a sea;

Whom of their sire Nereïdes men call,
The pleasant Boyne; the fishy fruitfull Ban; All which the Oceans daughter to him bare,
Swift Awniduff, which of the English man

The gray-eyde Doris ; all which fifty are;
Is cal’de Blacke-water; and the Liffar deep; All which she there on her attending had:
Sad Trowis, that once his people over-ran; Swift Proto; milde Eucratè; Thetis faire ;
Strong Allo tombling from Slewlogher steep; (weep. Soft Spio; sweete Endore; Sao sad;
And Mulla mine, whose waves I whilom taught to Light Doto ; wantou Glaucè; and Galenè glad;
And there the three renowmed brethren were, White-hand Eunica; proud Dynamenė;
Which that great gyant Blomius begot

loyous Thalia; goodly Amphitrite;
Of the faire nimph Rheusa wandring there: Lovely Pasithee; kinde Eulimene;
One day, as she to shunne the scason whot Light-foote Cymot hoë; and sweete Melite;
Under Slewboome in shady grove was got,

Fairest Pherusa; Phao hlly white;
This gyant found her and by force deflowrd; Wondred Agavè ; Poris; and Nesæa ;
Whereof conceiving, she in time forth brought With Erato that doth in love delite;
These three faire sons, which being thenceforth powrd And Panopæ; and wise Protomedæa;
In three great rivers ran, and many countreis scowrd. And snowy-neckd Doris; and milke-white Gala:

The first the gentle Shure that, making way
By sweet Clonmell, adornes rich Waterford ; Speedy Hippothoë; and chaste Actea;
The next, the stubborne Newre, whose waters gray Large Lisianassa ; and Pronæa sage;
By faire Kilkenny and Rosseponte boord;

Euagorè; and light Pontoporea;
The third, the goodly Barow which doth hoord And, she that with her least word can assuage
Great heaps of salmons in his deepe bosóme: The surging seas when they do sorest rage,
All which, long sundred, doe at last accord Cymodocè; and stout Autonoë;
To joyne in one, ere to the sea they come; And Neso; and Eione well in age;
So, flowing all from one, all one at last become. And seeming still to smile Glauconomè;

And, she that hight of many heastes, Polynome; There also was the wide embayed Mayre; The pleasaunt Bandon crownd with many a wood;

Fresh Alimeda deckt with girlond greene ;
The spreading Lee that, like an island fayre, Hyponeo with salt-bedewed wrests;
Encloseth Corke with his divided flood ;

Laomedia like the christall sheene ;
And balefull Oure late staind with English blood : Liagorè much praisd for wise behests;
With many more whose names no tongue can tell. And Psamathè for her brode snowy brests;
All wluich that day in order seemly good

Cymo; Eupompè; and Themistè iust;
Did on tbe Thames attend, and waited well And, she that vertue loves and vice detests,
To doe their dueful service, as to them befell. Euarna ; and Menippe true in trust;

And Nemertea learned well to rule her lust.
Then came the bride, the lovely Medua came,
Clad in a vesture of unknowen geare

All these the daughters of old Nereus were,
And uncouth fashion, yet her well became, Which have the sea in charge to them assinde,
That seem'd like silver sprinckled here and theare To rule his tides, and surges to uprere,
With glittering spangs that did like starres appeare, To bring forth stormes, or fast them to upbinde,
And wav'd upon, like water chamelot,

And sailers save from wreckes of wrathfull winde. To hide the metall, which yet every where And yet besides, three thousand more there were Bewrayd itselfe, to let men plainely wot

Of th’ Oceans seede, but loves and Phæbus kinde; It was no mortall worke, that seem'd and yet was not. The which in floods and fountaines doe appere,

And all mankinde do nourish with their waters clere. Her goodly lockes adowne her backe did flow Unto her waste, with flowres bescattered,

The which, more eath it were for mortall wight The which ambrosiall odours forth did throw To tell the sands, or count the starres on hye, To all about, and all her shoulders spred

Or ought more hard, then thinke to reckon right, As a new spring; and likewise on her hed

