a

With him went Danger, cloth'd in rugged weed, For, from her back her garments she did tear, Made of bear's skin, that him more dreadful made: And from her head oft rent her snarled hair: Yet his own face was dreadful, nor did need

In her right hand a firebrand she did toss Strange horror to deform his grisly shade;

About her head, still roaming here and there; A net in th’ one hand, and a rusty blade

As a dismayed deer in chace embost, In th’ other was: this mischief, that mishap; Forgetful of his safety, hath his right way lost. With th' one his foes he threatened to invade, With th' other he his friends meant to enwrap;

After them, went Displeasure and Pleasance; For, whom he could not kill, he practis'd to entrap.

He looking lumpish and full sullen sad,

And hanging down his heavy countenance;
Next him was Fear, all arm’d from top to toe, She chearful, fresh, and full of joyance glad,
Yet thought himself not safe enough thereby, As if no sorrow she nor felt, nor dread;
But fear'd each shadow moving to and fro:

That evil matched pair they seemed to be :
And his own arms when glittering he did spy, An angry wasp th' one in a vial had:
Or clashing heard, he fast away did fly,

Th' other in her's a honey-lady bee ;
As ashes pale of hue, and wingy-heel'd;

Thus marched these six couples forth in fair degree, And evermore on Danger fix'd his eye, Gainst whom he always bent a brazen shield,

After all these there march'd a most fair dame, Which his right hand unarmed fearfully did wield.

Led of two grizly villains, th' one Despight,

The other cleped Cruelty by name : With him went Hope in rank, a handsome maid, She doleful lady, like a dreary spright, Of chearful look and lovely to behold;

Call’d by strong charms out of eternal night, In silken samite she was light array'd,

Had death's own image figur’d in her face, And her fair locks were woven up in gold;

Full of sad signs, fearful to living sight ; She always smil'd, and in her hand did hold Yet in that Horror shew'd a seemly grace, An holy water sprinkle, dipp'd in dew,

And with her feeble feet did move a comely pace. With which she sprinkled favours manifold, On whom she list, and did great liking shew;

Her breast all naked, as neat ivory, Great liking unto many, but true love to few. Without adorn of gold or silver bright,

Wherewith the craftsman wonts it beautify, And after them Dissemblance and Suspect

Of her due honour was despoiled quite, March'd in one rank, yet an unequal pair ;

And a wide wound therein (O rueful sight!) For, she was gentle, and of mild aspect,

Entrenched deep with knife accursed keen, Courteous to all, and seeming debonnair,

Yet freshly bleeding forth her fainting sprite Goodly adorned, and exceeding fair:

(The work of cruel hand) was to be seen, Yet was that all but painted, and purloined, [hair, That dyed in sanguine red her skin all snowy clean. And her bright brows were deck'd with borrowed Her deeds were forged, and her words false coined, At that wide orifice, her trembling heart And always in her hand two clues of silk she twined. Was drawn forth, and in silver bason laid,

Quite through transfixed with a deadly dart, But he was foul, ill-favoured, and grim,

And in her blood yet steaming fresh embay'd; Under his eyebrows looking still askance;

And those two villains, which her steps upstaid, And ever as Dissemblance laugh'd on him,

When her weak feet could scarcely her sustain, He lour'd on her with dangerous eye-glance;

And fading vital powers gan to fade, Shewing his nature in his countenance;

Her forward still with torture did constrain,
His rolling eyes did never rest in place,

And evermore increased her consuming pain.
But walk'd each where, for fear of hid mischance,
Holding a lattice still before his face, (pass. Next after her, the winged God himself
Through which he still did peep, as forward he did Came riding on a lion ravenous,

Taught to obey the manage of that elf,
Next him went Grief and Fury match'd yfere; That man and beast with power imperious
Grief, all in sable sorrowfully clad,

Subdueth to his kingdom tyrannous: Down hanging his dull head, with heavy cheer, His blindfold eyes he bade awhile unbind, Yet inly being more, than seeming sad:

That his proud spoil of that same dolorous A pair of pincers in his hand he had,

Fair dame, he might behold in perfect kind; With which he pinched people to the heart, Which seen, he much rejoiced in his cruel mind. That from thenceforth a wretched life they lad, In wilful languor and consuming smart,

Of which full proud, himself uprearing high, Dying each day with inward wounds of dolour's dart. He looked round about with stern disdain ;

