Chapter 14

Cant. VIII.The gentle Squire recouers grace,Sclaunder[133]her guests doth staine:Corflambo chaseth Placidas,And is by Arthure slaine.

Cant. VIII.

The gentle Squire recouers grace,Sclaunder[133]her guests doth staine:Corflambo chaseth Placidas,And is by Arthure slaine.

The gentle Squire recouers grace,Sclaunder[133]her guests doth staine:Corflambo chaseth Placidas,And is by Arthure slaine.

The gentle Squire recouers grace,Sclaunder[133]her guests doth staine:Corflambo chaseth Placidas,And is by Arthure slaine.

The gentle Squire recouers grace,Sclaunder[133]her guests doth staine:Corflambo chaseth Placidas,And is by Arthure slaine.

The gentle Squire recouers grace,Sclaunder[133]her guests doth staine:Corflambo chaseth Placidas,And is by Arthure slaine.

The gentle Squire recouers grace,Sclaunder[133]her guests doth staine:Corflambo chaseth Placidas,And is by Arthure slaine.

The gentle Squire recouers grace,

Sclaunder[133]her guests doth staine:

Corflambo chaseth Placidas,

And is by Arthure slaine.

Well said the wiseman, now prou’d true by this,iWhich to this gentle Squire did happen late,That the displeasure of the mighty isThen death it selfe more dread[134]and desperate.For naught the same may calme ne mitigate,Till time the tempest doe thereof delayWith sufferaunce soft, which rigour can abate,And haue the sterne remembrance wypt awayOf bitter thoughts, which deepe therein infixed lay.Like as it fell to this vnhappy boy,iiWhose tender heart the faireBelphebehad[135]With one sterne looke so daunted, that no ioyIn all his life, which afterwards he lad,He euer tasted, but with penaunce sadAnd 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 wiseiiiHis doole he made, there chaunst a turtle DoueTo 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 heartWith 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,ivHer mournefull notes full piteously did frame,And thereof made a lamentable lay,So sensibly compyld, that in the sameHim 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,vWithouten dread of perill to repaireVnto his wonne, and with her mournefull museHim 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 wrongCompanion she became, and so continued long.Vpon a day as she him sate beside,viBy chance he certaine miniments forth drew,Which yet with him as relickes[138]did abideOf all the bounty, whichBelphebethrewOn 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,viiIn which his Ladies colours were, did bindAbout the turtles necke, that with the vewDid greatly solace his engrieued mind.All vnawares the bird, when she did findHer 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,viiiYet 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 rightThrough the wide region of the wastfull aire,Vntill she came where wonned hisBelphebefaire.There found she her (as then it did betide)ixSitting in couert shade of arbors sweet,After late weary toile, which she had trideIn 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 weetThe great tormenting griefe, that for her sakeHer gentle Squire through her displeasure did pertake[139].She her beholding with attentiue eye,xAt length did marke about her purple brestThat precious iuell, which she formerlyHad knowne right well with colourd ribbands[140]drest:Therewith she rose in hast, and her addrestWith 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 DouexiWould 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,xiiAnd 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,xiiiAnd kist the ground on which her sole did tread,And washt the same with water, which did wellFrom his moist eies, and like two streames procead,Yet spake no word, whereby she might areadWhat 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,xivBut wondred much at his so selcouth case,And by his persons secret seemlyhedWell 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,xvSith to his powre we all are subiect borne:If wrathfull wight, then fowle rebuke and shameBe theirs, that haue so cruell thee forlorne;But if through inward griefe or wilfull scorneOf 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 brakexviHis 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,xviiHath done this wrong, to wreake on worthlesse wightYour 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 mateWith 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 leadxviiiAn happie life with grace and good accord,Fearlesse of fortunes chaunge or enuies dread,And eke all mindlesse of his owne deare LordThe noble Prince, who neuer heard one wordOf 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,xixHe chaunst to come where those two Ladies late,ÆmyliaandAmoretabode,Both in full sad and sorrowfull estate;The one right feeble through the euill rateOf food, which in her duresse she had found:The other almost dead and desperateThrough 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 rewxxThe euill case in which those Ladies lay;But most was moued at the piteous vewOfAmoret, 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 dewHer wounds, that vnto strength restor’d her soone anew.Tho when they both recouered were right well,xxiHe gan of them inquire, what euill guideThem thether[144]brought, and how their harmes befell.To whom they told all, that did them betide,And how from thraldome vile they were vntideOf 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 desirexxiiTo 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 mindHe 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,xxiiiA 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,xxivAnd in conditions to be loath’d no lesse:For she was stuft with rancour and despightVp to the throat, that oft with bitternesseIt forth would breake, and gush in great excesse,Pouring out streames of poyson and of gallGainst all, that truth or vertue doe professe,Whom she with leasings lewdly did miscall,And wickedly backbite: Her name menSclaundercall.Her nature is all goodnesse to abuse,xxvAnd 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 DameSo chast and loyall liu’d, but she would striueWith 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,xxviT’expresse the meaning of the inward mind,But noysome breath, and poysnous spirit sentFrom 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,xxviiWhom 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 careAgainst all hard mishaps and fortunelesse misfare.Then all that euening welcommed with cold,xxviiiAnd chearelesse hunger, they together spent;Yet found no fault, but that the Hag did scoldAnd 