The Faerie Queene

  Yet would not let their battell so be broken,

  Both greedie fiers on other to be wroken.

  Yet he to them so earnestly did call,

  And them coniur’d by some well knowen token,

  That they at last their wrothfull hands let 611,

  Content to heare him speake, and glad to rest withall.

  22 First he desir’d their cause of strife to see:

  They said, it was for loue of Florimell.

  Ah gentle knights (quoth he) how may that bee,

  And she so farre astray, as none can tell.

  Fond Squire, full angry then sayd Paridell,

  Seest not the Ladie there before thy face?

  He looked backe, and her aduizing well,

  Weend as he said, by that her outward grace,

  That fayrest Florimell was present there in place.

  23 Glad man was he to see that ioyous sight,

  For none aliue but ioy’d in Florimell,

  And lowly to her lowting thus behight;

  Fayrest of faire, that fairenesse doest excell,

  This happie day I haue to greete you well,

  In which you safe I see, whom thousand late,

  Misdoubted lost through mischiefe that befell;

  Long may you liue in health and happie state.

  She litle answer’d him, but lightly did aggrate.

  24 Then turning to those Knights, he gan a new;

  And you Sir Blandamour and Paridell,

  That for this Ladie present in your vew,

  Haue rays’d this cruell warre and outrage fell,

  Certes me seemes bene not aduised well,

  But rather ought in friendship for her sake

  To ioyne your force, their forces to repell,

  That seeke perforce her from you both to take,

  And of your gotten spoyle their owne triumph to make.

  25 Thereat Sir Blandamour with countenance sterne,

  All full of wrath, thus fiercely him bespake;

  A read thou Squire, that I the man may learne,

  That dare fro me thinke Florimell to take.

  Not one (quoth he) but many doe partake

  Herein, as thus. It lately so befell,

  That Satyran a girdle did vptake,

  Well knowne to appertaine to Florimell,

  Which for her sake he wore, as him beseemed well.

  26 But when as she her selfe was lost and gone,

  Full many knights, that loued her like deare,

  Thereat did greatly grudge, that he alone

  That lost faire Ladies ornament should weare,

  And gan therefore close spight to him to beare:

  Which he to shun, and stop vile entries sting,

  Hath lately caus’d to be proclaim’d each where

  A solemne feast, with publike turneying,

  To which all knights with them their Ladies are to bring.

  27 And of them all she that is fayrest found,

  Shall haue that golden girdle for reward,

  And of those Knights who is most stout on ground,

  Shall to that fairest Ladie be prefard.

  Since therefore she her selfe is now your ward,

  To you that ornament of hers pertaines,

  Against all those, that chalenge it to gard,

  And saue her honour with your ventrous paines;

  That shall you win more glory, then ye here find gaines.

  28 When they the reason of his words had hard,

  They gan abate the rancour of their rage,

  And with their honours and their loues regard,

  The furious flames of malice to asswage.

  Tho each to other did his faith engage,

  Like faithfull friends thenceforth to ioyne in one

  With all their force, and battell strong to wage

  Gainst all those knights, as their professed fone,

  That chaleng’d ought in Florimell, saue they alone.

  29 So well accorded forth they rode together

  In friendly sort, that lasted but a while;

  And of all old dislikes they made faire weather,

  Yet all was forg’d and spred with golden foyle,

  That vnder it hidde hate and hollow guyle.

  Ne certes can that friendship long endure,

  How euer gay and goodly be the style,

  That doth ill cause or euill end enure:

  For vertue is the band, that bindeth harts most sure.

  30 Thus as they marched all in close disguise,

  Of fayned loue, they chaunst to ouertake

  Two knights, that lincked rode in louely wise,

  As if they secret counsels did partake;

  And each not farre behinde him had his make,

  To weete, two Ladies of most goodly hew,

  That twixt themselues did gentle purpose make,

  Vnmindfull both of that discordfull crew,

  The which with speedie pace did after them pursew.

  31 Who as they now approched nigh at hand,

  Deeming them doughtie as they did appeare,

  They sent that Squire afore, to vnderstand,

  What mote they be: who viewing them more neare

  Returned readie newes, that those same weare

  Two of the prowest Knights in Faery lond;

  And those two Ladies their two louers deare,

  Couragious Cambell, and stout Triamond,

  With Canacee and Combine linckt in louely bond.

  32 Whylome as antique stories tellen vs,

  Those two were foes the fellonest on ground,

  And battell made the dreddest daungerous,

  That euer shrilling trumpet did resound;

  Though now their acts be no where to be found,

  As that renowmed Poet them compyled,

  With warlike numbers and Heroicke sound,

  Dan Chaucer, well of English vndefyled,

  On Fames eternall beadroll worthie to be fyled.

  33 But wicked Time that all good thoughts doth waste,

  And workes of noblest wits to nought out weare,

  That famous moniment hath quite defaste,

  And robd the world of threasure endlesse deare,

  The which mote haue enriched all vs heare.

