The Faerie Queene

  That maketh wretch or bappie, rich or poore:

  For some, that hath abundance at his will,

  Hath not enough, but wants in greatest store;

  And other, that hath litle, askes no more,

  But in that litle is both rich and wise.

  For wisedome is most riches; fooles therefore

  They are, which fortunes doe by vowes deuize,

  Sith each vnto himselfe his life may fortunize.

  31 Since then in each mans self (said Calidore)

  It is, to fashion his owne lyfes estate,

  Giue leaue awhyle, good father, in this shore

  To rest my barcke, which hath bene beaten late

  With stormes of fortune and tempestuous fate,

  In seas of troubles and of toylesome paine,

  That whether quite from them for to retrate

  I shall resolue, or backe to turne againe,

  I may here with your selfe some small repose obtaine.

  32 Not that the burden of so bold a guest

  Shall chargefull be, or chaunge to you at all;

  For your meane food shall be my daily feast,

  And this your cabin both my bowre and hall.

  Besides for recompence hereof, I shall

  You well reward, and golden guerdon giue,

  That may perhaps you better much withall,

  And in this quiet make you safer liue.

  So forth he drew much gold, and toward him it driue.

  33 But the good man, nought tempted with the offer

  Of his rich mould, did thrust it farre away,

  And thus bespake; Sir knight, your bounteous proffer

  Be farre fro me, to whom ye ill display

  That mucky masse, the cause of mens decay,

  That mote empaire my peace with daungers dread.

  But if ye algates couet to assay

  This simple sort of life, that shepheards lead,

  Be it your owne: our rudenesse to your selfe aread.

  34 So there that night Sir Calidore did dwell,

  And long while after, whilest him list remaine,

  Dayly beholding the faire Pastorell,

  And feeding on the bayt of his owne bane.

  During which time he did her entertaine

  With all kind courtesies, he could inuent;

  And euery day, her companie to gaine,

  When to the field she went, he with her went:

  So for to quench his fire, he did it more augment.

  35 But she that neuer had acquainted beene

  With such queint vsage, fit for Queenes and Kings,

  Ne euer had such knightly seruice seene,

  But being bred vnder base shepheards wings,

  Had euer learn’d to loue the lowly things,

  Did litle whit regard his courteous guize,

  But cared more for Colins carolings

  Then all that he could doe, or euer deuize:

  His layes, his loues, his lookes she did them all despize.

  36 Which Calidore perceiuing, thought it best

  To chaunge the manner of his loftie looke;

  And doffing his bright armes, himselfe addrest

  In shepheards weed, and in his hand he tooke,

  In stead of steelehead speare, a shepheards hooke,

  That who had seene him then, would haue bethought

  On Phrygian Paris by Plexippus brooke,

  When he the loue of fayre Oenone sought,

  What time the golden apple was vnto him brought.

  37 So being clad, vnto the fields he went

  With the faire Pastorella euery day,

  And kept her sheepe with diligent attent,

  Watching to driue the rauenous Wolfe away,

  The whylest at pleasure she mote sport and play;

  And euery euening helping them to fold:

  And otherwhiles for need, he did assay

  In his strong hand their rugged teats to hold,

  And out of them to presse the milke: loue so much could.

  38 Which seeing Coridon, who her likewise

  Long time had lou’d, and hop’d her loue to gaine,

  He much was troubled at that straungers guize,

  And many gealous thoughts conceiu’d in vaine,

  That this of all his labour and long paine

  Should reap the haruest, ere it ripened were,

  That made him scoule, and pout, and oft complaine

  Of Pastorell to all the shepheards there,

  That she did loue a stranger swayne then him more dere.

  39 And euer when he came in companie,

  Where Calidore was present, he would loure,

  And byte his lip, and euen for gealousie

  Was readie oft his owne hart to deuoure,

  Impatient of any paramoure:

  Who on the other side did seeme so farre

  From malicing, or grudging his good houre,

  That all he could, he graced him with her,

  Ne euer shewed signe of rancour or of iarre.

  40 And oft, when Coridon vnto her brought

  Or litle sparrowes, stolen from their nest,

  Or wanton squirrels, in the woods farre sought,

  Or other daintie thing for her addrest,

  He would commend his guift, and make the best.

  Yet she no whit his presents did regard,

  Ne him could find to fancie in her brest:

  This newcome shepheard had his market mard.

  Old loue is litle worth when new is more prefard.

  41 One day when as the shepheard swaynes together

  Were met, to make their sports and merrie glee,

  As they are wont in faire sunshynie weather,

  The whiles their flockes in shadowes shrouded bee,

  They fell to daunce: then did they all agree,

  That Colin Clout should pipe as one most fit;

  And Calidore should lead the ring, as hee

  That most in Pastorellaes grace did sit.

  Thereat frown’d Coridon, and his lip closely bit.

  42 But Calidore of courteous inclination

  Tooke Coridon, and set him in his place,

  That he should lead the daunce, as was his fashion;

  For Coridon could daunce, and trimly trace.