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 redxxixWith 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 rareAnd hard to finde, that heat of youthfull sprightFor ought will from his greedie pleasure spare,More hard for hungry steed t’abstaine from pleasant lare.But antique age yet in the infanciexxxOf 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,xxxiAnd 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 trideThe traines of wit, in wickednesse woxe bold,And dared of all sinnes the secrets to vnfold.Then beautie, which was made to representxxxiiThe 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,xxxiiiThat 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 facexxxivTo sinfull men with darknes ouerdight,This gentle crew gan from their eye-lids chaceThe 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,xxxvThat shamefull Hag, the slaunder of her sexe,Them follow’d fast, and them reuiled sore,Him calling theefe, them whores; that much did vexeHis noble hart; thereto she did annexeFalse 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,xxxviYet 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 teareThe 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,xxxviiWith easie steps so soft as foot could stryde,Both for great feeblesse, which did oft assayFaireAmoret, that scarcely she could ryde,And eke through heauie armes, which sore annoydThe 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 speedxxxviiiA 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,xxxixMore sharpe then points of needles did proceede,Shooting forth farre away two flaming streames,Full of sad powre, that poysonous bale did breedeTo 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 conuayInto the lookers hart, and killeth farre away.He all the way did rage at that same Squire,xlAnd 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 xliFrom loftie steede, and mounting in their steadCame 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,xliiThe burden of the deadly brunt did beareVpon his shield, which lightly he did throwOuer his head, before the harme came neare.Nathlesse it fell with so despiteous dreareAnd heauie sway, that hard vnto his crowneThe shield it droue, and did the couering reare,Therewith both Squire and dwarfe did tomble downeVnto the earth, and lay long while in senselesse swowne.Whereat the Prince full wrath, his strong right handxliiiIn full auengement heaued vp on hie,And stroke the Pagan with his steely brandSo sore, that to his saddle bow therebyHe bowed low, and so a while did lie:And sure had not his massie yron maceBetwixt 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,xlivAll full of rage he gan to curse and sweare,And vow byMahounethat 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,xlvTo ward his bodie from the balefull stound,He smote at him with all his might and maine,So furiously, that ere he wist, he foundHis head before him tombling on the ground.The whiles his babling tongue did yet blasphemeAnd 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 gladxlviTo 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 inquireOf 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,xlviiOf an huge Geauntesse whylome was bred;And by his strength rule to himselfe did gaineOf 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,xlviiiBut 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 broughtVnto his bay, and captiued her thought.For most of strength and beautie his desireWas spoyle to make, and wast them vnto nought,By casting secret flakes of lustfull fireFrom his false eyes, into their harts and parts entire.ThereforeCorflambowas he cald aright,xlixThough namelesse there his bodie now doth lie,Yet hath he left one daughter that is hightThe fairePœana; who seemes outwardlySo 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,lThat lou’d a Ladie of high parentage,But for his meane degree might not aspireTo 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,liTo which when he according did repaire,An hard mishap and disauentrous caseHim chaunst; in stead of hisÆmyliafaireThis Gyants sonne, that lies there on the laireAn 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 dayliiVnto the prison in her ioyous glee,To view the thrals, which there in bondage lay:Amongst the rest she chaunced there to seeThis 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,liiiTo 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 coldTo 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,livAboue the rest, that he sometimes may spaceAnd 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 doreBy 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,lvFull inly sorie for the feruent zeale,Which I to him as to my soule did beare;I thether went where I did long concealeMy selfe, till that the Dwarfe did me reueale,And told his Dame, her Squire of low degreeDid 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,lviWho 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 frendlviiIn 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 distresseWas mine and hisÆmyliaslibertie.Æmyliawell 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,lviiiAnd shew’d him how through error and mis-thoughtOf our like persons eath to be disguiz’d,Or his exchange, or freedome might be wrought.Whereto full loth was he, ne would for oughtConsent, 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,lixThe Dwarfe cald at the doore ofAmyas,To come forthwith vnto his Ladies bowre.In steed of whom forth came IPlacidas,And vndiscerned, forth with him did pas.There with great ioyance and with gladsome glee,Of fairePœanaI 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,lxAs 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,lxiThat 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 margeOf 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 crylxiiThe Tyrant selfe came forth with yelling bray,And me pursew’d; but nathemore would IForgoe the purchase of my gotten pray,But haue perforce him hether[149]brought away.Thus as they talked, loe where nigh at handThose Ladies two yet doubtfull through dismayIn presence came, desirous t’vnderstandTydings of all, which there had hapned on the land.Where soone as sadÆmyliadid espielxiiiHer captiue louers friend, youngPlacidas;All mindlesse of her wonted modestie,She to him ran, and him with streight embrasEnfolding said, And[150]liues yetAmyas?He liues (quoth he) and hisÆmylialoues.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,lxivAnd 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.

