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And shall finde friends, if need requireth

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•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,

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.

Shee, onely she, it is, that earst did throw XXX

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 ? What hevens ? 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 is 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

nesse, ame!

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 eryme doe not it cover, but disclose

find no lesse.'
the same.'
XXXI

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 dis

reach. mayd,

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.

their hand.

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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.

the land, That their exceeding merth may not be

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 hands, for such a turne most hold, fitt,

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

sworne, wine,

In case he could that monstrous beast deAnd made great feast to solemnize that

stroy, 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, That all the house did sweat with great

aray: And all the while sweete musicke did Now strike your sailes, yee jolly mariapply

ners, Her curious skill, the warbling notes to For we be come unto a quiet rode, play,

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

abroad noise

On the long voiage whereto she is bent: Heard sownd through all the pallace plea- Well may she speede, and fairely finish her santly,

intent.

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EPITHALAMION

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. Whoin 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.

And let the ground whereas her foot shall Your string could soone to sadder tenor tread, turne,

For feare the stones her tender foot should And teach the woods and waters to lainent

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 strayt; sound;

The whiles doe ye this song unto her sing, Ne let the same of any be envide:

The woods shali to you answer, and your So Orpheus did for his owne bride:

eceho 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.

heed

The silver scaly trouts doe tend full well, Farly, before the worlds light giving lampe And greedy pikes which use therein to feed, His golden beame npon the hils doth spred, (Those trouts and pikes all others doo exHaving disperst the nights unclearefull cell) dampe,

And ye likewise which keepe the rushy Doe ye awake, and, with fresh lustyhed,

lake, 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 her awake; for Hymen is awake,

light, And long since ready forth his maske to And in his waters, which 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 fiake,

lie, And many a bachelor to waite on him, No blemish she may spie. In theyr fresh garments trim.

Aud eke ye lightfoot mayds which keepe Bid ber 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 may answer,

That all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring.

and your

eccho ring.

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Wake now, my love, awake! for it is time: Set all your things in seemely good aray,
The rosy Morne long since left Tithones bed, Fit for so joyfull day,
All ready to her silver coche to clyme, The joyfulst day that ever sunne did see.
And Phæbus gins to shew his glorious hed. Faire Sun, shew forth thy favourable ray,
Hark how the cheerefull birds do chaunt And let thy lifull heat not fervent be,
thevr laies,

For feare of burning her sunshyny face, And carroll of loves praise !

Her beauty to disgrace. The merry larke hir mattins sings aloft, 80 O fayrest Phæbus, father of the Muse, The thrush replyes, the mavis descant playes, If ever I did honour thee aright, The ouzell shrills, the ruddock warbles soft, Or sing the thing that mote thy mind deSo goodly all agree, with sweet consent,

light, To this dayes merriment.

Doe not thy servants simple boone refuse, Ab! my deere love, why doe ye sleepe But let this day, let this one day be myne, thus long,

Let all the rest be thine. When meeter were that ye should now Then I thy soverayne prayses loud wil sing, awake,

That all the woods shal answer, and theyr T' awayt the comming of your joyous make, eccho ring. And hearken to the birds love-learned song, The deawy leaves among ?

Harke how the minstrels gin to shrill aloud For they of joy and pleasance to you sing, Their merry musick that resounds from far, That all the woods them answer, and theyr The pipe, the tabor, and the trembling crond, eccho ring

That well agree withouten breach or jar. 132

But most of all the damzels doe delite, My love is now awake out of her dreame, When they their tymbrels smyte, And her fayre eyes, like stars that dimmed And thereunto doe daunce and carrol sweet,

That all the sences they doe ravish quite, With darksome cloud, now shew theyr good. The whyles the boyes run up and downe the ly beams

street, More bright then Xesperus his head doth Crying aloud with strong confused noyce,

As if it were one voyce. Come now, ye damzels, daughters of de- ‘Hymen, lö Hymen, Hymen,' they do shout, light,

That even to the heavens theyr shouting Helpe quickly her to dight.

shrill But first come ye, fayre Houres, which Doth reach, and all the firmament doth fill; were begot,

To which the people, standing all about, In Joves sweet paradice, of Day and Night, As in approvance doe thereto applaud, Which doe the seasons of the year allot, 100 And loud advaunce her laud, And al that ever in this world is fayre And evermore they · Hymen, Hymen’sing, Do make and still repayre.