  O cursed Eld the cankerworme of writs,

  How may these rimes, so rude as doth appeare,

  Hope to endure, sith workes of heauenly wits

  Are quite deuourd, and brought to nought by little bits?

  34 Then pardon, O most sacred happie spirit,

  That I thy labours lost may thus reuiue,

  And steale from thee the meede of thy due merit,

  That none durst euer whilest thou wast aliue,

  And being dead in vaine yet many striue:

  Ne dare I like, but through infusion sweete

  Of thine owne spirit, which doth in me surviue,

  I follow here the footing of thy feete,

  That with thy meaning so I may the rather meete.

  35 Cambelloes sister was fayre Canacee,

  That was the learnedst Ladie in her dayes,

  Well seene in euerie science that mote bee,

  And euery secret worke of natures wayes,

  In wittie riddles, and in wise soothsayes,

  In power of herbes, and tunes of beasts and burds;

  And, that augmented all her other prayse,

  She modest was in all her deedes and words,

  And wondrous chast of life, yet lou’d of Knights & Lords.

  36 Full many Lords, and many Knights her loued,

  Yet she to none of them her liking lent,

  Ne euer was with fond affection moued,

  But rul’d her thoughts with goodly gouernement,

  For dread of blame and honours blemishment;

  And eke vnto her lookes a law she made,

  That none of them once out of order went,

  But like to warie Centonels well stayd,

  Still watcht
on euery side, of secret foes affrayd.

  37 So much the more as she refusd to loue,

  So much the more she loued was and sought,

  That oftentimes vnquiet strife did moue

  Amongst her louers, and great quarrels wrought,

  That oft for her in bloudie armes they fought.

  Which whenas Cambell, that was stout and wise,

  Perceiu’d would breede great mischiefe, he bethought

  How to preuent the perill that mote rise,

  And turne both him and her to honour in this wise.

  38 One day, when all that troupe of warlike wooers

  Assembled were, to weet whose she should bee,

  All mightie men and dreadfull derring dooers,

  (The harder it to make them well agree)

  Amongst them all this end he did decree;

  That of them all, which loue to her did make,

  They by consent should chose the stoutest three,

  That with himselfe should combat for her sake,

  And of them all the victour should his sister take.

  39 Bold was the chalenge, as himselfe was bold,

  And courage full of haughtie hardiment,

  Approued oft in perils manifold,

  Which he atchieu’d to his great ornament:

  But yet his sisters skill vnto him lent

  Most confidence and hope of happie speed,

  Concerned by a ring, which she him sent,

  That mongst the manie vertues, which we reed,

  Had power to staunch al wounds, that mortally did bleed.

  40 Well was that rings great vertue knowen to all,

  That dread thereof, and his redoubted might

  Did all that youthly rout so much appall,

  That none of them durst vndertake the fight;

  More wise they weend to make of loue delight,

  Then life to hazard for faire Ladies looke,

  And yet vncertaine by such outward sight,

  Though for her sake they all that perill tooke,

  Whether she would them loue, or in her liking brooke.

  41 Amongst those knights there were three brethren bold,

  Three bolder brethren neuer were yborne,

  Borne of one mother in one happie mold,

  Borne at one burden in one happie morne,

  Thrise happie mother, and thrise happie morne,

  That bore three such, three such not to be fond;

  Her name was Agape whose children werne

  All three as one, the first bight Priamond,

  The second Dyamond, the youngest Triamond.

  42 Stout Priamond, but not so strong to strike,

  Strong Diamond, but not so stout a knight,

  But Triamond was stout and strong alike:

  On horsebacke vsed Triamond to fight,

  And Priamond on foote had more delight,

  But horse and foote knew Diamond to wield:

  With curtaxe vsed Diamond to smite,

  And Triamond to handle speare and shield,

  But speare and curtaxe both vsd Priamond in field.

  43 These three did loue each other dearely well,

  And with so firme affection were allyde,

  As if but one soule in them all did dwell,

  Which did her powre into three parts diuyde;

  like three faire branches budding farre and wide,

  That from one roote deriu’d their vitall sap:

  And like that roote that doth her life diuide,

  Their mother was, and had full blessed hap,

  These three so noble babes to bring forth at one clap.

  44 Their mother was a Fay, and had the skill

  Of secret things, and all the powres of nature,

  Which she by art could vse vnto her will,

  And to her seruice bind each liuing creature:

  Through secret vnderstanding of their feature.

  Thereto she was right faire, when so her face

  She list discouer, and of goodly stature;

  But she as Fayes are wont, in priuie place

  Did spend her dayes, and lov’d in forests wyld to space.

  45 There on a day a noble youthly knight

  Seeking aduentures in the saluage wood,

  Did by great fortune get of her the sight;

  As she sate carelesse by a cristall flood,

  Combing her golden lockes, as seemd her good:

  And vnawares vpon her laying hold,

  That stroue in vaine him long to haue withstood,

  Oppressed her, and there (as it is told)

  Got these three louely babes, that prov’d three champions bold.

