Transcriber’s note

In the HTML version the stanza numbers (indicated by Roman numerals) are in the left margin. In the EPUB3, EPUB, and Kindle versions, they are located on the right side after the first line ends.

The previous volume is available as [Project Gutenberg ebook #70717].

THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDMUND SPENSER

IN THREE VOLUMES

VOLUME III

SPENSER’S
FAERIE QUEENE

EDITED BY

J. C. SMITH

VOLUME II: BOOKS IV-VII

OXFORD
AT THE CLARENDON PRESS

Oxford University Press, Amen House, London E.C.4

GLASGOW NEW YORK TORONTO MELBOURNE WELLINGTON
BOMBAY CALCUTTA MADRAS KARACHI LAHORE DACCA
CAPE TOWN SALISBURY NAIROBI IBADAN ACCRA
KUALA LUMPUR HONG KONG

FIRST PUBLISHED 1909
REPRINTED LITHOGRAPHICALLY IN GREAT BRITAIN
AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, OXFORD
FROM SHEETS OF THE FIRST IMPRESSION
1961, 1964

CONTENTS.

THE SECOND PART OF THE
FAERIE QVEENE.

THE SECOND
PART OF THE
FAERIE QVEENE.

Containing

The Fovrth,
Fifth, and
Sixth Bookes.

By Ed. Spenser.

Imprinted at London for VVilliam
Ponsonby. 1596.

THE FOVRTH
BOOKE OF THE
FAERIE QVEENE.
Containing
The Legend of Cambel and Telamond[1],
OR
OF FRIENDSHIP.

The rugged forhead that with graue foresight i

Welds[2] kingdomes causes, and affaires of state,

My looser rimes (I wote) doth sharply wite,

For praising loue, as I haue done of late,

And magnifying louers deare debate;

By which fraile youth is oft to follie led,

Through false allurement of that pleasing baite,

That better were in vertues discipled,

Then with vaine poemes weeds to haue their fancies fed.

Such ones ill iudge of loue, that cannot loue, ii

Ne in their frosen hearts feele kindly flame:

For thy they ought not thing vnknowne reproue,

Ne naturall affection faultlesse blame,

For fault of few that haue abusd the same.

For it of honor and all vertue is

The roote, and brings forth glorious flowres of fame,

That crowne true louers with immortall blis,

The meed of them that loue, and do not liue amisse.

Which who so list looke backe to former ages, iii

And call to count the things that then were donne,

Shall find, that all the workes of those wise sages,

And braue exploits which great Heroes wonne,

In loue were either ended or begunne:

Witnesse the father of Philosophie,

Which to his Critias, shaded oft from sunne,

Of loue full manie lessons did apply,

The which these Stoicke censours cannot well deny.

To such therefore I do not sing at all, iv

But to that sacred Saint my soueraigne Queene,

In whose chast[3] breast all bountie naturall,

And treasures of true loue enlocked beene,

Boue all her sexe that euer yet was seene;

To her I sing of loue, that loueth best,

And best is lou’d of all aliue I weene:

To her this song most fitly is addrest,

The Queene of loue, and Prince of peace from heauen blest.

Which that she may the better deigne to heare, v

Do thou dred[4] infant, Venus dearling doue,

From her high spirit chase imperious feare,

And vse of awfull Maiestie remoue:

In sted thereof[5] with drops of melting loue,

Deawd with ambrosiall kisses, by thee gotten

From thy sweete smyling mother from aboue,

Sprinckle her heart, and haughtie courage soften,

That she may hearke to loue, and reade this lesson often.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Title 5 Telamond] Triamond II xxxi. l. 8 &c.

[2] i 2 Wields 1609

[3] iv 3 chaste 1609 passim

[4] v 2 dred] drad 1609

[5] 5 whereof 1609

Cant. I.

Fayre Britomart saues Amoret,

Duessa discord breedes

Twixt Scudamour and Blandamour:

Their fight and warlike deedes.

Of louers sad calamities of old, i

Full many piteous stories doe remaine,

But none more piteous euer was ytold,

Then that of Amorets hart-binding chaine,

And this of Florimels vnworthie paine:

The deare compassion of whose bitter fit

My softened heart so sorely doth constraine,

That I with teares full oft doe pittie it,

And oftentimes doe wish it neuer had bene writ.