And did survey his goodly company : But Fury was full ill appareled

And marshalling the evil ordered train, In rags, that naked nigh she did appear,

With that the darts which his right hand did strain, With ghastful looks and dreadful drearihead; Full dreadfully he shook that all did quake,

And clapp'd on high his coloured winges twain, With dear compassion deeply did emmove,
That all his many it afraid did make :

That she gan moan his undeserved smart,
Then, blinding him again, his way he forth did take. And with her doleful accent, bear with him a part,
Behind him was Reproach, Repentance, Shame; She, sitting by him, as on ground he lay,
Reproach the first, Shame next, Repent behind: Her mournful notes full piteously did frame,
Repentance feeble, sorrowful and lame:

And thereof made a lamentable lay, Reproach despiteful, careless, and unkind;

So sensibly compil'd, that in the same Shame most ill-favour'd, bestial, and blind; [scold; Him seemed oft he heard his own right name. Shame lourd, Repentance sigh’d, Reproach did With that, he forth would pour so plenteous tears, Reproach sharp stings, Repentance whips entwin'd, And beat his breast unworthy of such blame, Shame burning brand-irons in her hand did hold; And knock his head, and rend bis rugged hairs, All three to each unlike, yet all made in one mould. That could have pierc'd the hearts of tigers and of

[bears. And after them, a rude confused rout

Thus long this gentle bird to him did use,
Of persons flock’d, whose names is hard to read : Withouten dread of peril to repair
Amongst them was stern Strife, and Anger stout, Unto his wonne; and with her mournful muse
Unquiet Care, and fond Unthriftihead,

Him to recomfort in his greatest care,
Lewd Loss of Time, and Sorrow seeming dead, That much did ease his mourning and misfare:
Inconstant Change, and false Disloyalty,

And every day, for guerdon of her song, Consuming Riotise, and guilty Dread

He part of his small feast to her would share; Of heavenly vengeance, faint Infirmity,

That, at the last, of all his woe and wrong, Vile Poverty, and lastly Death with Infamy. Companion she became, and so continued long. There were full many more like maladies,

Upon a day, as she him sate beside,
Whose names and natures I not readen well; By chance he certain moniments forth drew,
So many more as there be phantasies

Which yet with him as relicks did abide
In wandering women's wit, that none can tell ; Of all the bounty, which Belphebe threw
Or pains in love, or punishments in hell:

On him, while goodly grace she did him shew: And, which disguised, march’d, in masking wise, Amongst the rest, a jewel rich he found, About the chamber with that Damosel,

That was a ruby of right perfect hue, And then returned (having marched thrice) Shap'd like a heart, yet bleeding of the wound, Into the inner room, from whence they first did rise. And with a little golden chain about it bound.

The same he took, and with a ribbon new

(In which his lady's colours were) did bind THE SQUIRE AND THE DOVE.

About the turtle's neck, that with the view Well said the wise man, now prov'd true by this, Did greatly solace his engrieved mind. Which to this gentle squire did happen late; All unawares the bird, when she did find That the displeasure of the mighty is

Herself so deck'd, her nimble wings display'd, Than death itself more dread and desperate: And flew away, as lightly as the wind: For, nought the same may calm, nor mitigate, Which sudden accident him much dismay'd, Till time the tempest do thereof allay

And looking after long, did mark which way she With sufferance soft, which rigour can abate,

(stray'd. And have the stern remembrance wip'd away But, when as long he looked had in vain, Of bitter thoughts, which deep therein infixed lay. Yet saw her forward still to make her flight,

His weary eye return'd to him again, Like as it fell to this unhappy boy,

Full of discomfort and disquiet plight, Whose tender heart the fair Belphebe had

That both his jewel he had lost so light, With one stern look so daunted, that no joy

And eke his dear companion of his care. In all his life, which afterwards he lad,

But that sweet bird departing, flew forth right He ever tasted; but with penance sad,

Through the wide region of the wasteful air, And pensive sorrow, pin’d and wore away, [glad; Until she came where wonned his Belphebe fair. Nor ever laugh’d, nor once shew'd countenance But always wept and wailed night and day, [decay; There found she her (as then it did betide) As blasted blossom, through heat, doth languish and Sitting in covert shade of arbors sweet,

After late weary toil, which she had tried
Till on a day (as in his wonted wise

In savage chace, to rest as seem'd her meet.
His dole he made) there chanc'd a turtle-dove There she alighting, fell before her feet,
To come, where he his dolours did devise,

And gan to her, her mournful plaint to make,
That likewise late had lost her dearest love; As was her wont: thinking to let her weet
Which loss her made like passion also prove. The great tormenting grief, that for her sake (take.
Who seeing his sad plight, her tender heart Her gentle squire througb her displeasure did par-

She, her beholding with attentive eye,

That when your pleasure is to deem aright, At length did mark about her purple breast

Ye may redress, and me restore to light.
That precious jewel, which she formerly

Which sorry words, her mighty heart did mate
Had known right well, with colour'd ribbon drest; With mild regard, to see his rueful plight,
Therewith she rose in haste, and her addrest That her in-burning wrath she gan abate,
With ready hand it to have reft away.

