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Bespredd with costly scarlott of great For never living man, I weene, so sore name,
In sea of deadly daungers was distrest; On which they lowly sitt, and fitting pur But since now safe ye seised have the shore, pose frame.
And well arrived are, (High God be blest!)
Let us devize of ease and everlasting rest.' What needes me tell their feast and goodly
* Ah ! dearest lord,' said then that doughty In which was nothing riotous nor vaine ?
knight, What needes of dainty dishes to devize, Of ease or rest I may not yet devize; Of comely services, or courtly trayne ? For by the faith which I to armes have My narrow leaves cannot in them contayne
plight, The large discourse of roiall princes state. I bownden am streight after this emprize, Yet was their manner then but bare and As that your daughter can ye well ad vize, playne:
Backe to retourne to that great Faery For th' antique world excesse and pryde
Queene, did hate;
And her to serve sixe yeares in warlike wize, Such proud luxurious pompe is swollen up Gainst that proud Paynim King that works but late.
her teene: Therefore I ought crave pardon, till I there
have beene.' Then, when with meates and drinkes of
every kinde Their fervent appetites they quenched had, Unhappy falls that hard necessity,' That auncient lord gan fit occasion finde, Quoth he, the troubler of my happy peace, Of straunge adventures, and of perils sad, And vowed foe of my felicity; Which in his travell him befallen had, Ne I against the same can justly preace: For to demaund of his renowmed guest: But since that band ye cannot now release, Who then with utt'rance grave, and coun Nor doen undoe, (for vowes may not be t'nance sad,
vayne) From poynt to poynt, as is before exprest, Soone as the terme of those six yeares shall Discourst his voyage long, according his re
Ye then shall hether backe retourne agayne,
you twayn. Great pleasure, mixt with pittifull regard,
XX That godly king and queene did passion
• Which, for my part, I covet to performe, Whyles they his pittifull adventures heard, | In sort as through the world I did proThat oft they did lament his lucklesse
That who so kild that monster most deAnd often blame the too importune fate,
forme, That heapd on him so many wrathfull And him in hardy battayle overcame, wreakes;
Should have mine onely daughter to his For never gentle knight, as he of late,
dame, So tossed was in Fortunes cruell freakes; And of my kingdome heyre apparaunt bee: And all the while salt teares bedeawd the Therefore since now to thee perteynes the hearers cheaks.
By dew desert of noble chevalree,
Both daughter and eke kingdome, lo! I Then sayd the royall pere in sober wise:
yield to thee.' • Deare sonne, great beene the evils which ye bore
XXI From first to last in your late enterprise, Then forth he called that his daughter fayre, That I note whether praise or pitty more: The fairest Un', his onely daughter deare,
His onely daughter and his only hayre; Came running in, much like a man dismayd, Who forth proceeding with sad sober A messenger with letters, which his message cheare,
sayd. As bright as doth the morning starre ap
peare Out of the east, with flaming lockes be All in the open hall amazed stood . dight,
At suddeinnesse of that unwary sight, To tell that dawning day is drawing neare, And wondred at his breathlesse hasty mood. And to the world does bring long wished But he for nought would stay his passage light;
right, . So faire and fresh that lady shewd her selfe Till fast before the king he did alight; in sight:
Where falling flat, great humblesse he did
And kist the ground whereon his foot was So faire and fresh, as freshest flowre in
Then to his handes that writt he did betake, For she had layd her mournefull stole Which he disclosing, read thus, as the paper aside,
spake: And widow-like sad wimple throwne away, Wherewith her heavenly beautie she did
• To thee, most mighty king of Eden fayre, Whiles on her wearie journey she did ride; Her greeting sends in these sad lines adAnd on her now a garment she did weare
drest All lilly white, withoutten spot or pride, The wofull daughter and forsaken heyre That seemd like silke and silver woven Of that great Emperour of all the West; neare,
And bids thee be advized for the best, But neither silke nor silver therein did Ere thou thy daughter linck in holy band appeare.
Of wedlocke to that new unknowen guest:
For he already plighted his right hand XXIII
Unto another love, and to another land. The blazing brightnesse of her beauties beame,
XXVII And glorious light of her sunshyny face, To me, sad mayd, or rather widow sad, To tell, were as to strive against the He was affyaunced long time before, streame:
And sacred pledges he both gave, and had, My ragged rimes are all too rude and bace, False erraunt knight, infamous, and forHer heavenly lineaments for to enchace.
swore ! Ne wonder; for her own deare loved knight, Witnesse the burning altars, which he swore, All were she daily with himselfe in place, And guilty heavens of his bold perjury, Did wonder much at her celestiall sight: Which though he hath polluted oft of yore, Oft had he seene her faire, but never so Yet I to them for judgement just doe fly, faire dight.
