Page 48 of The Faerie Queene


  20 Goodly she gan faire Cytherea greet,

  And shortly asked her, what cause her brought

  Into that wildernesse for her vnmeet,

  From her sweete bowres, and beds with pleasures fraught:

  That suddein change she strange aduenture thought.

  To whom halfe weeping, she thus answered,

  That she her dearest sonne Cupido sought,

  Who in his frowardnesse from her was fled;

  That she repented sore, to haue him angered.

  21 Thereat Diana gan to smile, in scorne

  Of her vaine plaint, and to her scoffing sayd;

  Great pittie sure, that ye be so forlorne

  Of your gay sonne, that giues ye so good ayd

  To your disports: ill mote ye bene apayd.

  But she was more engrieued, and replide;

  Faire sister, ill beseemes it to vpbrayd

  A dolefull heart with so disdainfull pride;

  The like that mine, may be your paine another tide.

  22 As you in woods and wanton wildernesse

  Your glory set, to chace the saluage beasts,

  So my delight is all in ioyfulnesse,

  In beds, in bowres, in banckets, and in feasts:

  And ill becomes you with your loftie creasts,

  To scorne the ioy, that Ioue is glad to seeke;

  We both are bound to follow heauens beheasts,

  And tend our charges with obeisance meeke:

  Spare, gentle sister, with reproch my paine to eeke.

  23 And tell me, if that ye my sonne haue heard,

  To lurke emongst your Nymphes in secret wize;

  Or keepe their cabins: much I am affeard,

  Least he like one of them him selfe disguize,

  And turne his arrowes to their exercize:

  So may he long himselfe full easie hide:

  For he is faire and fresh in face and guize,

  As any Nymph (let not it be enuyde.)

  So saying euery Nymph full narrowly she eyde.

  24 But Phœbe therewith sore was angered,

  And sharply said; Goe Dame, goe seeke your boy,

  Where you him lately left, in Mars his bed;

  He comes not here, we scorne his foolish ioy,

  Ne lend we leisure to his idle toy:

  But if I catch him in this company,

  By Stygian lake I vow, whose sad annoy

  The Gods doe dread, he dearely shall abye:

  Ile clip his wanton wings, that he no more shall fly.

  25 Whom when as Venus saw so sore displeased,

  She inly sory was, and gan relent,

  What she had said: so her she soone appeased,

  With sugred words and gentle blandishment,

  Which as a fountaine from her sweet lips went,

  And welled goodly forth, that in short space

  She was well pleasd, and forth her damzels sent,

  Through all the woods, to search firom place to place,

  If any tract of him or tydings they mote trace.

  26 To search the God of loue, her Nymphes she sent

  Throughout the wandring forrest euery where:

  And after them her selfe eke with her went

  To seeke the fugitiue, both farre and nere,

  So long they sought, till they arriued were

  In that same shadie couert, whereas lay

  Faire Crysogone in slombry traunce whilere:

  Who in her sleepe (a wondrous thing to say)

  Vnwares had borne two babes, as faire as springing day.

  27 Vnwares she them conceiu’d, vnwares she bore:

  She bore withouten paine, that she conceiued

  Withouten pleasure: ne her need implore

  Lucinaes aide: which when they both perceiued,

  They were through wonder nigh of sense bereaued,

  And gazing each on other, nought bespake:

  At last they both agreed, her seeming grieued

  Out of her heauy swowne not to awake,

  But from her louing side the tender babes to take.

  28 Vp they them tooke, each one a babe vptooke,

  And with them carried, to be fostered;

  Dame Phœbe to a Nymph her babe betooke,

  To be vpbrought in perfect Maydenhed,

  And of her selfe her name Belphœbe red:

  But Venus hers thence farre away conuayd,

  To be vpbrought in goodly womanhed,

  And in her litle loues stead, which was strayd,

  Her Amoretta cald, to comfort her dismayd.

  29 She brought her to her ioyous Paradize,

  Where most she wonnes, when she on earth does dwel.

  So faire a place, as Nature can deuize:

  Whether in Paphos, or Cytheron hill,

  Or it in Gnidus be, I wote not well;

  But well I wote by tryall, that this same

  All other pleasant places doth excell,

  And called is by her lost louers name,

  The Gardin of Adonis, farre renowmd by fame.

  30 In that same Gardin all the goodly flowres,

  Wherewith dame Nature doth her beautifie,

  And decks the girlonds of her paramoures,

  Are fetcht: there is the first seminarie

  Of all things, that are borne to liue and die,

  According to their kindes. Long worke it were,

  Here to account the endlesse progenie

  Of all the weedes, that bud and blossome there;

  But so much as doth need, must needs be counted here.

  31 It sited was in fruitfull soyle of old,

  And girt in with two walles on either side;

  The one of yron, the other of bright gold,

  That none might thorough breake, nor ouer-stride:

  And double gates it had, which opened wide,

  By which both in and out men moten pas;

  Th’one faire and fresh, the other old and dride:

  Old Genius the porter of them was,

  Old Genius, the which a double nature has.