But well I wote that these, which I descry, A chapelet of sundry flowers she wore,

Were present at this great solemnity :
From under which the deawy humour shed And there, amongst the rest, the mother was
Did tricle downe her haire, like to the hore Of luckelesse Marinell, Cymodocè;
Congealed litle drops which doe the morne adore. Which, for my Muse herselfe now tyred has,

Unto an other canto I will overpas.
On her two pretty handmaides did attend,
One cald the Theise, the other cald the Crane;
Which on her waited things amisse to mend,
And both behind upheld her spredding traine;
Under the which her feet appeared plaine,
Her silver feet, faire washt against this day ;.
And her before there paced pages twaine,
Both clad in colours like and like array,
The Doune and eke the Frith, both which prepard

her way.

“ Yet loe! the seas I see by often beating CANTO XII.

Doe pearce the rockes; and hardest marble weares;

But his hard rocky bart for no entreating Marin, for love of Florimell,

Will yeeld, but, when my piteous plaints be heares,

Is hardned more with my aboundant teares : In languor wastes his life:

Yet though he never list to me relent, The nymph, bis mother, getteth her

But let me waste in woe my wretched yeares, And gives to him for wife.

Yet will I never of my love repent,

But ioy that for his sake I suffer prisonment. O what an endlesse worke bave I in hand, To count the seas abundant progeny,

“And when my weary ghost, with griefe outworne, Whose fruitfull seede farre passeth those in land, By timely death shall winne her wished rest, And also those which wonne in th' azure sky! Let then this plaint unto his cares be borne, For much more eath to tell the starres on hy, That blame it is, to him that armes profest, Albe they endlesse seeme in estimation,

To let her die whom he might have redrest!" Then to recount the seas posterity:

There did she pause, inforced to give place So fertile be the flouds in generation,

Unto the passion that her heart opprest; So huge their numbers, and so numberlesse their And, after she had wept and wail'd a space, nation.

She gan afresh thus to renew her wretched case : Therefore the antique wisards well invented “ Ye gods of seas, if any gods at all That Venus of the fomy sea was bred ;

Have care of right or ruth of wretches wrong, For that the seas by her are most augmented. By one or other way me woefull thrall Witnesse th' exceeding fry which there are fed, Deliver hence out of this dungeon strong, And wondrous sholes which may of none be red. In which I daily dying am too long : Then blame me not if I bare err'd in count And if ye deeme me death for loving one Of gods, of nymphs, of rivers, yet unred:

That loves not me, then doe it not prolong, Fortbough their numbers do much more surmount, But let me die and end my daies attone, Yet all those same were there which erst I did re- And let him live unlov'd, or love himselfe alone. count.

“ But if that life ve unto me decree, All those were there, and many other more, Then let mee live, as lovers ought to do, Whose names and nations were tou long to tell, And of my lifes deare love beloved be: That Proteus house they fild even to the dore; And, if he should through pride your doome undo, Yet were they all in order, as befell,

Do you by duresse him compell thereto, According their degrees disposed well.

And in this prison put him here with me; Amongst the rest was faire Cymodocè,

One prison fittest is to hold us two: The mother of unlucky Marinell,

So had I rather to be thrall then free; Who thither with her came, to learne and see Such thraldome or such freedome let it surely be. The manner of the gods when they at banquet be.

“ But ( vaine iudgment, and conditions vaine, But for he was halfe mortall, being bred

The which the prisoner points unto the free ! Of mortal sire, though of immortall wombe, The whiles I him condemne, and deeme his paine, He might not with immortall food be fed, He where he list goes loose, and laughes at me: Ne with th' eternall gods to bancket come; So ever loose, so ever happy be ! But walkt abrode, and round about did rome But whereso loose or happy that thou art, To view the building of that uncouth place, Know, Marinell, that all this is for thee !" That seem'd unlike unto his earthly home: With that she wept and waild, as if her hart Where, as he to and fro by chaunce did trace, Would quite have burst through great abundance There unto him betid a disadventrous case.