And them conjure t'avenge this shamefull
injury. XXIV So fairely dight, when she in presence came,
XXVIII She to her syre made humble reverence, • Therefore since mine he is, or free or bond, And bowed low, that her right well be Or false or trew, or living or else dead, came,
Withhold, O soverayne prince, your hasty And added grace unto her excellence:
hond Who with great wisedome and grave elo From knitting league with him, I you aread; quence
Ne weene my right with strength adowne Thus gan to say — But eare he thus had to tread,
Through weakenesse of my widowhed or woe: With flying speede, and seeming great | For Truth is strong, her rightfull cause to pretence,
And shall finde friends, if need requireth
•There did I find, or rather I was fownd So bids thee well to fare, thy neither friend Of this false woman, that Fidessa hight; nor foe,
FIDESSA.' Fidessa hight the falsest dame on grownd,
Most false Duessa, royall richly dight, xxix
That easy was t'inveigle weaker sight: When he these bitter byting wordes had Who by her wicked arts and wiely skill, red,
Too false and strong for earthly skill or The tydings straunge did him abashed might, make,
Unwares me wrought unto her wicked will, That still he sate long time astonished, And to my foe betrayd, when least I feared As in great muse, ne word to creature
ill. spake. At last his solemne silence thus he brake,
XXXIII With doubtfull eyes fast fixed on his Then stepped forth the goodly royall mayd, guest:
And on the ground her selfe prostrating low, * Redoubted knight, that for myne only With sober countenaunce thus to him sayd: sake
O pardon me, my soveraine lord, to sheow Thy life and honor late adventurest, The secret treasons, which of late I know Let nought be hid from me, that ought to To have bene wrought by that false sorbe exprest.
ceresse. Shee, onely she, it is, that earst did throw
This gentle knight into so great distresse, What meane these bloody vowes and idle | That death him did awaite in daily wretchthreats,
ednesse. Throwne out from womanish impatient mynd ?
XXXIV What bevens ? what altars ? what enraged And now it seemes, that she suborned hath heates,
This crafty messenger with letters vaine, Here heaped up with termes of love un- To worke new woe and improvided scath, kynd,
By breaking of the band betwixt us twaine; My conscience cleare with guilty bands Wherein she used hath the practicke paine would bynd ?
Of this false footman, clokt with simpleHigh God be witnesse, that I guiltlesse
Whome if ye please for to discover plaine, But if your selfe, sir knight, ye faulty fynd, Ye shall him Archimago find, I ghesse, Or wrapped be in loves of former dame, The falsest man alive; who tries, shall With cryme doe not it cover, but disclose
find no lesse.'
The king was greatly moved at her speach, To whom the Redcrosse Knight this answere And, all with suddein indignation fraight, sent:
Bad on that messenger rude hands to My lord, my king, be nought hereat dismayd,
Eftsoones the gard, which on his state did Till well ye wote by grave intendiment,
wait, What woman, and wherefore, doth me up Attacht that faytor false, and bound him brayd
strait: With breach of love and loialty betrayd. | Who, seeming sorely chauffed at his band, It was in my mishaps, as hitherward
As chained beare, whom cruell dogs doe I lately traveild, that unwares I strayd
bait, Out of my way, through perils straunge | With ydle force did faine them to withand hard;
stand, That day should faile me ere I had them | And often semblaunce made to scape out of all declard.
Like as it had bene many an angels voice But they him layd full low in dungeon Singing before th' Eternall Majesty, deepe,
In their trinall triplicities on hye; And bound him hand and foote with yron Yett wist no creature, whence that hevenly chains,
sweet And with continual watch did warely keepe: Proceeded, yet each one felt secretly, Who then would thinke, that by his subtile Himselfe thereby refte of his sences trains
meet, He could escape fowle death or deadly And ravished with rare impression in his pains ?
sprite. Thus when that princes wrath was pacifide, He gan renew the late forbidden bains, And to the knight his daughter deare he Great joy was made that day of young and tyde,
old, With sacred rites and vowes for ever to And solemne feast proclaymd throughout abyde.