For from the time that Scudamour her bought ii

In perilous fight, she neuer ioyed day,

A perilous fight when he with force her brought

From twentie Knights, that did him all assay:

Yet fairely well he did them all dismay:

And with great glorie both the shield of loue,

And eke the Ladie selfe he brought away,

Whom hauing wedded as did him behoue,

A new vnknowen mischiefe did from him remoue.

For that same vile Enchauntour Busyran, iii

The very selfe same day that she was wedded,

Amidst the bridale feast, whilest euery man

Surcharg’d with wine, were heedlesse and ill hedded,

All bent to mirth before the bride was bedded,

Brought in that mask of loue which late was showen:

And there the Ladie ill of friends bestedded,

By way of sport, as oft in maskes is knowen,

Conueyed quite away to liuing wight vnknowen.

Seuen moneths he so her kept in bitter smart, iv

Because his sinfull lust she would not serue,

Vntill such time as noble Britomart

Released her, that else was like to sterue,

Through cruell knife that her deare heart did kerue.

And now she is with her vpon the way,

Marching in louely wise, that could deserue

No spot of blame, though spite did oft assay

To blot her with dishonor of so faire a pray.

Yet should it be a pleasant tale, to tell v

The diuerse vsage and demeanure daint,

That each to other made, as oft befell.

For Amoret right fearefull was and faint,

Lest she with blame her honor should attaint,

That euerie word did tremble as she spake,

And euerie looke was coy, and wondrous quaint,

And euerie limbe that touched her did quake:

Yet could she not but curteous countenance to her make.

For well she wist, as true it was indeed, vi

That her liues Lord and patrone of her health

Right well deserued as his duefull meed,

Her loue, her seruice, and her vtmost wealth.

All is his iustly, that all freely dealth:

Nathlesse her honor dearer then her life,

She sought to saue, as thing reseru’d from stealth;

Die had she leuer with Enchanters knife,

Then to be false in loue, profest a virgine wife.

Thereto her feare was made so much the greater vii

Through fine abusion of that Briton mayd:

Who for to hide her fained sex the better,

And maske her wounded mind, both did and sayd

Full many things so doubtfull to be wayd,

That well she wist not what by them to gesse[6],

For other whiles to her she purpos made

Of loue, and otherwhiles of lustfulnesse,

That much she feard his mind would grow to some excesse.

His will she feard; for him she surely thought viii

To be a man, such as indeed he seemed,

And much the more, by that he lately wrought,

When her from deadly thraldome he redeemed,

For which no seruice she too much esteemed,

Yet dread of shame, and doubt of fowle dishonor

Made her not yeeld so much, as due she deemed.

Yet Britomart attended duly on her,

As well became a knight, and did to her all honor.

It so befell one euening, that they came ix

Vnto a Castell, lodged there to bee,

Where many a knight, and many a louely Dame

Was then assembled, deeds of armes to see:

Amongst all which was none more faire then shee,

That many of them mou’d to eye her sore.

The custome of that place was such, that hee

Which had no loue nor lemman there in store,

Should either winne him one, or lye without the dore.

Amongst the rest there was a iolly knight, x

Who being asked for his loue, auow’d

That fairest Amoret was his by right,

And offred that to iustifie alowd.

The warlike virgine seeing his so prowd

And boastfull chalenge, wexed inlie wroth,

But for the present did her anger shrowd;

And sayd, her loue to lose she was full loth,

But either he should neither of them haue, or both.

So foorth they went, and both together giusted; xi

But that same younker soone was ouerthrowne,

And made repent, that he had rashly lusted

For thing vnlawfull, that was not his owne:

Yet since[7] he seemed valiant, though vnknowne,

She that no lesse was courteous then[8] stout,

Cast how to salue, that both the custome showne

Were kept, and yet that Knight not locked out,

That seem’d full hard t’accord two things so far in dout.

The Seneschall was cal’d to deeme the right, xii

Whom she requir’d, that first fayre Amoret

Might be to her allow’d, as to a Knight,

That did her win and free from chalenge set:

Which straight to her was yeelded without let.

Then since that strange Knights loue from him was quitted,

She claim’d that to her selfe, as Ladies det,

He as a Knight might iustly be admitted;

So none should be out shut, sith all of loues were fitted.