That al the woods them answer, and theyr And ye three handmayds of the Cyprian eccho ring.

Queene, The which doe still adorne her beauties pride, Loe! where she comes along with portly Helpe to addorne my beautifullest bride:

pace, And as ye her array, still throw betweene Lyke Phæbe, from her chamber of the east, Some graces to be seene:

Arysing forth to run her mighty race, And as ye use to Venus, to her sing, Clad all in white, that seemes a virgin best. The whiles the woods shal answer, and your So well it ber beseemes, that ye would weene eccho ring.

Some angell she had beene.

Her long loose yellow locks lyke golden Now is my love all ready forth to come:

wyre, Let all the virgins therefore well awayt, Sprinckled with perle, and perling flowres And ye fresh boyes, that tend upon her

atweene, groome,

Doe lyke a golden mantle her attyre, Prepare your selves, for he is comming And being crowned with a girland greene, strayt.

Seeme lyke some mayden queene.

rere.

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Her modest eyes, abashed to behold

Had ye once seene these her celestial threaSo many gazers as on her do stare,

sures, Upon the lowly ground affixed are;

And unrevealed pleasures, Ne dare lift up her countevance too bold, Then would ye wonder, and her prayses sing, But blush to heare her prayses sung so loud,

That al the woods should auswer, and your So farre from being proud.

echo ring Nathlesse doe ye still loud her prayses sing, That all the woods may answer, and your Open the temple gates unto my love, eccho ring.

Open them wide that she may enter in,

Aud all the postes adorne as doth behove, Tell me, ye merchants daughters, did ye see And all the pillours deck with girlands trim, So fayre a creature in your towne before, For to receyve this saynt with honour dew, So sweet, so lovely, and so mild as she, That commeth in to you. Adornd with beautyes grace and vertues With trembling steps and humble reverence, store ?

She commeth in before th’Almighties vew: Her goodly eyes lyke saphyres shining Of her, ye virgins, learne obedience, bright,

When so ye come into those holy places, Her forehead yvory white,

To humble your proud faces. Her cheekes lyke apples which the sun hath Bring her up to th' high altar, that she may rudded,

The sacred ceremonies there partake, Her lips lyke cherryes charming men to The which do endlesse matrimony make; brte,

And let the roring organs loudly play Her brest like to a bowle of creame un- The praises of the Lord in lively notes, cruded,

The whiles with hollow throates Her paps lyke lyllies budded,

The choristers the joyous antheme sing, Her snowie necke lyke to a marble towre, That al the woods may answere, and their And all her body like a pallace fayre,

eccho ring Ascending uppe, with many a stately stayre, To honors seat and chastities sweet bowre. Behold, whiles she before the altar stands, Why stand ye still, ye virgins, in amaze, 181 Hearing the holy priest that to her speakes, Upon her so to gaze,

And blesseth her with his two happy bands, Whiles ve forget your former lay to sing, How the red roses flush up in her cheekes, To which the woods did answer, and your Aud the pure snow with goodly vermill eccho ring?

stayne,

Like crimsin dyde in gravne: But if ye saw that which no eyes can see, That even th' angels, which continually The inward beauty of her lively spright, About the sacred altare doe remaine, Garnishit with heavenly guifts of high de- Forget their service and abont her fly, gree,

Ofte peeping in her face, that seemes more Much more then would ye wonder at that fayre, sight,

The more they on it stare. And stand astonisht lyke to those which But her sad eyes, still fastened on the ground, red

Are governed with goodly modesty, Medusaes mazeful hed.

That suffers not one looke to glaunce awry, There dwels sweet Love, and constant Chas- Which may let in a little thought unsownil. tity,

Why blush ye, love, to give to me your hand, L'nspotted Fayth, and comely Womanhood, The pledge of all our band ? Regard of Honour, and nuild Modesty; Sing, ye sweet angels, Alleluya sing, There Vertue raynes as queene in royal That all the woods may answere, and your throne,

eccho ring. And giveth lawes alone, The which the base affections doe obay, Now al is done; bring home the bride againe, And veeld theyr services unto her will; Bring home the triumph of our victory, Ne thought of thing unconely ever may Bring home with you the glory of her gaine, Thereto approch to tempt her mind to il'. With joyance bring her and with jollity.

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