And him receiv'd again to former favour's state.
But the swift bird obey'd not her behest,
But swerv'd aside, and there again did stay;
She follow'd her, and thought again it to assay.

SIMILE.
And ever when she nigh approach'd, the dove

Then did he set her by that snowy one, Would flit a little forward, and then stay

Like the true saint beside the image set; Till she drew near, and then again remove;

Of both their beauties to make paragon, So tempting her still to pursue the prey,

And trial whether should the honour get. And still from her escaping soft away:

Straightway so soon as both together met, Till that at length, into that forest wide

Th’ enchanted damsel vanish'd into nought:
She drew her far, and led with slow delay.

Her snowy substance melted as with heat,
In th’end, she her unto that place did guide, Nor of that goodly hue remained ought, (wrought.
Whereas that woful man in languor did abide. But th' empty girdle, which about her waist was
He her beholding, at her feet down fell,

As when the daughter of Thaumantes fair,
And kiss'd the ground on which her sole did tread, Hath in a wat’ry cloud displayed wide
And wash'd the same with water, which did well Her goodly bow, which paints the liquid air,
From his moist eyes, and like two streams proceed; That all men wonder at her colour's pride;
Yet spake no word, whereby she might aread All suddenly, ere one can look aside,
What mister wight he was, or what he meant; The glorious picture vanisheth away,
But as one daunted with her presence dread, Nor any token dotb thereof abide :
Only few rueful looks unto her sent,

So did this lady's goodly form decay,
As messengers of his true meaning and intent. And into nothing go, ere one could it bewray.
Yet nathemore his meaning she ared,
But wondered much at his so uncouth case

COMBAT BETWEEN PRINCE ARTHUR
And by his person's secret seemlihed

AND THE SOLDAN DESCRIBED.
Well ween'd, that he had been some man of place,
Before misfortune did his hue deface:

Wherewith, the Soldan all with fury fraught,
That being mov'd with ruth she thus bespake. Swearing, and banning most blasphemously,
Ah! woful man, what heaven's hard disgrace,

Commanded strait his armour to be brought';
Or wrath of cruel wight on thee ywrake,

And mounting strait upon a chariot high,
Or self disliked life, doth thee thus wretched make ? With iron wheels and hooks arm’d dreadfully,

And drawn of cruel steeds, which he had fed
If heaven, then none may it redress or blame, With flesh of men, whom through fell tyranny
Since to his power we all are subject born:

He slaughtered had, and ere they were half dead,
If wrathful wight, then foul rebuke and shame Their bodies to his beasts for provender did spread.
Be theirs, that have so cruel thee forlorn;
But if through inward grief, or wilful scorn

So, forth he came all in a coat of plate,
Of life it be, then better do avise.

Burnish'd with bloody rust; while on the green For, he whose days in wilful woe are worn,

The Briton Prince him ready did await, The grace of his Creator doth despise,

In glittering arms right goodly well beseen, That will not use his gifts for thankless niggardise. That shone as bright as doth the heaven sheen;

And by his stirrup Talus did attend, When so he heard her say, eftsoons he brake Playing his page's part, as he had been His sudden silence, which he long had pent,

Before directed by his lord; to th' end
And sighing inly deep, her thus bespake;

He should his flail to final execution bend.
Then have they all themselves against me bent:
For heaven (first author of my languishment) Thus go they both together to their gear,
Envying my too great felicity,

With like fierce minds, but meanings different:
Did closely with a cruel one consent,

For, the proud Soldan with presumptuous chear, To cloud my days in doleful misery,

And countenance sublime and insolent, And make me loath this life, still longing for to die. Sought only slaughter and avengement:

But the brave Prince for honour and for right,
Nor any but yourself, O dearest dread,

Gainst tortious power and lawless regiment,
Hath done this wrong; to wreak on worthless wight In the behalf of wronged weak did fight:
Your high displeasure, through misdeeming bred : More in his cause's truth he trusted than in might.