Well said the wiseman, now prou’d true by this,iWhich to this gentle Squire did happen late,That the displeasure of the mighty isThen death it selfe more dread[134]and desperate.For naught the same may calme ne mitigate,Till time the tempest doe thereof delayWith sufferaunce soft, which rigour can abate,And haue the sterne remembrance wypt awayOf bitter thoughts, which deepe therein infixed lay.Like as it fell to this vnhappy boy,iiWhose tender heart the faireBelphebehad[135]With one sterne looke so daunted, that no ioyIn all his life, which afterwards he lad,He euer tasted, but with penaunce sadAnd 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 wiseiiiHis doole he made, there chaunst a turtle DoueTo 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 heartWith 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,ivHer mournefull notes full piteously did frame,And thereof made a lamentable lay,So sensibly compyld, that in the sameHim 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,vWithouten dread of perill to repaireVnto his wonne, and with her mournefull museHim 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 wrongCompanion she became, and so continued long.Vpon a day as she him sate beside,viBy chance he certaine miniments forth drew,Which yet with him as relickes[138]did abideOf all the bounty, whichBelphebethrewOn 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,viiIn which his Ladies colours were, did bindAbout the turtles necke, that with the vewDid greatly solace his engrieued mind.All vnawares the bird, when she did findHer 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,viiiYet 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 rightThrough the wide region of the wastfull aire,Vntill she came where wonned hisBelphebefaire.There found she her (as then it did betide)ixSitting in couert shade of arbors sweet,After late weary toile, which she had trideIn 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 weetThe great tormenting griefe, that for her sakeHer gentle Squire through her displeasure did pertake[139].She her beholding with attentiue eye,xAt length did marke about her purple brestThat precious iuell, which she formerlyHad knowne right well with colourd ribbands[140]drest:Therewith she rose in hast, and her addrestWith 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 DouexiWould 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,xiiAnd 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,xiiiAnd kist the ground on which her sole did tread,And washt the same with water, which did wellFrom his moist eies, and like two streames procead,Yet spake no word, whereby she might areadWhat 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,xivBut wondred much at his so selcouth case,And by his persons secret seemlyhedWell 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,xvSith to his powre we all are subiect borne:If wrathfull wight, then fowle rebuke and shameBe theirs, that haue so cruell thee forlorne;But if through inward griefe or wilfull scorneOf 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 brakexviHis 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,xviiHath done this wrong, to wreake on worthlesse wightYour 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 mateWith 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 leadxviiiAn happie life with grace and good accord,Fearlesse of fortunes chaunge or enuies dread,And eke all mindlesse of his owne deare LordThe noble Prince, who neuer heard one wordOf 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,xixHe chaunst to come where those two Ladies late,ÆmyliaandAmoretabode,Both in full sad and sorrowfull estate;The one right feeble through the euill rateOf food, which in her duresse she had found:The other almost dead and desperateThrough 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 rewxxThe euill case in which those Ladies lay;But most was moued at the piteous vewOfAmoret, 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 dewHer wounds, that vnto strength restor’d her soone anew.Tho when they both recouered were right well,xxiHe gan of them inquire, what euill guideThem thether[144]brought, and how their harmes befell.To whom they told all, that did them betide,And how from thraldome vile they were vntideOf 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 desirexxiiTo 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 mindHe 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,xxiiiA 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,xxivAnd in conditions to be loath’d no lesse:For she was stuft with rancour and despightVp to the throat, that oft with bitternesseIt forth would breake, and gush in great excesse,Pouring out streames of poyson and of gallGainst all, that truth or vertue doe professe,Whom she with leasings lewdly did miscall,And wickedly backbite: Her name menSclaundercall.Her nature is all goodnesse to abuse,xxvAnd 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 DameSo chast and loyall liu’d, but she would striueWith 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,xxviT’expresse the meaning of the inward mind,But noysome breath, and poysnous spirit sentFrom 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,xxviiWhom 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 careAgainst all hard mishaps and fortunelesse misfare.Then all that euening welcommed with cold,xxviiiAnd chearelesse hunger, they together spent;Yet found no fault, but that the Hag did scoldAnd 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 redxxixWith 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 rareAnd hard to finde, that heat of youthfull sprightFor ought will from his greedie pleasure spare,More hard for hungry steed t’abstaine from pleasant lare.But antique age yet in the infanciexxxOf 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,xxxiAnd 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 trideThe traines of wit, in wickednesse woxe bold,And dared of all sinnes the secrets to vnfold.Then