Tho, up him taking in their tender hands,
They easely unto her charett beare:

Her teme at her commaundement quiet stands,
Whiles they the corse into her wagon reare,
And strowe with flowres the lamentable beare:
Then all the rest into their coches clim,
And through the brackish waves their passage sheare;
Upon great Neptunes necke they softly swim,
And to her watry chamber swiftly carry him.

Deepe in the bottome of the sea, her bowre Is built of hollow billowes heaped hye,

But nothing might relent her hasty flight;
So deepe the deadly feare of that foule swaine
Was earst impressed in her gentle spright:
Like as a fearefull dove, which through the raine
Of the wide ayre her way does cut amaine,
Having farre off espyde a tasseli gent,

| Which after her his nimble winges doth straine,
Doubleth her hast for feare to bee for-hent,
And with her pineons cleaves the liquid firmament.

The whiles the nymphes sitt all about him rownd,
Lamenting his mishap and heavy plight;
And ofte his mother, vewing his wide wownd,
Cursed the hand that did so deadly smight
Her dearest sonne, her dearest harts delight:
But none of all those curses overtooke

The warlike maide, th' ensample of that might;
But fayrely well shee thryvd, and well did brooke
Her noble deedes, ne her right course for ought for-
sooke.

Yet did false Archimage her still pursew,
To bring to passe his mischievous intent,
Now that he had her singled from the crew
Of courteous knights, the prince and Fary gent,
Whom late in chace of beauty excellent
Shee lefte, pursewing that same foster strong;
Of whose fowle outrage they impatient,
And full of firy zele, him followed long,

[wrong. To reskew her from shame, and to revenge her

Through thick and thin, through mountains and through playns,

Those two great champions did attonce pursew
The fearefull damzell with incessant payns;
Who from them fled, as light-foot hare from vew
Of hunter swifte and sent of howndes trew.
At last they came unto a double way;
Where, doubtfull which to take, her to reskéw,
Themselves they did dispart, each to assay
Whether more happy were to win so goodly pray.

But Timias, the princes gentle squyre,
That ladies love unto his lord forlent,
And with proud envy and indignant yre
After that wicked foster fiercely went:

So beene they three, three sondry wayes ybent:
Bat fayrest fortune to the prince befell;
Whose chaunce it was, that soone he did repent,
To take that way in which that damozell
Was fledd afore, affraid of him as feend of Hell.

At last of her far off he gained vew:
Then gan he freshly pricke his fomy steed,
And ever as he nigher to ber drew,
So evermore he did increase his speed,
And of each turning still kept wary heed:
Alowd to her he oftentimes did call

To doe away vaine doubt and needlesse dreed:
Full myld to her he spake, and oft let fall
Many meeke wordes to stay and comfort her withall.

Yet former feare of being fowly shent
Carried her forward with her first intent:
And though, oft looking backward, well she vewde
Herselfe freed from that foster insolent,

And that it was a knight which now her sewde, Yet she no lesse the knight feard then that villein rude.

His uncouth shield and straunge armes her dismayd,
Whose like in Faery loud were seldom seene;
That fast she from him fledd, no lesse afrayd
Then of wilde beastes if she had chased beene :
Yet he her followd still with corage keene
So long, that now the golden Hesperus
Was mounted high in top of Heaven sheene,
And warnd his other brethren ioyeous

To light their blessed lamps in loves eternall hous.

All suddeinly dim wox the dampish ayre,
And griesly shadowes covered Heaven bright,
That now with thousand starres was decked fayre:
Which when the prince beheld, a lothfull sight,
And that perforce, for want of lenger light,
He mote surceasse his suit, and lose the hope
Of his long labour; he gan fowly wyte
His wicked fortune that had turnd aslope,
And cursed Night that reft from him so goodly scope.
Tho, when her wayes he could no more descry,
But to and fro at disaventure strayd;
Like as a ship, whose lodestar suddenly
Covered with clouds her pilott hath dismayd;
His wearisome pursuit perforce he stayd,
And from his loftie steed dismounting low
Did let him forage: downe himselfe he layd
Upon the grassy ground to sleepe a throw;
The cold earth was his couch, the hard steele his
pillów.

But gentle Sleepe envyde him any rest;
Instead thereof sad sorow and disdaine
Of his hard harp did vexe his noble brest,
And thousand fancies bett his ydle brayne
With their light wings, the sights of semblants vaine:
Oft did he wish that lady faire mote bee
His Faery queene, for whom he did complaine;
Or that his Faery queene were such as shee:
And ever hasty Night he blamed bitterlie:

"What had th' Eternal Maker need of thee
The world in his continuall course to keepe,
That doest all thinges deface, ne lettest see
The heautie of his worke? Indeed in sleepe
The slouthfull body that doth love to steepe
His lustlesse limbes, and drowne his baser mind,
Doth praise thee oft, and oft from Stygian deepe
Calls thee his goddesse, in his errour blind,
And great dame Natures handmaide chearing every
kind.

"But well I wote that to an heavy hart
Thou art the roote and nourse of bitter cares,
Breeder of new, renewer of old smarts;
Instead of rest thou lendest rayling teares;
Instead of sleepe thou sendest troublous feares
And dreadfull visions, in the which alive
The dreary image of sad Death appeares:
So from the wearie spirit thou doest drive
Desired rest, and men of happinesse deprive.
"Under thy mantle black their hidden lye
Light-shonning Thefte, and traiterous Intent,
Abhorred Bloodshed, and vile Felony,
Shamefull Deceipt, and Dauuger imminent,
Fowle Horror, and eke hellish Dreriment:
All these I wote in thy protection bee,
And light doe shonne, for feare of being shent:
For light ylike is loth'd of them and thee;

And all, that lewdnesse love, doe hate the light to see.

CANTO V

Prince Arthur hears of Florimell: Three fosters Timias wound; Belphœbe findes him almost dead, And reareth out of swownd.

WONDER it is to see in diverse mindes
How diversly Love doth his pageants play,
And shewes his powre in variable kindes:
The baser wit, whose ydle thoughts alway
Are wont to cleave unto the lowly clay,
It stirreth up to sensuall desire,

And in lewd slouth to wast his careless day;
But in brave sprite it kindles goodly fire,
That to all high desert and honour doth aspire.

Ne suffereth it uncomely Idlenesse

In his free thought to build her sluggish nest;
Ne suffereth it thought of ungentlenesse
Ever to creepe into his noble brest;
But to the highest and the worthiest
Lifteth it up that els would lowly fall:
It lettes not fall, it lettes it not to rest;

It lettes not scarse this prince to breath at all,
But to his first poursuit him forward still doth call:

"What mister wight," saide he, "and how arayd?”
Royally clad," quoth he, "in cloth of gold,
As meetest may beseeme a noble mayd;
Her faire lockes in rich circlet be enrold,,
A fayrer wight did never Sunne behold;
And on a palfrey rydes more white then snow,
Yet she herselfe is whiter manifold;
The surest signe, whereby ye may her know,
Is, that she is the fairest wight alive, I trow.”

"Now certes, swaine," saide he, "such one, I weene,
Fast flying through this forest from her fo,
A foule ill-favoured foster, I have seene;
Herselfe, well as I might, I reskewd tho,
But could not stay; so fast she did foregoe,
Carried away with wings of speedy feare."
"Ah! dearest God," quoth he, "that is great woe,
And wondrous ruth to all that shall it heare:
But can ye read, sir, how I may her finde, or where ?**.

At last, through wrath and vengeaunce, making way
He on the bancke arryvd with mickle payne;
Where the third brother him did sore assay,
And drove at him with all his might and mayne
A forest-bill, which both his hands did strayne;
But warily he did avoide the blow,

And with his speare requited him agayne,
That both his sides were thrilled with the throw,
And a large streame of bloud out of the wound did
flow.

He, tombling downe, with gnashing teeth did bite
The bitter earth, and bad to lett him in
Into the balefull house of endlesse night,
Where wicked ghosts doe waile their former sin.
Tho gan the battaile freshly to begin;
For nathëmore for that spectacle bad
Did th' other two their cruell vengeaunce blin,
But both attonce on both sides him bestad,
And load upon him layd, his life for to have had.

Tho when that villayn he aviz'd, which late
Affrighted had the fairest Florimell,
Full of fiers fury and indignant hate
To him he turned, and with rigor fell
Smote him so rudely on the pannikell,

That to the chin he clefte his head in twaine :
Downe on the ground his carkas groveling fell;
His sinfull sowle with desperate disdaine
Out of her fleshly ferme fled to the place of paine.
That seeing, now the only last of three
Who with that wicked shafte him wounded had,
Trembling with horror, (as that did foresee
The fearefull end of his avengement sad,
Through which he follow should his brethren bad,)
His bootelesse bow in feeble hand upcaught,
And therewith shott an arrow at the lad;
Which fayntly fluttring scarce his helmet raught,
And glauncing fel to ground, but him annoyed
naught.

With that, he would have fled into the wood;
But Timias him lightly overhent,
Right as he entring was into the flood,
And strooke at him with force so violent,
That headlesse him into the foord he sent;
The carcas with the streame was carried downe,
But th' head fell backeward on the continent;
So mischief fel upon the meaners crowne:
They three be dead with shame; the squire lives

with renowne:

Shortly she came whereas that woefull squire
With blood deformed lay in deadly swownd;
In whose faire eyes, like lamps of quenched fire,
The christall humor stood congealed rownd;
His locks, like faded leaves fallen to grownd,
Knotted with blood in bounches rudely ran;
And his sweete lips, on which before that stownd
The bud of youth to blossome faire began,
Spoild of their rosy red were woxen pale and wan.

Saw never living eie more heavy sight,
That could have made a rocke of stone to rew,
Or rive in twaine: which when thatlady bright,
Besides all hope, with melting eies did vew,
All suddeinly abasht shee chaunged hew,
And with sterne horror backward gan to start:
But, when shee better him beheld, shee grew
Full of soft passion and unwonted smart:
The point of pitty perced through her tender hart.
Meekely shee bowed downe, to weete if life
Yett in his frosen members did remaine;
And, feeling by his pulses beating rife
That the weake sowle her seat did yett retaine,
Shee cast to comfort him with busy paine:
His double-folded necke she reard upright,
And rubd his temples and each trembling vaine;
His mayled haberieon she did undight,
And from his head his heavy burganet did light.
Into the woods thenceforth in haste shee went,
To seeke for hearbes that mote him remedy;
For shee of herbes had great intendiment,
Taught of the nymphe which from her infancy
Her nourced had in trew nobility:

There, whether yt divine tobacco were,
Or panachæa, or polygony,

She fownd, and brought it to her patient deare,
Who al this while lay bleding out his hart-blood

neare.

The soveraine weede betwixt two marbles plaine
Shee pownded small, and did in peeces bruze;
And then atweene her lilly handës twaine
Into his wound the juice thereof did scruze;
And round about, as she could well it uze,
The flesh therewith she suppled and did steepe,
T' abate all spasme and soke the swelling bruze ;
And, after having searcht the intuse deepe,
She with her scarf did bind the wound, from cold
to keepe.

By this he had sweet life recur'd agayne,
And, groning inly deepe, at last his eies,
His watry eies drizling like deawy rayne,
He up gan lifte toward the azure skies,
From whence descend all hopelesse remedies:
Therewith he sigh'd; and, turning him aside,
The goodly maide full of divinities

And gifts of heavenly grace he by him spide, Her bow and gilden quiver lying him beside.

"Mercy! deare Lord," said he, "what grace is this |
That thou hast shewed to me sinfull wight,
To send thine angell from her bowre of blis
To comfort me in my distressed plight!
Angell, or goddesse doe I call thee right?
What service may I doe unto thee meete,
That hast from darkenes me returnd to light,
And with thy hevenly salves and med'cines sweete
Hast drest my sinfull wounds! I kisse thy blessed
feete."

Thereat she blushing said; "Ah! gentle squire,
Nor goddesse I, nor angell; but the mayd
And daughter of a woody nymphe, desire
No service but thy safety and ayd;
Which if thou gaine, I shal be well apayd.
Wee mortall wights, whose lives and fortunes bee
To commun accidents stil open layd,

Are bownd with commun bond of fraïltee,

To succor wretched wights whom we captived see."

By this her damzells, which the former chace
Had undertaken after her, arryv'd,
As did Belphoebe, in the bloody place,
And thereby deemd the beast had bene depriv'd
Of life, whom late their ladies arow ryv'd:
Forthy the bloody tract they followd fast,
And every one to ronne the swiftest stryv'd;
But two of them the rest far overpast,
And where their lady was arrived at the last.