d

Like to the Thracian tyrant, who they say

That one sure stroke he might unto him reach, Unto his horses gave his guests for meat,

Whereby his strength’s essay he might him teach. Till he himself was made their greedy prey, At last, from his victorious shield he drew And torn in pieces by Alcides great ;

The veil, which did his powerful light impeach ; So thought the Soldan in his folly's threat,

And coming full before his horses' view, Either the Prince in pieces to have torn

As they upon him press’d, it plain to them did shew. With his sharp wheels, in his first rage's heat, Or under his fierce horses' feet have borne (scorn. Like lightening flash, that hath the gazer burned, And trampled down in dust his thought's disdained So did the sight thereof their sense dismay,

That back again upon themselves they turned, But the bold child that peril well espying,

And with their rider ran perforce away: If he too rashly to his chariot drew,

Nor could the Soldan them from flying stay, Gave way unto his horse's speedy flying,

With reins, or wonted rule, as well he knew. And their resistless rigour did eschew.

Nought feared they, what he could do or say, Yet, as he passed by, the Pagan threw

But th' only fear that was before their view; A shivering dart with so impetuous force,

From which, like mazed deer, dismayfully they flew. That had he not it shunn'd with heedful view, It had himself transfixed, or his horse, [morse. Fast did they fly, as them their feet could bear, Or made them both one mass withouten more re- High over hills, and lowly over dales,

As they were follow'd of their former fear. Oft drew the Prince unto his chariot nigh,

In vain the Pagan banns, and swears, and rails, In hope some stroke to fasten on him near ;

And back with both his hands unto him hailes But he was mounted in his seat so high,

The resty reins, regarded now no more : And his wing-footed coursers him did bear

He to them calls and speaks, yet nought avails; So fast away, that ere his ready spear

They hear him not, they have forgot his lore, [lore. He could advance, he far was gone and past. But go which way they list, their guide they have forYet still he him did follow every where, And followed was of him likewise full fast:

As when the fiery-mouthed steeds, which drew So long as in his steeds the flaming breath did last. The sun's bright wain to Phaeton's decay,

Soon as they did the monstrous scorpion view, Again, the Pagan threw another dart,

With ugly craples crawling in their way, Of which he had with him abundant store,

The dreadful sight did them so sore affray, On every side of his embattled cart,

That their well knowen courses they forwent; And of all other weapons less or more,

And leading the ever burning lamp astray, Which warlike uses had deviz'd of yore.

This lower world nigh all to ashes brent; The wicked shaft guided through th' airie wide,

And left their scorched path yet in the firmament. By some bad spirit, that it to mischief bore, Staid not, till through his curat it did glide,

Such was the fury of these headstrong steeds,

Soon as the infant's sun-like shield they saw, And made a grisly wound in his enriven side.

That all obedience, both to words and deeds, Much was he grieved with that hapless throe, They quite forgot, and scorn'd all former law; That opened had the well-spring of his blood; Through woods, and rocks, and mountains they did But much the more that to his hateful foe

The iron chariot, and the wheels did tear, (draw He might not come, to wreak his wrathful mood, And toss'd the Paynim, without fear or awe; That made him rave, like to a lion wood;

From side to side they toss'd him here and there, Which being wounded of the huntsman's hand Crying to them in vain, that n'ould his crying hear. Cannot come near him in the covert wood, Where he with boughs hath built his shady stand,

Yet still the Prince pursued him close behind, And fenc'd himself about with many a flaming brand.

Oft making offer him to smite, but found

No easy means according to his mind.
Still when he sought t' approach unto him nigh, At last, they have all overthrown to ground
His chariot wheels about him whirled round, Quite topside turvey, and the Pagan bound
And made him back again as fast to fly;

Amongst the iron hooks and grapples keen,
And eke his steeds, like to an hungry hound, Torn all to rags, and rent with many a wound,
That hunting after game hath carrion found, That no whole piece of him was to be seen,
So cruelly did him pursue and chace,

But scattered all about, and strow'd upon the green. That his good steed, all were he much renown'd For noble courage, and for hardy race,

[place.