  And when as Pastorella, him to grace,

  Her flowry garlond tooke from her owne head,

  And plast on his, he did it soone displace,

  And did it put on Condons in stead:

  Then Coridon woxe frolticke, that earst seemed dead.

  43 Another time, when as they did dispose

  To practise games, and maisteries to try,

  They for their Iudge did Pastorella chose;

  A garland was the meed of victory.

  There Coridon forth stepping openly,

  Did chalenge Calidore to wrestling game:

  For he through long and perfect industry,

  Therein well practisd was, and in the same

  Thought sure t’auenge his grudge, & worke his foe great shame.

  44 But Calidore he greatly did mistake;

  For he was strong and mightily stifle pight,

  That with one fall his necke he almost brake,

  And had he not vpon him fallen light,

  His dearest ioynt he sure had broken quight.

  Then was the oaken crowne by Pastorell

  Giuen to Calidore, as his due right;

  But he, that did in courtesie excell,

  Gaue it to Condon, and said he wonne it well.

  45 Thus did the gentle knight himselfe abeare

  Amongst that rusticke rout in all his deeds,

  That euen they, the which his riuals were,

  Could not maligne him, but commend him needs:

  For courtesie amongst the rudest breeds

  Good will and fauour. So it surely wrought

  With this faire Mayd, and in her mynde the seeds

  Of perfect loue did sow, that last fo
rth brought

  The fruite of ioy and blisse, though long time dearely bought.

  46 Thus Calidore continu’d there long time,

  To winne the loue of the faire Pastorell;

  Which hauing got, he vsed without crime

  Or blamefull blot, but menaged so well,

  That he of all the rest, which there did dwell,

  Was fauoured, and to her grace commended.

  But what straunge fortunes vnto him befell,

  Ere he attain’d the point by him intended,

  Shall more conueniently in other place be ended.

  CANTO X

  Calidore sees the Graces daunce,

  To Colitis melody:

  The whiles his Pastorell is led,

  Into captiuity.

  1 Who now does follow the foule Blatant Beast,

  Whilest Calidore does follow that faire Mayd,

  Vnmyndfull of his vow and high beheast,

  Which by the Faery Queene was on him layd,

  That he should neuer leaue, nor be delayd

  From chacing him, till he had it attchieued?

  But now entrapt of loue, which him betrayd,

  He mindeth more, how he may be relieued

  With grace from her, whose loue his heart hath sore engrieued.

  2 That from henceforth he meanes no more to sew

  His former quest, so full of toile and paine;

  Another quest, another game in vew

  He hath, the guerdon of his loue to gaine:

  With whom he myndes for euer to remaine,

  And set his rest amongst the rusticke sort,

  Rather then hunt still after shadowes vaine

  Of courtly fauour, fed with light report,

  Of euery blaste, and sayling alwaies on the port.

  3 Ne certes mote he greatly blamed be,

  From so high step to stoupe vnto so low.

  For who had tasted once (as oft did he)

  The happy peace, which there doth ouerflow,

  And prou’d the perfect pleasures, which doe grow

  Amongst poore hyndes, in hils, in woods, in dales,

  Would neuer more delight in painted show

  Of such false blisse, as there is set for stales,

  T’entrap vnwary fooles in their eternall bales.

  4 For what hath all that goodly glorious gaze

  Like to one sight, which Calidore did vew?

  The glaunce whereof their dimmed eies would daze,

  That neuer more they should endure the shew

  Of that sunne-shine, that makes them looke askew.

  Ne ought in all that world of beauties rare,

  (Saue onely Glorianaes heauenly hew

  To which what can compare?) can it compare;

  The which as commeth now, by course I will declare.

  5 One day as he did raunge the fields abroad,

  Whilest his faire Pastorella was elsewhere,

  He chaunst to come, far from all peoples troad,

  Vnto a place, whose pleasaunce did appere

  To passe all others, on the earth which were:

  For all that euer was by natures skill

  Deuized to worke delight, was gathered there,

  And there by her were poured forth at fill,

  As if this to adorne, she all the rest did pill.

  6 It was an hill plaste in an open plaine,

  That round about was bordered with a wood

  Of matchlesse hight, that seem’d th’earth to disdaine,

  In which all trees of honour stately stood,

  And did all winter as in sommer bud,

  Spredding pauilions for the birds to bowre,

  Which in their lower braunches sung aloud;

  And in their tops the soring hauke did towre,

  Sitting like Ring of fowles in maiesty and powre.

  7 And at the foote thereof, a gentle flud

  His siluer waues did softly tumble downe,

  Vnmard with ragged mosse or filthy mud,

  Ne mote wylde beastes, ne mote the ruder clowne

  Thereto approch, ne filth mote therein drowne:

  But Nymphes and Faeries by the bancks did sit,

  In the woods shade, which did the waters crowne,

  Keeping all noysome things away from it,

  And to the waters fall tuning their accents fit.

  8 And on the top thereof a spacious plaine

  Did spred it selfe, to seme to all delight,

  Either to daunce, when they to daunce would faine,

  Or else to course about their bases light;

  Ne ought there wanted, which for pleasure might

  Desired be, or thence to banish bale:

  So pleasauntly the hill with equall hight,

  Did seeme to ouerlooke the lowly vale;

  Therefore it rightly cleeped was mount Acidale.