of her smart. Under the hanging of an hideous clieffe

All which complaint when Marinell had heard, He heard the lamentable voice of one,

And understood the cause of all her care That pitevusly complaind her carefull grieffe, To come of him for using her so hard; Which never she before disclosd to none,

His stubborne heart, that never felt misfare, But to herselfe her sorrow did bemone:

Was toucht with soft remorse and pitty rare; So feelingly her case she did complaine,

That even for griefe of minde he oft did grone, That ruth it moved in the rocky stone,

And inly wish that in his powre it weare And made it seeme to feele her grievous paine, Her to redresse: but since he meanes found none, And oft to grone with billowes beating from the maine: He could no more but her great misery bemone. " Thongh vaine I see my sorrowes to unfold Thus whilst his stony heart with tender ruth And count my cares, when none is nigh to heare ; Was toucht, and mighty courage mollifide, Yet, hoping griefe may lessen being told,

Dame Venus sonne that tameth stubborne youth I will then tell though unto no man neare : With iron bit, and maketh him abide For Heaven, that unto all lends equall eare, Till like a victor on his backe he ride, Is farre from bearing of my heavy plight; Into his mouth his maystring bridle threw, And lowest Hell, to which I lie most neare, That made him stoupe, till he did him bestride : Cares not what evils hap to wretched wight: Then gan he make him tread his steps anew, And greedy seas doe in the spoile of life delight. And learne to love by learning lovers paines to rew, Now gan he in his grieved minde devise,

Which when his mother saw, she in her mind How from that dungeon he might her enlarge : Was troubled sore, ne wist well what to weene; Some while he thought, by faire and humble wise Ne could by search nor any meanes out find To Proteus selfe to sue for her discharge :

The secret cause and nature of his teene, But then he feard his mothers former charge Whereby she might apply some medicine; Gainst womens love, long given him in vaine: But weeping day and night did him attend, Then gan he thinke, perforce with sword and targe And mourn'd to see her losse before her eyne, Her forth to fetch, and Proteus to constraine : Which griev'd her more that she it could not mend: But soone he gan such folly to forthinke againe. To see an helplesse evill double griefe doth lend.

Then did he cast to steale her thence away, Nought could she read the root of his disease,
And with him beare where none of her might know. Ne weene what mister maladie it is,
But all in vaine: for why? he found no way Whereby to seeke some means to appease.
To enter in, or issue forth below;

Most did she thinke, but most she thought amis, For all about that rocke the sea did Row.

That that same former fatall wound of his And though into his will she given were,

Whyleare by Tryphon was not throughly healed, Yet, without ship or bote her thence to row, But closely rankled under th' oritis: He wist not how her thence a way to bere;

Least did she thinke, that which he most concealed, And daunger well he wist long to continue there. Tbat lore it was, which in his hart lay unrevealed. At last, whenas no meanes he could invent, Therefore to Tryphon she againe doth hast, Backe to himselfe be gan returve the blame, And hiin doth chyde as false and fraudulent, That was the author of her punishment;

That fayld the trust, which she in him had plast, And with vile curses and reprochfull shame To cure her sonne, as he his faith had lent; To damne himselfe by every evil name,

Who now was falne into new languishment And deeme unworthy or of love or life,

Of his old hurt, which was not throughly cured. That had despisde so chast and faire a dame, So backe he came unto her patient; Which him had sought through trouble and long Where searching every part, her well assured strife;

That it was no old sore which his new paine procured; Yet had refusde a god that her bad sought to wife.