beautie, which was made to representxxxiiThe 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,xxxiiiThat 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 facexxxivTo sinfull men with darknes ouerdight,This gentle crew gan from their eye-lids chaceThe 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,xxxvThat shamefull Hag, the slaunder of her sexe,Them follow’d fast, and them reuiled sore,Him calling theefe, them whores; that much did vexeHis noble hart; thereto she did annexeFalse 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,xxxviYet 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 teareThe 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,xxxviiWith easie steps so soft as foot could stryde,Both for great feeblesse, which did oft assayFaireAmoret, that scarcely she could ryde,And eke through heauie armes, which sore annoydThe 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 speedxxxviiiA 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,xxxixMore sharpe then points of needles did proceede,Shooting forth farre away two flaming streames,Full of sad powre, that poysonous bale did breedeTo 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 conuayInto the lookers hart, and killeth farre away.He all the way did rage at that same Squire,xlAnd 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 xliFrom loftie steede, and mounting in their steadCame 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,xliiThe burden of the deadly brunt did beareVpon his shield, which lightly he did throwOuer his head, before the harme came neare.Nathlesse it fell with so despiteous dreareAnd heauie sway, that hard vnto his crowneThe shield it droue, and did the couering reare,Therewith both Squire and dwarfe did tomble downeVnto the earth, and lay long while in senselesse swowne.Whereat the Prince full wrath, his strong right handxliiiIn full auengement heaued vp on hie,And stroke the Pagan with his steely brandSo sore, that to his saddle bow therebyHe bowed low, and so a while did lie:And sure had not his massie yron maceBetwixt 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,xlivAll full of rage he gan to curse and sweare,And vow byMahounethat 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,xlvTo ward his bodie from the balefull stound,He smote at him with all his might and maine,So furiously, that ere he wist, he foundHis head before him tombling on the ground.The whiles his babling tongue did yet blasphemeAnd 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 gladxlviTo 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 inquireOf 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,xlviiOf an huge Geauntesse whylome was bred;And by his strength rule to himselfe did gaineOf 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,xlviiiBut 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 broughtVnto his bay, and captiued her thought.For most of strength and beautie his desireWas spoyle to make, and wast them vnto nought,By casting secret flakes of lustfull fireFrom his false eyes, into their harts and parts entire.ThereforeCorflambowas he cald aright,xlixThough namelesse there his bodie now doth lie,Yet hath he left one daughter that is hightThe fairePœana; who seemes outwardlySo 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,lThat lou’d a Ladie of high parentage,But for his meane degree might not aspireTo 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,liTo which when he according did repaire,An hard mishap and disauentrous caseHim chaunst; in stead of hisÆmyliafaireThis Gyants sonne, that lies there on the laireAn 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 dayliiVnto the prison in her ioyous glee,To view the thrals, which there in bondage lay:Amongst the rest she chaunced there to seeThis 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,liiiTo 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 coldTo 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,livAboue the rest, that he sometimes may spaceAnd 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 doreBy 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,lvFull inly sorie for the feruent zeale,Which I to him as to my soule did beare;I thether went where I did long concealeMy selfe, till that the Dwarfe did me reueale,And told his Dame, her Squire of low degreeDid 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,lviWho 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 frendlviiIn 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 distresseWas mine and hisÆmyliaslibertie.Æmyliawell 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,lviiiAnd shew’d him how through error and mis-thoughtOf our like persons eath to be disguiz’d,Or his exchange, or freedome might be wrought.Whereto full loth was he, ne would for oughtConsent, 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,lixThe Dwarfe cald at the doore ofAmyas,To come forthwith vnto his Ladies bowre.In steed of whom forth came IPlacidas,And vndiscerned, forth with him did pas.There with great ioyance and with gladsome glee,Of fairePœanaI 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,lxAs 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,lxiThat 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 margeOf 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 crylxiiThe Tyrant selfe came forth with yelling bray,And me pursew’d; but nathemore would IForgoe the purchase of my gotten pray,But haue perforce him hether[149]brought away.Thus as they talked, loe where nigh at handThose Ladies two yet doubtfull through dismayIn presence came, desirous t’vnderstandTydings of all, which there had hapned on the land.Where soone as sadÆmyliadid espielxiiiHer captiue louers friend, youngPlacidas;All mindlesse of her wonted modestie,She to him ran, and him with streight embrasEnfolding said, And[150]liues yetAmyas?He liues (quoth he) and hisÆmylialoues.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,lxivAnd 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.