  32 He letteth in, he letteth out to wend,

  All that to come into the world desire;

  A thousand thousand naked babes attend

  About him day and night, which doe require,

  That he with fleshly weedes would them attire:

  Such as him list, such as eternall fate

  Ordained hath, he clothes with sinfull mire,

  And sendeth forth to liue in mortall state,

  Till they againe returne backe by the hinder gate.

  33 After that they againe returned beene,

  They in that Gardin planted be againe;

  And grow afresh, as they had neuer seene

  Fleshly corruption, nor mortall paine.

  Some thousand yeares so doen they there remaine;

  And then of him are clad with other hew,

  Or sent into the chaungefull world againe,

  Till thither they returne, where first they grew:

  So like a wheele around they runne from old to new.

  34 Ne needs there Gardiner to set, or sow,

  To plant or prune: for of their owne accord

  All things, as they created were, doe grow,

  And yet remember well the mightie word,

  Which first was spoken by th’Almightie lord,

  That bad them to increase and multiply:

  Ne doe they need with water of the ford,

  Or of the clouds to moysten their roots dry;

  For in themselues eternall moisture they imply.

  35 Infinite shapes of creatures there are bred,

  And vncouth formes, which none yet euer knew,

  And euery sort is in a sundry bed

  Set by it selfe, and ranckt in comely rew:

  Some fit for reasonable soules t’indew,

  Some made for beasts, some made for birds to weare,

  And all the fruitfull spawne of fishes hew

  In endlesse rancks along
enraunged were,

  That seem’d the Ocean could not containe them there.

  36 Daily they grow, and daily forth are sent

  Into the world, it to replenish more;

  Yet is the stocks not lessened, nor spent,

  But still remaines in euerlasting store,

  As it at first created was of yore.

  For in the wide wombe of the world there lyes,

  In hatefull darkenesse and in deepe horrore,

  An huge eternall Chaos, which supplyes

  The substances of natures fruitfull progenyes.

  37 All things from thence doe their first being fetch,

  And borrow matter, whereof they are made,

  Which when as forme and feature it does ketch,

  Becomes a bodie, and doth then inuade

  The state of life, out of the griesly shade.

  That substance is eterne, and bideth so,

  Ne when the life decayes, and forme does fade,

  Doth it consume, and into nothing go,

  But chaunged is, and often altred to and fro.

  38 The substance is not chaunged, nor altered,

  But th’only forme and outward fashion;

  For euery substance is conditioned

  To change her hew, and sundry formes to don,

  Meet for her temper and complexion:

  For formes are variable and decay,

  By course of kind, and by occasion;

  And that faire flowre of beautie fades away,

  As doth the lilly fresh before the sunny ray.

  39 Great enimy to it, and to all the rest,

  That in the Gardin of Adonis springs,

  Is wicked Time, who with his scyth addrest,

  Does mow the flowring herbes and goodly things,

  And all their glory to the ground downe flings,

  Where they doe wither, and are fowly mard:

  He flyes about, and with his flaggy wings

  Beates down both leaues and buds without regard,

  Ne euer pittie may relent his malice hard.

  40 Yet pittie often did the gods relent,

  To see so faire things mard, and spoyled quight:

  And their great mother Venus did lament

  The losse of her deare brood, her deare delight;

  Her hart was pierst with pittie at the sight,

  When walking through the Gardin, them she spyde,

  Yet no’te she find redresse for such despight.

  For all that liues, is subiect to that law:

  All things decay in time, and to their end do draw.

  41 But were it not, that Time their troubler is,

  All that in this delightfull Gardin growes,

  Should happie be, and haue immortall blis:

  For here all plentie, and all pleasure flowes,

  And sweet loue gentle fits emongst them throwes,

  Without fell rancor, or fond gealosie;

  Franckly each paramour his leman knowes,

  Each bird his mate, ne any does enuie

  Their goodly meriment, and gay felicitie.

  42 There is continuall spring, and haruest there

  Continuall, both meeting at one time:

  For both the boughes doe laughing blossomes beare,

  And with fresh colours decke the wanton Prime,

  And eke attonce the heauy trees they clime,

  Which seeme to labour vnder their fruits lode:

  The whiles the ioyous birdes make their pastime

  Emongst the shadie leaues, their sweet abode,

  And their true loues without suspition tell abrode.

  43 Right in the middest of that Paradise,

  There stood a stately Mount, on whose round top

  A gloomy groue of mirtle trees did rise,

  Whose shadie boughes sharpe Steele did neuer lop,

  Nor wicked beasts their tender buds did crop,

  But like a girlond compassed the hight,

  And from their fruitfull sides sweet gum did drop,

  That all the ground with precious deaw bedight,

  Threw forth most dainty odours, & most sweet delight.

  44 And in the thickest couert of that shade,

  There was a pleasant arbour, not by art,

  But of the trees owne inclination made,

  Which knitting their rancke braunches part to part,

  With wanton yuie twyne entrayld athwart,

  And Eglantine, and Caprisole emong,

  Fashiond aboue within their inmost part,

  That nether Phœbus beams could through them throng,

  Nor Aeolus sharp blast could worke them any wrong.