But that it was some other maladie, In this sad plight he walked here and there, Or grief unknowne, which he could not discerne: And romed round about the rocke in vaine,

So left he her withouten remedie. As he had lost himselfe he wist not where; Then gan her heart to faint, and quake, and earne, Oft listening if he mote her heare againe;

And inly troubled was, the truth to learne. And still bemoning her unworthy paine:

Unto himselfe she came, and bim besought, Like as an hynde whose calfe is falne unwares

Now with faire speeches, now with threatningssterne, Into some pit, where she him heares complaine,

If ought lay hidden in his grieved thought, An hundred times about the pit side fares,

It to rereale: who still her answered, there was Right sorrowfully mourning her bereaved cares.

nought. And now by this the feast was throughly ended,

Nathlesse she rested not so satisfide; And every one gan homeward to resort:

But leaving watry gods, as booting nought, Which seeing, Marinell was sore offended

Unto the shinie Heaven in hastc she bide,
That his departure thence should be so short,

And thence Apollo king of leaches brought.
And leave his love in that sea-walled fort:
Yet durst he not his mother disobay;

Apollo came; who, soone as he had sought
But, her attending in full seemly sort,

Through his disease, did by and by out find

That he did languish of some inward thought, Did march amongst the many all the way;

The which amicted his engrieved mind; And all the way did inly mourne, like one astray. Which love he red to be, that leads each living kind. Being returned to his mothers bowre, In solitary silence far from wight

Which when he had unto his mother told, He gan record the lamentable stowre,

She gan thereat to fret and greatly grieve: In which his wretched love lay day and night,

And, comming to her sonne, gan first to scold For his deare sake, that ill deserv'd that plight:

And chyde at him that made her misbelieve: The thought whereof empierst his hart so deepe,

But afterwards she gan him soft to shrieve, That of no worldly thing he tooke delight;

And wooe with fair intreatie, to disclose Ne dayly food did take, ne nightly sleepe,

Which of the nymphes his heart so sore did mieve : But pyn’d, and moun'd, and languisht, and alone

For sure she weend it was some one of those,
Which he had lately seene, that for his love he chose.

did weepe;

That in short space his wonted chearefull hew
Gan fade, and lively spirits deaded quight:
His cheeke-bones raw, and eie-pits hollow grew,
And brawney armes had lost their knowen might,
That nothing like himselfe he seem'd in sight.
Ere long so weake of limbe, and sicke of love
He woxe, that lenger he note stand upright,
But to his bed was brought, and layd above,
Like ruefull ghost, unable once to stir or move.

Now lesse she feared that same fatall read,
That warned him of womens love beware :
Which being ment of mortal creatures sead,
For love of nymphes she thought she need not care,
But promist him, whatever wight she weare,
That she her love to him would shortly gaine:
So he her told: but soone as she did heare
That Florimell it was which wrought his paine,
She gan afresh to chafe, and grieve in every vaine.

Yet since she saw the streight extremitie,

He graunted it: and streight his warrant made, In which his life unluckily was layd,

Under the sea-god's seale autenticall, it was no time to scan the prophecie,

Commaunding Proteus streight t' enlarge the mayd Whether old Proteus true or false had sayd, Which wandring on his seas imperiall That his decay should happen by a mayd ; He lately tooke, and sithence kept as thrall. (It's late, in death, of daunger to advize;

Which she receiving with meete thankefulnesse, Or love forbid him, that his life denayd ;)

Departed straight to Proteus therewithall : But rather gan in troubled mind devize

Who, reading it with inward loathfulnesse, How she that ladies libertie might enterprize. Was grieved to restore the pledge he did possesse. To Proteus selfe to sew she thought it vaine, Yet durst he not the warrant to withstand, Who was the root and worker of her woe;

But unto her delivered Florimell. Nor unto any meaner to complaine;

Whom she receiving by the lilly hand, But unto great king Neptune selfe did goe, Admyrd her beautie much, as she mote well, And, on her knee before him falling lowe,

For she all living creatures did excell, Made humble suit unto his maiestie

And was right joyous that she gotten had To graunt to her her sonnes life, which his foe, So faire a wife for her sonne Marinell. A cruell tyrant, had presumpteouslie [die. So home with her she streight the virgin lad, By wicked doome condemn'd a wretched death to And shewed her to him then being sore bestad. To whom god Neptune, softly smyling, thus; Who soone as he beheld that angels face " Daughter, me seemes of double wrong ye plaine, Adorn’d with all divine perfectiou, Gainst one that hath both wronged you and us: His cheared heart eftsoones away gan chace For death t'adward I ween'd did appertaine Sad Death, revived with her sweet inspection, To none but to the seas sole soveraine :