Like as the cursed son of Theseus, Durst not endure their sight, but fled from place to

That following his chace in dewy morn,

To fly his stepdame's love outrageous,
Thus long they trac'd, and travers’d to and fro, Of his own steeds was all to pieces torn,
Seeking by every way to make some breach: And his fair limbs left in the woods forlorn;
Yet could the Prince not nigh unto him go,

That for his sake Diana did lament,

And all the woody nymphs did wail and mourn : Devis'd to work delight, was gathered there,
So was this Soldan rapt and all to rent,

And there by her were poured forth at fill,
That of his shape appear'd no little moniment. As if this to adorn, she all the rest did pill.
Only his shield and armour, which there lay, Unto this place when as the elfin knight
Though nothing whole, but all so bruis’d and broken

Approach'd, him seemed that the merry sound He up did take, and with him brought away, Of a shrill pipe he playing heard on hight, That might remain for an eternal token

And many feet fast thumping th' hollow ground, To all, mongst whom this story should be spoken, That through the woods their echo did rebound. How worthily, by heaven's high decree,

He nigher drew, to weet what might it be; Justice that day of wrong herself had wroken; There he a troop of ladies dancing found That all men which that spectacle did see,

Full merrily, and making gladful glee, By like example might for ever warned be.

And in the midst a shepherd piping he did see.

He durst not enter into the open green
SIR CALIDORE.

For dread of them unwares to be descried,
Who now does follow the foul blatant beast, For breaking of their dance, if he were seen;
While Calidore does follow that fair maid,

But in the covert of the wood did bide,
Unmindful of his vow and high behest,

Beholding all, yet of them unespied.
Which, by the fairy queen, was on him laid, There he did see, that pleased much his sight,
That he should never leave, nor be delay'd

That even he himself his eyes envied,
From chacing him, till he had it atchiev’d?

An hundred naked maidens lily wbite,
But now, entrapp'd of love, which him betray'd, All ranged in a ring, and dancing in delight.
He mindeth more, how he may be relieved
With grace from her, whose love his heart hath sore

All they without were ranged in a ring, engrieved;

And danced round; but in the midst of them

Three other ladies did both dance and sing, That from henceforth he means no more to sue That while the rest them round about did hem, His former guest, so full of toil and pain;

And like a garland did in compass stem: Another guest, another game in view

And in the midst of those same three was placed He hath, the guerdon of his love to gain ;

Another damsel, as a precious gem With whom he minds for ever to remain,

Amidst a ring most richly well enchaced, [graced.
And set his rest among the rustic sort,

That with her goodly presence all the rest much
Rather than hunt still after shadows vain
Of courtly favour, fed with light report

Look how the crown, which Ariadne wore
Of every blast, and sailing always in the port.

Upon her ivory forehead that same day

That Theseus her unto his bridal bore Nor certes might he greatly blamed be,

(When the bold Centaurs made that bloody fray From so high step, to stoop unto so low.

With the fierce Lapithes which did them dismay)
For, who had tasted once (as oft did he)

Being now placed in the firmament,
The happy peace, which there doth overflow, Through the bright heavens doth her beams display,
And prov'd the perfect pleasures which do grow And is unto the stars an ornament,
Amongst poor hinds, in hills, in woods, in dales, Which round about her move in order excellent:
Would never more delight in painted show
Of such false bliss, as there is set for stales,

Such was the beauty of this goodly band,
T'entrap unwary fools in their eternal bales. Whose sundry parts were here too long to tell:

But she that in the midst of them did stand,
For, what hath all that goodly glorious gaze Seem'd all the rest in beauty to excel,
Like to one sight, which Calidore did view? Crown'd with a rosy garland, that right well
The glance whereof their dimmed eyes would daze, Did her beseem. And ever, as the crew
That never more they should endure the shew About her danc'd, sweet flowers, that far did smell,
Of that sunshine, that makes them look askew: And fragrant odours they upon her threw;
Nor aught in all that world of beauties rare

But most of all, those three did her with gifts endue.
(Save only Gloriana's heavenly hue ;
To which what can compare :) can it compare ;

Those were the Graces, daughters of delight, The which, as cometh now by course, I will declare.

Handmaids of Venus, which are wont to haunt

Upon this hill, and dance there day and night: One day as he did range the fields abroad,

Those three to men all gifts of grace do grant, While his fạir Pastorella was elsewhere,

And all, that Venus in herself doth vaunt,
He chanc'd to come, far from all people's troad, Is borrowed of them. But that fair one,
Unto a place, whose pleasance did appear

That in the midst was placed paravant,
To pass all others, on the earth which were: Was she to whom that shepherd pip'd alone,
For, all that ever was by nature's skill

That made him pipe so merrily, as never none.