With that her glistring helmet she vnlaced; xiii

Which doft, her golden lockes, that were vp bound

Still in a knot, vnto her heeles downe traced,

And like a silken veile in compasse round

About her backe and all her bodie wound:

Like as the shining skie in summers night,

What time the dayes with scorching heat abound,

Is creasted all with lines of firie light,

That it prodigious seemes in common peoples sight.

Such when those Knights and Ladies all about xiv

Beheld her, all were with amazement smit,

And euery one gan grow in secret dout

Of this and that, according to each wit:

Some thought that some enchantment faygned it;

Some, that Bellona in that warlike wise

To them appear’d, with shield and armour fit;

Some, that it was a maske of strange disguise:

So diuersely each one did sundrie doubts deuise.

But that young Knight, which through her gentle deed xv

Was to that goodly fellowship restor’d,

Ten thousand thankes did yeeld her for her meed,

And doubly ouercommen, her ador’d:

So did they all their former strife accord;

And eke fayre Amoret now freed from feare,

More franke affection did to her afford,

And to her bed, which she was wont forbeare,

Now freely drew, and found right safe assurance theare.

Where all that night they of their loues did treat, xvi

And hard aduentures twixt themselues alone,

That each the other gan with passion great,

And griefull[9] pittie priuately bemone.

The morow next so soone as Titan shone,

They both vprose, and to their waies them dight:

Long wandred they, yet neuer met with none[10],

That to their willes could them direct aright,

Or to them tydings tell, that mote their harts delight.

Lo thus they rode, till at the last they spide xvii

Two armed Knights, that toward them did pace,

And ech of them had ryding by his side

A Ladie, seeming in so farre a space,

But Ladies none they were, albee in face

And outward shew faire semblance they did beare;

For vnder maske of beautie and good grace,

Vile treason and fowle falshood hidden were,

That mote to none but to the warie wise appeare.

The one of them the false Duessa hight, xviii

That now had chang’d her former wonted hew:

For she could d’on so manie shapes in sight,

As euer could Cameleon[11] colours new;

So could she forge all colours, saue the trew.

The other no whit better was then shee,

But that such as she was, she plaine did shew;

Yet otherwise much worse, if worse might bee,

And dayly more offensiue vnto each degree.

Her name was Ate, mother of debate, xix

And all dissention, which doth dayly grow

Amongst fraile men, that many a publike[12] state

And many a priuate oft doth ouerthrow.

Her false Duessa who full well did know,

To be most fit to trouble noble knights,

Which hunt for honor, raised from below,

Out of the dwellings of the damned sprights,

Where she in darknes wastes her cursed daies and nights.

Hard by the gates of hell her dwelling is, xx

There whereas all the plagues and harmes abound,

Which punish wicked men, that walke amisse:[13]

It is a darksome delue farre vnder ground,

With thornes and barren brakes enuirond round,

That none the same may easily out win;

Yet many waies to enter may be found,

But none to issue forth when one is in:

For discord harder is to end then to begin.

And all within the riuen walls were hung xxi

With ragged monuments of times forepast,

All which the sad effects of discord sung:

There were rent robes, and broken scepters plast,[14]

Altars defyl’d, and holy things defast[15],

Disshiuered speares, and shields ytorne in twaine,

Great cities ransackt, and strong castles rast,

Nations captiued, and huge armies slaine:

Of all which ruines there some relicks did remaine.

There was the signe of antique Babylon, xxii

Of fatall Thebes, of Rome that raigned long,

Of sacred Salem, and sad Ilion,

For memorie of which on high there hong

The golden Apple, cause of all their wrong,

For which the three faire Goddesses did striue:

There also was the name of Nimrod strong,

Of Alexander, and his Princes fiue,

Which shar’d to them the spoiles that he had got aliue.

And there the relicks[16] of the drunken fray, xxiii

The which amongst the Lapithees befell,

And of the bloodie feast, which sent away

So many Centaures drunken soules to hell,

That vnder great Alcides furie fell:

And of the dreadfull discord, which did driue

The noble Argonauts to outrage fell,

That each of life sought others to depriue,

All mindlesse of the Golden fleece, which made them striue.

And eke of priuate persons many moe, xxiv

That were too long a worke to count them all;

Some of sworne friends, that did their faith forgoe;

Some of borne brethren, prov’d vnnaturall;

Some of deare louers, foes perpetuall:

Witnesse their broken bandes there to be seene,