And feeble spirit inly felt refection; Read therefore who it is which this bath wrought, As withered weed through cruell winters tine, And for what cause; the truth discover plaine : That feeles the warmth of sunny beames reflection, For never wight so evill did or thought,

Liftes up his head that did before decline, But would some rightfull cause pretend, though | And gins to spread his leafe before the faire sunrightly nought.”

shine. To whom she answer'd ; " Then it is by name Right so himselfe did Marinell upreare, Proteus, that bath ordayn'd my sonne to die; When he in place his dearest love did spy; For that a waift, the which by fortune came And though his limbs could not his bodie beare, Upon your seas, he claym'd as propertie:

Ne former strength returne so suddenly, And yet nor bis, nor his in equitie,

Yet chcarefull signes he shewed outwardly. But yours the waift by high prerogative :

Ne lesse was she in secret hart affected, Therefore I humbly crave your majestie

But that she masked it with modestie, It to replevie, and my sonne reprive:

For feare she should of lightnesse be detected : So shall you by one gift save all us three alive.” Which to another place I leave to be perfected,

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For whoso list into the Heavens looke, Soroft as I with state of present time

The image of the antique world compare, And search the courses of the rowling spheares, Whenas mans age was in his freshest prime, Shall find that from the point where they first tooke And the first blossome of faire vertue bare; Their setting forth, in these few thousand yeares Such oddes I finde twixt those, and these which are, They all are wandred much; that plaine appeares: As that, through long continuance of his course, For that same golden fleecy Ram, which bore Me seemes the world is runne quite out of square Phrixus and Helle from their stepdames feares, From the first point of his appointed sourse; Hath now forgot where he was plast of yore, And being once amisse growes daily wourse and And shouldred hath the Bull which fayre Europa wourse :

bore: For from the golden age, that first was named, And eke the Bull hath with his bow-bent horne It's now at earst become a stonie one;

So hardly butted those two Twinpes of love, And men themselves, the which at first were framed that they have crusht the Crab, and quite bim Of earthly mould, and form'd of flesh and bone, Into the great Nemæan Lions grove.

[borne Are now transformed into hardest stone;

So now all range, and doe at random rove Such as bebind their backs (so backward bred) Out of their proper places farre away, Were throwne by Pyrrha and Deucalione:

And all this world with them amisse doe move, And if then those may any worse be red,

And all his creatures from their course astray; They into that ere long will be degendered. Till they arrive at their last ruinous decay. Let none then blame me, if, in discipline

Ne is that same great glorious lampe of light, Of vertue and of civill uses lore,

That doth enlumine all these lesser fyres, I do not forme them to the common line

In better case, ne keepes his course more right, Of present dayes which are corrupted sore; But is miscaried with the other spheres: But to the antique use which was of yore,

For since the terme of fourteen hundred yeres, When good was onely for itselfe desyred,

That learned Ptolomæe his hight did take, And all men sought their owne, and none no more; He is declyned from that marke of theirs When Iustice was not for most meed out-hyred, Nigh thirtie minutes to the southerne lake; But simple Truth did rayne, and was of all admyred. That makes me feare in time he will us quite forsake. For that which all men then did vertue call, And if to those Ægyptian wisards old Is now cald vice; and that which vice was hight, (Which in star-read were wont have best insight) Is now hight vertue, and so us'd of all:

Faith may be given, it is by them told Right now is wrong, and wrong that was is right; That since the time they first tooke the Sunnes hight, As all things else in time are chaunged quight: Foure times his place he shifted hath in sight, Ne wonder, for the Heavens revolution

And twice hath risen where he now doth west, Is wandred farre from where it first was pight, And wested twice where he ought rise aright And so doe make contrárie constitution

But most is Mars amisse of all the rest; Of all this lower world toward his dissolution. And next to him old Saturne, that was wont be best.

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