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

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,iiWhose tender heart the faireBelphebehad[135]With one sterne looke so daunted, that no ioyIn all his life, which afterwards he lad,He euer tasted, but with penaunce sadAnd 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]

Like as it fell to this vnhappy boy,ii

Whose tender heart the faireBelphebehad[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 wiseiiiHis doole he made, there chaunst a turtle DoueTo 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 heartWith deare compassion deeply did emmoue,That she gan mone his vndeserued smart,And with her dolefull accent beare with him a part.

Till on a day, as in his wonted wiseiii

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,ivHer mournefull notes full piteously did frame,And thereof made a lamentable lay,So sensibly compyld, that in the sameHim 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.

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,vWithouten dread of perill to repaireVnto his wonne, and with her mournefull museHim 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 wrongCompanion she became, and so continued long.

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,viBy chance he certaine miniments forth drew,Which yet with him as relickes[138]did abideOf all the bounty, whichBelphebethrewOn 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.

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, whichBelphebethrew

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,viiIn which his Ladies colours were, did bindAbout the turtles necke, that with the vewDid greatly solace his engrieued mind.All vnawares the bird, when she did findHer 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.

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,viiiYet 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 rightThrough the wide region of the wastfull aire,Vntill she came where wonned hisBelphebefaire.

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 hisBelphebefaire.

There found she her (as then it did betide)ixSitting in couert shade of arbors sweet,After late weary toile, which she had trideIn 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 weetThe great tormenting griefe, that for her sakeHer gentle Squire through her displeasure did pertake[139].

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,xAt length did marke about her purple brestThat precious iuell, which she formerlyHad knowne right well with colourd ribbands[140]drest:Therewith she rose in hast, and her addrestWith 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.

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 DouexiWould 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.

And euer when she nigh approcht, the Douexi

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,xiiAnd 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.

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,xiiiAnd kist the ground on which her sole did tread,And washt the same with water, which did wellFrom his moist eies, and like two streames procead,Yet spake no word, whereby she might areadWhat 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.

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,xivBut wondred much at his so selcouth case,And by his persons secret seemlyhedWell 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?

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,xvSith to his powre we all are subiect borne:If wrathfull wight, then fowle rebuke and shameBe theirs, that haue so cruell thee forlorne;But if through inward griefe or wilfull scorneOf 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.

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 brakexviHis 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.

When so he heard her say, eftsoones he brakexvi

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,xviiHath done this wrong, to wreake on worthlesse wightYour 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 mateWith mild regard, to see his ruefull plight,That her inburning wrath she gan abate,And him receiu’d againe to former fauours state.

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 leadxviiiAn happie life with grace and good accord,Fearlesse of fortunes chaunge or enuies dread,And eke all mindlesse of his owne deare LordThe noble Prince, who neuer heard one wordOf 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.