  9 They say that Venus, when she did dispose

  Her selfe to pleasaunce, vsed to resort

  Vnto this place, and therein to repose

  And rest her selfe, as in a gladsome port,

  Or with the Graces there to play and sport;

  That euen her owne Cytheron, though in it

  She vsed most to keepe her royall court,

  And in her soueraine Maiesty to sit,

  She in regard hereof refusde and thought vnfit.

  10 Vnto this place when as the Elfin Knight

  Approcht, him seemed that the merry sound

  Of a shrill pipe he playing heard on hight,

  And many feete fast thumping th’hollow ground,

  That through the woods their Eccho did rebound.

  He nigher drew, to weete what mote it be;

  There he a troupe of Ladies dauncing found

  Full merrily, and making gladfull glee,

  And in the midst a Shepheard piping he did see.

  11 He durst not enter into th’open greene,

  For dread of them vnwares to be descryde,

  For breaking of their daunce, if he were seene;

  But in the couert of the wood did byde,

  Beholding all, yet of them vnespyde.

  There he did see, that pleased much his sight,

  That euen he him selfe his eyes enuyde,

  An hundred naked maidens lilly white,

  All raunged in a ring, and dauncing in delight.

  12 All they without were raunged in a ring,

  And daunced round; but in the midst of them

  Three other Ladies did both daunce and sing,

  The whilest the rest them round about did hemme,

  And like a girlond did in compasse stemme:

  And in the middest of those same three, was placed

  Another Damzell, as a precious gemme,

  Amidst a ring most richly well enchaced,

  That with her goodly presence all the rest much graced.

  13 Looke how the Crowne, which Ariadne wore

  Vpon her yuory forehead that same day,

  That Theseus her vnto his bridale bore,

  When the bold Centaures made that bloudy fray

  With the fierce Lapithes, which did them dismay;

  Being now placed in the firmament,

  Through the bright heauen doth her beams display,

  And is vnto the starres an ornament,

  Which round about her moue in order excellent.

  14 Such was the beauty of this goodly band,

  Whose sundry parts were here too long to tell:

  But she that in the midst of them did stand,

  Seem’d all the rest in beauty to excell,

  Crownd with a rosie girlond, that right well

  Did her beseeme. And euer, as the crew

  About her daunst, sweet flowres, that far did smell,

  And fragrant odours they vppon her threw;

  But most of all, those three did her with gifts endew.

  15 Those were the Graces, daughters of delight,

  Handmaides of Venus, which are wont to haunt
/>
  Vppon this hill, and daunce there day and night:

  Those three to men all gifts of grace do graunt,

  And all, that Venus in her selfe doth vaunt,

  Is borrowed of them. But that faire one,

  That in the midst was placed parauaunt,

  Was she to whom that shepheard pypt alone,

  That made him pipe so merrily, as neuer none.

  16 She was to weete that iolly Shepheards lasse,

  Which piped there vnto that merry rout,

  That iolly shepheard, which there piped, was

  Poore Colin Clout (who knowes not Colin Clout?)

  He pypt apace, whitest they him daunst about.

  Pype iolly shepheard, pype thou now apace

  Vnto thy loue, that made thee low to lout;

  Thy loue is present there with thee in place,

  Thy loue is there aduaunst to be another Grace.

  17 Much wondred Calidore at this straunge sight,

  Whose like before his eye had neuer seene,

  And standing long astonished in spright,

  And rapt with pleasaunce, wist not what to weene;

  Whether it were the traine of beauties Queene,

  Or Nymphes, or Faeries, or enchaunted show,

  With which his eyes mote haue deluded beene.

  Therefore resoluing, what it was, to know,

  Out of the wood he rose, and toward them did go.

  18 But soone as he appeared to their vew,

  They vanisht all away out of his sight,

  And cleane were gone, which way he neuer knew;

  All saue the shepheard, who for fell despight

  Of that displeasure, broke his bag-pipe quight,

  And made great mone for that vnhappy turne.

  But Calidore, though no lesse sory wight,

  For that mishap, yet seeing him to mourne,

  Drew neare, that he the truth of all by him mote learne.

  19 And first him greeting, thus vnto him spake,

  Haile iolly shepheard, which thy ioyous dayes

  Here leadest in this goodly merry make,

  Frequented of these gentle Nymphes alwayes,

  Which to thee flocke, to heare thy louely layes;

  Tell me, what mote these dainty Damzels be,

  Which here with thee doe make their pleasant playes?

  Right happy thou, that mayst them freely see:

  But why when I them saw, fled they away from me?

  20 Not I so happy answerd then that swaine,

  As thou vnhappy, which them thence didst chace,

  Whom by no meanes thou canst recall againe,

  For being gone, none can them bring in place,

  But whom they of them selues list so to grace.

  Right sory I, (saide then Sir Calidore,)

  That my ill fortune did them hence displace.

  But since things passed none may now restore,