That their exceeding merth may not be XXXVII
told: His owne two hands the holy knotts did Suffice it heare by signes to understand knitt,
The usuall joyes at knitting of loves band. That none but death for ever can divide; Thrise happy man the knight himselfe did His owne two bands, for such a turne most
Possessed of his ladies hart and hand, The housling fire did kindle and provide, And ever, when his eie did her behold, And holy water thereon sprinckled wide; | His heart did seeme to melt in pleasures At which the bushy teade a groome did
manifold. light, And sacred lamp in secret chamber hide, Where it should not be quenched day nor Her joyous presence and sweet company night,
In full content he there did long enjoy, For feare of evill fates, but burnen ever Ne wicked envy, ne vile gealosy, bright.
His deare delights were hable to annoy:
Yet, swimming in that sea of blisfull joy, XXXVIII
He nought forgott, how he whilome had Then gan they sprinckle all the posts with
In case he could that monstrous beast deAnd made great feast to solemnize that day:
Unto his Faery Queene backe to retourne: They all perfumde with frankincense divine, The which he shortly did, and Una left to And precious odours fetcht from far away,
mourne. That all the house did sweat with great aray:
XLII And all the while sweete musicke did Now strike your sailes, yee jolly mari
apply Her curious skill, the warbling notes to For we be come unto a quiet rode,
Where we must land some of our passenTo drive away the dull melancholy;
gers, The whiles one sung a song of love and And light this weary vessell of her lode. jollity.
Here she a while may make her safe abode,
Till she repaired have her tackles spent, XXXIX
And wants supplide; and then againe During the which there was an heavenly
On the long voiage whereto she is bent: Heard sownd through all the pallace plea- | Well may she speede, and fairely finish her santly,
Bring with you all the nymphes that you
can heare, [Published 1595.)
Both of the rivers and the forrests greene, Ye learned sisters, which have oftentimes And of the sea that neighbours to her neare, Beene to me ayding, others to adorne, Al with gay girlands goodly wel beseene. 40 Whom ye thought worthy of your gracefull And let them also with them bring in hand rymes,
Another gay girland, That even the greatest did not greatly For my fayre love, of lillyes and of roses,
Bound truelove wize with a blew silke To heare theyr names sung in your simple riband. layes,
And let them make great store of bridale But joyed in theyr praise;
poses, And when ye list your owne mishaps to And let them eeke bring store of other mourne,
flowers, Which death, or love, or fortunes wreck | To deck the bridale bowers. did rayse,
And let the ground whereas ber foot shall Your string could soone to sadder tenor
For feare the stones her tender foot should And teach the woods and waters to lament
wrong, Your dolefull dreriment:
Be strewed with fragrant flowers all along, Now lay those sorrowfull complaints aside, And diapred lyke the discolored mead. 51 And having all your heads with girland Which done, doe at her chamber dore crownd,
awayt, Helpe me mine owne loves prayses to re For she will waken sträyt; sound;
The whiles doe ye this song unto her sing, Ne let the same of any be envide:
The woods shall to you answer, and your So Orpheus did for his owne bride:
eccho ring. So I unto my selfe alone will sing; The woods shall to me answer, and my | Ye nymphes of Mulla, which with carefull eccho ring.
The silver scaly trouts doe tend full well, Early, before the worlds light giving lampe And greedy pikes which use therein to feed, His golden beame upon the hils doth spred, (Those trouts and pikes all others doo exHaving, disperst the nights uncbearefull cell) dampe,
And ye likewise which keepe the rushy Doe ye awake, and, with fresh lustyhed,
60 Go to the bowre of my beloved love, Where none doo fishes take, My truest turtle dove:
Bynd up the locks the which hang scatterd Bid ber awake; for Hymen is awake,
light, And long since ready forth his maske to | And in bis waters, wbich your mirror make, move,
Behold your faces as the christall bright, With his bright tead that flames with many That when you come whereas my love doth
a flake, And many a bachelor to waite on him, No blemish she may spie. In theyr fresh garments trim.
And eke ye lightfoot mayds which keepe Bid her awake therefore, and soone her
the dere dight,
That on the hoary mountayne use to towre, For lo! the wished day is come at last, And the wylde wolves, which seeke them That shall, for al the paynes and sorrowes
to devoure, past,
With your steele darts doo chace from Pay to her usury of long delight:
comming neer, And whylest she doth her dight,
Be also present heere, Doe ye to her of joy and solace sing, To helpe to decke her, and to help to sing, That all the woods inay answer, and your | That all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring.