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The legend of CAMBELL and TELAMOND;

or of Friendship. : ..


he rugged forehead, that with grave foresight

Wields kingdoms causes, and affairs of state,
My looser rhimes, I wote, doth sharply wite,
For praising Love as I have done of late.
And magnifying lovers dear debate ;
By which frail youth is oft to folly led,
Through false allurement of that pleasing bait,

That better were in vertues discipled,
Than with vain poems weeds to have their fancies fed.

Such ones ill judge of Love, that cannot love.

Ne in their frozen hearts feel kindly flame:
Forthy they ought not thing unknown reprove,
Ne natural affection faultless blame,
For fault of few that have abus’d the same,
For it of honour and all vertue is
The root, and brings forth glorious flowres of fame,

That crown true lovers with immortal bliss,
The meed of them that love, and do not live amiss.


A 2

Which whoso lift look back to former ages,

And call to count the things that then were done,
Shall find that all the works of those wise Sages,
And brave exploics which great herëoes won,
In Love were either ended or begun :
Witness the father of philosophy,
Which to his Critias, shaded oft from sun,

Of Love full many leffons did apply,
The which these stoick censors cannot well deny.

To such therefore I do not fing at all.;

But to that facred saint my soveraine Queen,
In whose chatte breast all bounty natural,
And treasures of true Love enlocked been,
'Bove all her sex that ever yet was seen ;
To her I sing of Love, that loveth best,
And best is lov'd of all alive I ween:

To her this song most fitly is addrest,
The Queen of Love, and Prince of peace from heaven bleft.

Which that she may the better deign to hear,

Do thou dred Infant, Venus dearling dove,
From her high spirit chase imperious fear,
And use of awful majesty remove :
Instead thereof with drops of melting Love,
Dew'd with ambrosial kifles, by thee gotten
From thy sweet smiling mother from above,

Sprinkle her heart, and haughty courage soften, That she may heark to Love, and read this leffon often.

C Α Ν Τo 1.

Fair Britomart saves Amoret :

Duessa discord breeds,
Twixt Scudamour and Blandamour

Tbeir fight and warlike deeds.

1. Of lovers fad calamities of old,

Full many piteous stories do rėmain :
But none more piteous ever was ytold,
Than that of Amorets heart-binding chain,
And this of Florimel?s unworthy pain :
The dear compassion of whofe bittter fit
My softned heart fo forely doth constraining

That I with tears full oft do pity it,
And oftentimes do with it never had been writ.

For from the time that Scudamour her bought

In per'lous fight, she never joyed day,
A per’lous fight when he with force her brought
From twenty Knights that did him all affay :
Yet fairly well he did them all dismay :
And with great glory both the shield of Love,
And eke the Lady self he brought away;

Whom having wedded as did him behove,
A new unknowen mischief did from him remove.

For that same vile enchanter Bufiran,

The very self same day that she was wedded,
Amidst the bridal feast, whilst every man
Surcharg'd with wine, were heedless and ill-headed,
All bent to mirch before the bride was bedded,
Brought in that mask of love which late was showns
And chere the Lady ill of friends beitedded,

By way of sport, as oft in masks is known,
Conveyed quite away to living wight unknown,

Seven months he fo her kept in bitter smart,

Because his sinful luft she would not ferve,
Until such time as noble Britomart
Released her, that else was like to sterve,
Through cruel knife that her dear heart did kerve.
And now she is with her upon the way,
Marching in lovely wise that could deserve

No spot of blame, though spite did oft assay
To blot her with dishonour of fo fair a prey.

Yer should it be a pleasant tale to tell

The diverse usage and demeanure daint,
That each to other made, as oft befell,
For Amoret right fearful was and faint,
Left she with blame her honour should attaint,
That every word did tremble as she fpake,
And every look was coy, and wondrous quaint,

And every limb that touched her did quake:
Yet could she not but courteous count'nance to her make.

For well she wist, as true it was indeed,

That her life's Lord, and patron of her health,
Right well deserved as his dueful meed,
Her Love, her service, and her utmost wealth.
All is his justly, that all freely dealth :
Nath'less her honour dearer than her life,
She sought to save, as thing reserv'd from stealth;

Dye had she liefer with enchanters knife,
Than to be false in Love, profest a virgin wife.

Thereto her fear was made so much the greater

Through fine abusion of that Briton maid :
Who for to hide her feigned sex the better,
And mask her wounded mind, both did and said
Full many things fo doubtful to be weigh'd
: That well she wist not what by them to guess:
For otherwhiles to her she purpose made

Of Love, and otherwhiles of luftfulness,
That much she fear'd his mind would grow to some excess.

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