In which he long time afterwards did leadxviii

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,xixHe chaunst to come where those two Ladies late,ÆmyliaandAmoretabode,Both in full sad and sorrowfull estate;The one right feeble through the euill rateOf food, which in her duresse she had found:The other almost dead and desperateThrough her late hurts, and through that haplesse wound,With which the Squire in her defence her sore astound.

Till on a day as through that wood he rode,xix

He chaunst to come where those two Ladies late,

ÆmyliaandAmoretabode,

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 rewxxThe euill case in which those Ladies lay;But most was moued at the piteous vewOfAmoret, 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 dewHer wounds, that vnto strength restor’d her soone anew.

Whom when the Prince beheld, he gan to rewxx

The euill case in which those Ladies lay;

But most was moued at the piteous vew

OfAmoret, 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,xxiHe gan of them inquire, what euill guideThem thether[144]brought, and how their harmes befell.To whom they told all, that did them betide,And how from thraldome vile they were vntideOf 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.

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 desirexxiiTo 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 mindHe 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.

And euermore he greatly did desirexxii

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,xxiiiA 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.

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,xxivAnd in conditions to be loath’d no lesse:For she was stuft with rancour and despightVp to the throat, that oft with bitternesseIt forth would breake, and gush in great excesse,Pouring out streames of poyson and of gallGainst all, that truth or vertue doe professe,Whom she with leasings lewdly did miscall,And wickedly backbite: Her name menSclaundercall.

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 menSclaundercall.

Her nature is all goodnesse to abuse,xxvAnd 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 DameSo chast and loyall liu’d, but she would striueWith 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 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,xxviT’expresse the meaning of the inward mind,But noysome breath, and poysnous spirit sentFrom 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.

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,xxviiWhom 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 careAgainst all hard mishaps and fortunelesse misfare.

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,xxviiiAnd chearelesse hunger, they together spent;Yet found no fault, but that the Hag did scoldAnd 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.

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 redxxixWith 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 rareAnd hard to finde, that heat of youthfull sprightFor ought will from his greedie pleasure spare,More hard for hungry steed t’abstaine from pleasant lare.

Here well I weene, when as these rimes be redxxix

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 infanciexxxOf 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.

But antique age yet in the infanciexxx

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,xxxiAnd 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 trideThe traines of wit, in wickednesse woxe bold,And dared of all sinnes the secrets to vnfold.

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 representxxxiiThe 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.

Then beautie, which was made to representxxxii

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,xxxiiiThat 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.

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 facexxxivTo sinfull men with darknes ouerdight,This gentle crew gan from their eye-lids chaceThe 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.

Tho soone as day discouered heauens facexxxiv

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,xxxvThat shamefull Hag, the slaunder of her sexe,Them follow’d fast, and them reuiled sore,Him calling theefe, them whores; that much did vexeHis noble hart; thereto she did annexeFalse 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.

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,xxxviYet 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 teareThe 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.

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,xxxviiWith easie steps so soft as foot could stryde,Both for great feeblesse, which did oft assayFaireAmoret, that scarcely she could ryde,And eke through heauie armes, which sore annoydThe 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.

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

FaireAmoret, 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 speedxxxviiiA 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.

At length they spide, where towards them with speedxxxviii

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,xxxixMore sharpe then points of needles did proceede,Shooting forth farre away two flaming streames,Full of sad powre, that poysonous bale did breedeTo 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 conuayInto the lookers hart, and killeth farre away.

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,xlAnd 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.

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 xliFrom loftie steede, and mounting in their steadCame 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.

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,xliiThe burden of the deadly brunt did beareVpon his shield, which lightly he did throwOuer his head, before the harme came neare.Nathlesse it fell with so despiteous dreareAnd heauie sway, that hard vnto his crowneThe shield it droue, and did the couering reare,Therewith both Squire and dwarfe did tomble downeVnto the earth, and lay long while in senselesse swowne.

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 handxliiiIn full auengement heaued vp on hie,And stroke the Pagan with his steely brandSo sore, that to his saddle bow therebyHe bowed low, and so a while did lie:And sure had not his massie yron maceBetwixt 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.