Where when they saw that goodly boy with blood
Defowled, and their lady dresse his wownd,
They wondred much; and shortly understood
How him in deadly cace their lady fownd,
And reskewed out of the heavy stownd.
Eftsoones his warlike courser, which was strayd
Farre in the woodes whiles that he lay in swownd,
She made those damzels search; which being stayd,
They did him set thereon, and forth with them con-
vayd.

Into that forest farre they thence him led
Where was their dwelling; in a pleasant glade
With mountaines rownd about environed
And mightie woodes, which did the valley shade,
And like a stately theatre it made
Spreading itselfe into a spatious plaine;
And in the midst a little river plaide
Emongst the pumy stones, which seemd to plaine
With gentle murmure that his course they did re-
straine.

Beside the same a dainty place there lay,
Planted with mirtle trees and laurells greene,
In which the birds song many a lovely lay

Of Gods high praise, and of their sweet loves teene,
As it an earthly paradize had beene:
In whose enclosed shadow there was pight
A faire pavilion, scarcely to be seene,
The which was al within most richly dight,
That greatest princes living it mote well delight.
Thether they brought that wounded squire, and layd
In easie couch his feeble limbes to rest.
He rested him awhile; and then the mayd
His readie wound with better salves new drest:
Daily she dressed him, and did the best,
His grievous hurt to guarish, that she might;
That shortly she his dolour hath redrest,
And his foule sore reduced to faire plight:
It she reduced, but himselfe destroyed quight.

O foolish physick, and unfruitfull paine,
That heales up one, and makes another wound!
She his hurt thigh to him recurd againe,
But hurt his hart, the which before was sound,
Through an unwary dart which did rebownd
From her faire eyes and gratious countenance.
What bootes it him from death to be unbownd,
To be captived in endlesse duraûnce
Of sorrow and despeyre without aleggeaunce!

Still as his wound did gather, and grow hole,
So still his hart woxe sore, and health decayd:
Madnesse to save a part, and lose the whole! -
Still whenas he beheld the heavenly mayd,
Whiles daily playsters to his wownd she layd,
So still his malady the more increast,
The whiles her matchlesse beautie him dismayd.
Ah, God! what other could he do at least,
But love so fayre a lady that his life releast!

Long while he strove in his corageous brest
With reason dew the passion to subdew,
And love for to dislodge out of his nest:
Still when her excellencies he did vew,
Her soveraine bountie and celestiall hew,
The same to love he strongly was constraynd:
But, when his meane estate he did revew,
He from such hardy boldnesse was restraynd,
And of his lucklesse lott and cruell love thus
playnd:

"Unthankfull wretch," said he, "is this the meed,
With which her soverain mercy thou doest quight?
Thy life she saved by her gratious deed;
But thou doest weene with villeinous despight
To blott her honour and her heavenly light:
Dye; rather dye then so disloyally
Deeme of her high desert, or seeme so light:
Fayre death it is, to shonne more shame, to dy:
Dye; rather dye then ever love disloyally.

"But if to love disloyalty it bee,

Shall I then hate her that from deathës dore
Me brought? ah! farre be such reproch fro mee!
What can I lesse doe then her love therefore,
Sith I her dew reward cannot restore ?
Dye; rather dye, and dying doe her serve;
Dying her serve, and living her adore;
Thy life she gave, thy life she doth deserve:
Dye; rather dye then ever from her service swerve.

"But, foolish boy, what bootes thy service bace
To her, to whom the Hevens doe serve and sew?
Thou, a meane squyre of meeke and lowly place;
She, hevenly borne and of celestiall hew.
How then? of all love taketh equall vew;
And doth not highest God vouchsafe to take
The love and service of the basest crew?
If she will not; dye meekly for her sake:
Dye; rather dye then ever so faire love forsake!"

Thus warreid he long time against his will;
Till that through weaknesse he was forst at last
To yield himselfe unto the mightie ill,
Which, as a victour proud, gan ransack fast
His inward partes, and all his entrayles wast,
That neither blood in face nor life in hart
It left, but both did quite dry up and blast;
As percing levin, which the inner part
Of every thing consumes and calcineth by art.