  46 Which she with her long fostred in that wood,

  Till that to ripenesse of mans state they grew:

  Then shewing forth signes of their fathers blood,

  They loued armes, and knighthood did ensew,

  Seeking aduentures, where they anie knew.

  Which when their mother saw, she gan to dout

  Their safetie, least by searching daungers new,

  And rash prouoking perils all about,

  Their days mote be abridged through their corage stout

  47 Therefore desirous th’end of all their dayes

  To know, and them t’enlarge with long extent,

  By wondrous skill, and many hidden wayes,

  To the three fatall sisters house she went.

  Farre vnder ground from tract of liuing went,

  Downe in the bottome of the deepe Abysse,

  Where Demogorgon in dull darknesse pent,

  Farre from the view of Gods and heauens bh’s,

  The hideous Chaos keepes, their dreadfull dwelling is.

  48 There she them found, all sitting round about

  The direfull distaffe standing in the mid,

  And with vnwearied fingers drawing out

  The lines of life, from liuing knowledge hid.

  Sad Clotho held the rocke, the whiles the thrid

  By griesly Lachesis was spun with paine,

  That cruell Atropos eftsoones vndid,

  With cursed knife cutting the twist in twaine:

  Most wretched men, whose dayes depend on thrids so vaine.

  49 She them saluting, there by them sate still,

  Beholding how the thrids of life they span:

  And when at last she had beheld her fill,

  Trembling in heart, and looking pale and wan,

  Her cause of comming she to tell began.

  To whom fierce Atropos, Bold Fay, that durst

  Come see the secret of the life of man,

  Well worthie thou to be of Ioue accurst,

  And eke thy childrens thrids to be asunder burst

  50 Whereat she sore affrayd, yet her besought

  To graunt her boone, and rigour to abate,

  That she might see her childrens thrids forth brought,

  And know the measure of their vtmost date,

  To them ordained by eternall fate.

  Which Clotho graunting, shewed her the same:

  That when she saw, it did her much amate,

  To see their thrids so thin, as spiders frame,

  And eke so short, that seemd their ends out shortly came.

  51 She then began them humbly to intreate,

  To draw them longer out, and better twine,

  That so their liues might be prolonged late.

  But Lachesis thereat gan to repine,

  And sayd, fond dame that deem’st of things diuine

  As of humane, diat they may altred bee,

  And chaung’d at pleasure for those impes of thine.

  Not so; for what the Fates do once decree,

  Not all the gods can chaunge, nor Ioue him self can free.

  52 Then since (quoth she) the terme of each mans life

  For nought may lessened nor enlarged bee,

  Graunt this, that when ye shred with fatall knife

  His line, which is the eldest of the thre
e,

  Which is of them the shortest, as I see,

  Eftsoones his life may passe into the next;

  And when the next shall likewise ended bee,

  That both their Hues may likewise be annext

  Vnto the third, that his may so be trebly wext.

  53 They graunted it; and then that carefull Fay

  Departed thence with full contented mynd;

  And comming home, in warlike fresh aray

  Them found all three according to their kynd:

  But vnto them what destinie was assynd,

  Or how their liues were eekt, she did not tell;

  But euermore, when she fit time could fynd,

  She warned them to tend their safeties well,

  And loue each other deare, what euer them befell.

  54 So did they surely during all their dayes,

  And neuer discord did amongst them fall;

  Which much augmented all their other praise.

  And now t’increase affection naturall,

  In loue of Canacee they ioyned all:

  Vpon which ground this same great battell grew,

  Great matter growing of beginning small;

  The which for length I will not here pursew,

  But rather will reserue it for a Canto new.

  CANTO III

  The battell twixt three brethren with

  Cambell for Canacee

  Cambina with true friendships bond

  doth their long strife agree.

  1 O why doe wretched men so much desire,

  To draw their dayes vnto the vtmost date,

  And doe not rather wish them soone expire,

  Knowing the miserie of their estate,

  And thousand perills which them still awate,

  Tossing them like a boate amid the mayne,

  That euery houre they knocke at deathes gate?

  And he that happie seemes and least in payne,

  Yet is as nigh his end, as he that most doth playne.

  2 Therefore this Fay I hold but fond and vaine,

  The which in seeking for her children three

  Long life, thereby did more prolong their paine.

  Yet whilest they liued none did euer see

  More happie creatures, then they seem’d to bee,

  Nor more ennobled for their courtesie,

  That made them dearely lou’d of each degree;

  Ne more renowmed for their cheualrie,

  That made them dreaded much of all men farre and nie.

  3 These three that hardie chalenge tooke in hand,

  For Canacee with Cambell for to fight:

  The day was set, that all might vnderstand,

  And pledges pawnd the same to keepe a right,

  That day, the dreddest day that liuing wight

  Did euer see vpon this world to shine,

  So soone as heauens window shewed light,

  These warlike Champions all in armour shine,