Who then would think, that by his subtile trains Strata-
He could escape foul death or deadly pains?
Thus, when that prince's wrath was pacified,
He gan renew the late forbidden bains,2
And to the Knight his daughter dear he tied
With sacred rites and vows for ever to abide.
His own two hands the holy knots did knit,
That none but death for ever can divide;
His own two hands, for such a turn most fit,
The housling fire did kindle and provide,
And holy water thereon sprinkled wide;
At which the bushy teade a groom did light,
And sacred lamp in secret chamber hide,
Where it should not be quenchéd day nor night,
For fear of evil fates, but burnen ever bright.
Then'
gan they sprinkle all the posts with wine,
And made great feast to solemnise that day:
They all perfum'd with frankincense divine,
And precious odours fetcht from far away,
That all the house did sweat with great array:
And all the while sweet music 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 sound through all the palace pleasantly,
Like as it had been many an angel's voice
Singing before th' Eternal Majesty,
In their trinal triplicities on high:
Yet wist no creature whence that heav nly sweet
Proceeded, yet each one felt secretly
Himself thereby reft of his senses meet,
And ravished with rare impression in his sprite.
Great joy was made that day of young and old,
And solemn feast proclaim'd throughout the land,
That their exceeding mirth may not be told:
Suffice it here by signs to understand
The usual joys at knitting of love's band.
Thrice happy man the Knight himself did hold,
Possessed of his Lady's heart and hand;
And ever, when his eye did her behold,
His heart did seem to melt in pleasures manifold.
Her joyous presence, and sweet company,
In full content he there did long enjoy;
Ne wicked envy, ne vile jealousy,
His dear delights were able to annoy :
Yet swimming in that sea of blissful joy,
He naught forgot how he whilome1 had sworn,
In case he could that monstrous beast destroy,
Unto his Faery Queene back to return;
The which he shortly did; and Una left to mourn.
Now, strike your sails, ye jolly mariners,
For we be come unto a quiet road,
Where we must land some of our passengers,
And light this weary vessel of her load,
Here she a while may make her safe abode,
Till she repairéd have her tackles spent,
And wants supplied; and then again abroad
On the long voyage whereto she is bent:
Well may she speed, and fairly finish her intent!
THE LEGEND OF SIR GUYON, OR OF TEMPERANCE
RIGHT well I wote,1 most mighty Soveraine,
That all this famous antique history
Of some th' abundance of an idle brain
Will judgéd be, and painted forgery,
Rather than matter of just memory;
Sith2 none that breatheth living air doth know
Where is that happy land of Faëry,
Which I so much do vaunt, yet no where show;
But vouch antiquities, which no body can know.
But let that man with better sense advize3
That of the world least part to us is red;4
And daily how through hardy enterprize
Many great regions are discovered,
Which to late age were never mentionéd.
Who ever heard of th' Indian Peru?
Or who in vent'rous vessel measuréd
The Amazon huge river, now found true?
Or fruitfullest Virginia who did ever view?
3 Bear in mind. • Made known.
3 Ne wote, knows not.
4 Queen Eliza beth.
Yet all these were, when no man did them know,
Yet have from wisest ages hidden been;
And later times things more unknown shall show.
Why then should witless man so much misween,'
That nothing is, but that which he hath seen?
What, if within the moon's fair shining sphere,
What, if in every other star unseen
Of other worlds he happily2 should hear?
He wonder would much more; yet such to some
Of Faery land yet if he more inquire,
By certain signs, here set in sundry place,
He may it find; ne let him then admire,
But yield his sense to be too blunt and base,
That no'te without an hound fine footing trace.
And thou, O fairest Princess* under sky,
In this fair mirror mayst behold thy face,
And thine own realms in land of Faëry,
And in this antique image thy great ancestry.
The which, oh! pardon me thus to enfold
In covert veil, and wrapt in shadows light,
That feeble eyes your glory may behold,
Which else could not endure those beamës bright,
But would be dazzled with exceeding light.
Oh! pardon, and vouchsafe with patient ear
The brave adventures of this Faery Knight,
The good Sir Guyon, graciously to hear;
In whom great rule of Temp'rance goodly doth
appear.
Guyon, by Archimage abus'd,
The Redcross Knight awaits;
Finds Mordant and Amavia slain
With Pleasure's poison'd baits.
THAT cunning architect of canker'd guile,
Whom prince's late displeasure left in bands,
For falséd letters, and subornéd wile;
Soon as the Redcross Knight he understands
To been departed out of Eden lands,
To serve again his sov'raine Elfin Queen:
His arts he moves, and out of caytives' hands1
Himself he frees by secret means unseen;
His shackles empty left, himself escaped clean;
And forth he fares, full of malicious mind,
To worken mischief, and avenging woe,
Wherever he that godly Knight may find,
His only heart-sore and his only foe;
Sith 2 Una now he algates must forego,
Whom his victorious hands did erst restore
To native crown and kingdom late ygoe;5
Where she enjoys sure peace for evermore,
As weatherbeaten ship arrivéd on happy shore.
Him therefore now the object of his spite
And deadly feud he makes: him to offend
By forgéd treason, or by open fight,
He seeks, of all his drift the aiméd end:
Thereto his subtle engines he does bend,
2 Since.
3 Entirely. • Before.
" Lately since.
|