Suddein upriseth from her stately place

The roiall Dame, and for her coche doth call:
All hurtlen forth; and she, with princely pace,
As faire Aurora in her purple pall

Out of the East the dawning day doth call.

So forth she comes; her brightnes brode doth blaze. The heapes of people, thronging in the hall,

Doe ride each other upon her to gaze :

Her glorious glitterand light doth all mens eies amaze.

So forth she comes, and to her coche does clyme,
Adorned all with gold and girlonds gay,
That seemd as fresh as Flora in her prime;
And strove to match, in roiall rich array,

Great Junoes golden chayre; the which, they say,
The gods stand gazing on, when she does ride

To Joves high hous through heavens bras-paved way,
Drawne of fayre Pecocks, that excell in pride,
And full of Argus eyes their tayles dispredden wide.

UNA'S MARRIAGE.

Then forth he called that his daughter fayre, The fairest Un', his onely daughter deare, His onely daughter and his only hayre; Who forth proceeding with sad sober cheare, As bright as doth the morning starre appeare Out of the East, with flaming lockes bedight, To tell that dawning day is drawing neare, And to the world does bring long-wished light: So faire and fresh that Lady shewd herselfe in sight. So faire and fresh, as freshest flowre in May: For she had layd her mournefull stole aside, And widow-like sad wimple throwne away, Wherewith her heavenly beautie she did hide, Whiles on her wearie journey she did ride; And on her now a garment she did weare All lilly white, withoutten spot or pride, That seemd like silke and silver woven neare ; But neither silkę nor silver therein did appeare.

The blazing brightnesse of her beauties beame,
And glorious light of her sunshyny face,
To tell were as to strive against the streame:
My ragged rimes are all too rude and bace
Her heavenly lineaments for to enchace.
Ne wonder; for her own deare loved knight,
All were she daily with himselfe in place,
Did wonder much at her celestial sight:

Oft had he seene her faire, but never so faire dight.

His owne two hands the holy knotts did knitt,
That none but death for ever can divide;
His owne two hands, for such a turne most fitt,
The housling' fire did kindle and provide,
And holy water thereon sprinckled wide;

At which the bushy Teade 2 a groome did light,
And sacred lamp in secret chamber hide,
Where it should not be quenched day nor night,
For feare of evil fates, but burnen ever bright.

Then gan they sprinckle all the posts with wine,
And made great feast to solemnize that day :
They all perfumde with frankincense divine,
And precious odours fetcht from far away,
That all the house did sweat with great aray:
And all the while sweete Musicke did apply
Her curious skill the warbling notes to play,
To drive away the dull Melancholy;

The whiles one sung a song of love and jollity.

During the which there was an heavenly noise Heard sownd through all the Pallace pleasantly, Like as it had bene many an Angels voice Singing before th' eternall majesty,

In their trinall triplicities on hye:

Yett wist no creature whence that hevenly sweet
Proceeded, yet each one felt secretly

Himselfe thereby refte of his sences meet,

And ravished with rare impression in his sprite.

Great joy was made that day of young and old, And solemne feast proclaymd throughout the land, That their exceeding merth may not be told: Suffice it heare by signes to understand The usuall joyes at knitting of loves band. Thrise happy man the knight himselfe did hold, Possessed of his Ladies hart and hand;

And ever, when his eie did her behold,

His heart did seeme to melt in pleasures manifold.
Her joyous presence, and sweet company,

In full content he there did long enjoy;
Ne wicked envy, ne vile gealosy,

His deare delights were hable to annoy ;
Yet, swimming in that sea of blisfull joy,

He nought forgott how he whilome had sworne,
In case he could that monstrous beast destroy,
Unto his Faery Queene backe to retourne ;
The which he shortly did, and Una left to mourne.
Now, strike your sailes, yee jolly Mariners,

For we be come unto a quiet rode,
Where we must land some of our passengers,

And light this weary vessell of her lode :
Here she a while may make her safe abode,
Till she repaired have her tackles spent,

And wants supplide; And then againe abroad

On the long voiage whereto she is bent:

Well may she speede, and fairely finish her intent! [From The Faerie Queene, Bk. ii.]

PHAEDRIA AND THE IDLE LAKE.

A harder lesson to learne Continence
In joyous pleasure then in grievous paine;
For sweetnesse doth allure the weaker sence
So strongly, that uneathes it can refraine
From that which feeble nature covets faine:
But griefe and wrath, that be her enemies
And foes of life, she better can abstaine:
Yet vertue vauntes in both her victories,

And Guyon in them all shewes goodly maysteries.

Whom bold Cymochles traveiling to finde,
With cruell purpose bent to wreake on him
The wrath which Atin kindled in his mind,
Came to a river, by whose utmost brim
Wayting to passe, he saw whereas did swim
Along the shore, as swift as glaunce of eye,
A litle Gondelay, bedecked trim

With boughes and arbours woven cunningly,
That like a litle forrest seemed outwardly.

And therein sate a Lady fresh and fayre,
Making sweet solace to herselfe alone:
Sometimes she song as lowd as larke in ayre,
Sometimes she laught, as merry as Pope Jone;
Yet was there not with her else any one,
That to her might move cause of meriment :
Matter of merth enough, though there were none,
She could devise; and thousand waies invent
To feede her foolish humour and vaine jolliment.

Which when far off Cymochles heard and saw,
He lowdly cald to such as were abord

The little barke unto the shore to draw,
And him to ferry over that deepe ford.
The merry mariner unto his word

Soone hearkened, and her painted bote streightway
Turnd to the shore, where that same warlike Lord
She in receiv'd; but Atin by no way

She would admit, albe the knight her much did pray.

Eftsoones her shallow ship away did slide,
More swift then swallow sheres the liquid skye,
Withouten oare or Pilot it to guide,

Or winged canvas with the wind to fly:
Onely she turnd a pin, and by and by
It cut away upon the yielding wave,
Ne cared she her course for to apply;

For it was taught the way which she would have,

And both from rocks and flats it selfe could wisely save

And all the way the wanton Damsell found
New merth her passenger to entertaine;
For she in pleasaunt purpose did abound,
And greatly joyed merry tales to faine,

Of which a store-house did with her remaine :
Yet seemed, nothing well they her became ;
For all her wordes she drownd with laughter vaine,
And wanted grace in utt'ring of the same,

That turned all her pleasaunce to a scoffing game.

And other whiles vaine toyes she would devize, As her fantasticke wit did most delight: Sometimes her head she fondly would aguize With gaudy girlonds, or fresh flowrets dight About her necke, or rings of rushes plight: Sometimes, to do him laugh, she would assay To laugh at shaking of the leaves light Or to behold the water worke and play About her little frigot, therein making way.

Her light behaviour and loose dalliaunce
Gave wondrous great contentment to the knight,
That of his way he had no sovenaunce,

Nor care of vow'd revenge and cruell fight,

But to weake wench did yield his martiall might:
So easie was to quench his flamed minde
With one sweete drop of sensuall delight.
So easie is t'appease the stormy winde

Of malice in the calme of pleasaunt womankind.

Diverse discourses in their way they spent ; Mongst which Cymochles of her questioned Both what she was, and what that usage ment, Which in her cott she daily practized?

'Vaine man,' (saide she) 'that wouldest be reckoned

A straunger in thy home, and ignoraunt

Of Phaedria, (for so my name is red)

Of Phaedria, thine owne fellow servaunt;

For thou to serve Acrasia thy selfe doest vaunt.