Whereat the Prince full wrath, his strong right handxliii

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,xlivAll full of rage he gan to curse and sweare,And vow byMahounethat 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 when he to himselfe returnd againe,xliv

All full of rage he gan to curse and sweare,

And vow byMahounethat 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,xlvTo ward his bodie from the balefull stound,He smote at him with all his might and maine,So furiously, that ere he wist, he foundHis head before him tombling on the ground.The whiles his babling tongue did yet blasphemeAnd 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.

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 gladxlviTo 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 inquireOf 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.

Which when that Squire beheld, he woxe full gladxlvi

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,xlviiOf an huge Geauntesse whylome was bred;And by his strength rule to himselfe did gaineOf 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.

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,xlviiiBut 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 broughtVnto his bay, and captiued her thought.For most of strength and beautie his desireWas spoyle to make, and wast them vnto nought,By casting secret flakes of lustfull fireFrom his false eyes, into their harts and parts entire.

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.

ThereforeCorflambowas he cald aright,xlixThough namelesse there his bodie now doth lie,Yet hath he left one daughter that is hightThe fairePœana; who seemes outwardlySo 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.

ThereforeCorflambowas he cald aright,xlix

Though namelesse there his bodie now doth lie,

Yet hath he left one daughter that is hight

The fairePœana; 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,lThat lou’d a Ladie of high parentage,But for his meane degree might not aspireTo 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 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,liTo which when he according did repaire,An hard mishap and disauentrous caseHim chaunst; in stead of hisÆmyliafaireThis Gyants sonne, that lies there on the laireAn 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.

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 hisÆmyliafaire

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 dayliiVnto the prison in her ioyous glee,To view the thrals, which there in bondage lay:Amongst the rest she chaunced there to seeThis 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.

This Gyants daughter came vpon a daylii

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,liiiTo 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 coldTo 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.

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,livAboue the rest, that he sometimes may spaceAnd 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 doreBy her committed be, of speciall grace,And at his will may whom he list restore,And whom he list reserue, to be afflicted more.

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,lvFull inly sorie for the feruent zeale,Which I to him as to my soule did beare;I thether went where I did long concealeMy selfe, till that the Dwarfe did me reueale,And told his Dame, her Squire of low degreeDid secretly out of her prison steale;For me he did mistake that Squire to bee;For neuer two so like did liuing creature see.

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,lviWho 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.

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 frendlviiIn 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 distresseWas mine and hisÆmyliaslibertie.Æmyliawell he lou’d, as I mote ghesse;Yet greater loue to me then her he did professe.

There did I finde mine onely faithfull frendlvii

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 hisÆmyliaslibertie.

Æmyliawell 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,lviiiAnd shew’d him how through error and mis-thoughtOf our like persons eath to be disguiz’d,Or his exchange, or freedome might be wrought.Whereto full loth was he, ne would for oughtConsent, 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.

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,lixThe Dwarfe cald at the doore ofAmyas,To come forthwith vnto his Ladies bowre.In steed of whom forth came IPlacidas,And vndiscerned, forth with him did pas.There with great ioyance and with gladsome glee,Of fairePœanaI receiued was,And oft imbrast, as if that I were hee,And with kind words accoyd, vowing great loue to mee.

The morrow next about the wonted howre,lix

The Dwarfe cald at the doore ofAmyas,

To come forthwith vnto his Ladies bowre.

In steed of whom forth came IPlacidas,

And vndiscerned, forth with him did pas.

There with great ioyance and with gladsome glee,

Of fairePœanaI 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,lxAs 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.

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,lxiThat 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 margeOf 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.

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 crylxiiThe Tyrant selfe came forth with yelling bray,And me pursew’d; but nathemore would IForgoe the purchase of my gotten pray,But haue perforce him hether[149]brought away.Thus as they talked, loe where nigh at handThose Ladies two yet doubtfull through dismayIn presence came, desirous t’vnderstandTydings of all, which there had hapned on the land.

Thereat he shriekt aloud, that with his crylxii

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 sadÆmyliadid espielxiiiHer captiue louers friend, youngPlacidas;All mindlesse of her wonted modestie,She to him ran, and him with streight embrasEnfolding said, And[150]liues yetAmyas?He liues (quoth he) and hisÆmylialoues.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?

Where soone as sadÆmyliadid espielxiii

Her captiue louers friend, youngPlacidas;

All mindlesse of her wonted modestie,

She to him ran, and him with streight embras

Enfolding said, And[150]liues yetAmyas?

He liues (quoth he) and hisÆmylialoues.

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,lxivAnd 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.

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.


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