  45 And all about grew euery sort of flowre,

  To which sad louers were transformd of yore;

  Fresh Hyacinthus, Phæbus paramoure,

  Foolish Narcisse, that likes the watry shore,

  Sad Amaranthus, made a flowre but late,

  Sad Amaranthus, in whose purple gore

  Me seemes I see Amintas wretched fete,

  To whom sweet Poets verse hath giuen endlesse date.

  46 There wont faire Venus often to enioy

  Her deare Adonis ioyous company,

  And reape sweet pleasure of the wanton boy;

  There yet, some say, in secret he does ly,

  Lapped in flowres and pretious spycery,

  By her hid from the world, and from the skill

  Of Stygian Gods, which doe her loue enuy;

  But she her selfe, when euer that she will,

  Possesseth him, and of his sweetnesse takes her fill.

  47 And sooth it seemes they say: for he may not

  For euer die, and euer buried bee

  In balefull night, where all things are forgot;

  All be he subiect to mortalitie,

  Yet is eterne in mutabilitie,

  And by succession made perpetuall,

  Transformed oft, and chaunged diuerslie:

  For Him the Father of all formes they call;

  Therefore needs mote he liue, that liuing giues to all.

  48 There now he liues in eternall blis,

  Ioying his goddesse, and of her enioyd:

  Ne feareth he henceforth that foe of his,

  Which with his cruell tuske him deadly cloyd:

  For that wilde Bore, the which him once annoyd,

  She firmely hath emprisoned for ay,

  That her sweet loue his malice mote auoyd,

  In a strong rocky Caue, which is they say,

  Hewen vndemeath that Mount, that none him losen may.

  49 There now he Hues in euerlasting ioy,

  With many of the Gods in company,

  Which thither haunt, and with the winged boy

  Sporting himselfe in safe felicity:

  Who when he hath with spoiles and cruelty

  Ransackt the world, and in the wofull harts

  Of many wretches set his triumphes hye,

  Thither resorts, and laying his sad darts

  Aside, with faire Adonis playes his wanton parts.

  50 And his true loue faire Psyche with him playes,

  Faire Psyche to him lately reconcyld,

  After long troubles and vnmeet vpbrayes,

  With which his mother Venus her reuyld,

  And eke himselfe her cruelly exyld:

  But now in stedfast loue and happy state

  She with him liues, and hath him borne a chyld,

  Pleasure, that doth both gods and men aggrate,

  Pleasure, the daughter of Cupid and Psyche late.

  51 Hither great Venus brought this infant faire,

  The younger daughter of Chrysogonee,

  And vnto Psyche with great trust and care

  Committed her, yfostered to bee,

  And trained vp in true feminitee:

  Who no lesse carefully her tendered,

  Then her owne daughter Pleasure, to whom shee

  Made her companion, and her lessoned

  In all the lore of loue, and
goodly womanhead.

  52 In which when she to perfect ripenesse grew,

  Of grace and beautie noble Paragone,

  She brought her forth into the worldes vew,

  To be th’ensample of true loue alone,

  And Lodestarre of all chaste affectione,

  To all faire Ladies, that doe liue on ground.

  To Faery court she came, where many one

  Admyrd her goodly haueour, and found

  His feeble hart wide launched with loues cruell wound.

  53 But she to none of them her loue did cast,

  Saue to the noble knight Sir Scudamore,

  To whom her louing hart she linked fast

  In faithfull loue, t’abide for euermore,

  And for his dearest sake endured sore,

  Sore trouble of an hainous enimy;

  Who her would forced haue to haue forlore

  Her former loue, and stedfast loialty,

  As ye may elsewhere read that ruefull history.

  54 But well I weene, ye first desire to learne,

  What end vnto that fearefull Damozell,

  Which fled so fast from that same foster stearne,

  Whom with his brethren Timias slew, befell:

  That was to weet, the goodly Florimell;

  Who wandring for to seeke her louer deare,

  Her louer deare, her dearest Marinell,

  Into misfortune fell, as ye did heare,

  And from Prince Arthur fled with wings of idle feare.

  CANTO VII

  The witches sonne loves Florimell:

  she flyes, he faines to die.

  Satyrane saues the Squire of Dames

  from Gyants tyrannie.

  1 Like as an Hynd forth singled from the heard,

  That hath escaped from a rauenous beast,

  Yet flyes away of her owne feet affeard,

  And euery leafe, that shaketh with the least

  Murmure of winde, her terror hath encreast;

  So fled faire Florimell from her vaine feare,

  Long after she from perill was releast:

  Each shade she saw, and each noyse she did heare,

  Did seeme to be the same, which she escapt whyleare.

  2 All that same euening she in flying spent,

  And all that night her course continewed:

  Ne did she let dull sleepe once to relent,

  Nor wearinesse to slacke her hast, but fled

  Euer alike, as if her former dred

  Were hard behind, her readie to arrest:

  And her white Palfrey hauing conquered

  The maistring raines out of her weary wrest,

  Perforce her carried, where euer he thought best

  3 So long as breath, and liable puissance

  Did natiue courage vnto him supply,

  His pace he freshly forward did aduaunce,

  And carried her beyond all ieopardy,