The fubftance is not chang'd nor altered,
But th' only form and outward fashion;
For every fubftance is conditioned
To change her hue, and fundry forms to don,
Meet for her temper and complexion;
For forms are variable, and decay
By course of kind, and by occafion;
And that fair flowre of beauty fades away, As doth the Lilly fresh before the funny ray. XXXIX.
Great enemy to it, and all the reft
That in the garden of Adonis fprings,
Is wicked Time; who with his fcyth addreft, Does mow the flowring herbs and goodly things, And all their glory to the ground down flings, Where they do wither, and are foully mard: He flies about and with his flaggy wings, Beats down both leaves and buds without regard, Ne ever pity may relent his malice hard.
Yet pity often did the Gods relent,
To fee fo fair things mard, and fpoiled quight:
And their great mother Venus did lament
The lofs of her dear brood, her dear delight;
Her heart was pierc'd with pity at the fight,
When walking through the garden, them the fpide,
Yet no'te fhe find redrefs for fuch defpight.
For all that lives is fubject to that law!
All things decay in time, and to their end do draw. XLI.
But were it not that Time their troubler is,
All that in this delightful garden grows,
Should happy be, and have immortal bliss:
For here all plenty, and all pleasure flows,
And fweet love gentle fits emongst them throws,
Without fell rancour, or fond jealoufie;
Frankly each paramour his Leman knows,
Each bird his mate, ne any does envy
Their goodly meriment, and gay felicity,
There is continual fpring, and harvest there
Continual, both meeting at one time:
For both the boughs do laughing bloffoms bear,
And with fresh colours deck the wanton prime,
And eke attonce the heavy trees they clime,
Which feem to labour under their fruits lode :
The whiles the joyous birds make their pastime
Emongst the fhady leaves, their fweet abode,
And their true loves without fufpicion tell abrode.
XLIII.
Right in the middest of that paradise,
There stood a stately mount, on whofe round top
A gloomy grove of Myrtle-trees did rife,
Whose fhady boughs sharp fteel did never lop,
Nor wicked beafts their tender buds did crop,
But like a girlond compaffed the height,
And from their fruitful fides fweet gum did drop, That all the ground with precious dew bedight, Threw forth moft dainty odours, and most sweet delight. XLIV.
And in the thickeft covert of that shade,
There was a pleasant arbour, not by art,
But of the trees own inclination made,
Which knitting their rank branches part to part,
With wanton Ivy-twine entrayld athwart,
And Eglantine, and Caprifole emong,
Fashion'd above within their inmost part,
That neither Phabus beams could through them throng, Nor Eolus fharp blast could work them any wrong. XLV.
And all about grew every fort of flowre,
To which fad lovers were transform'd of yore;
Fresh Hyacinthus, Phabus paramour
Foolish Narciffe, that likes the watry fhore,
Sad Amaranthus, made a flowre but late,
Sad Amaranthus, in whofe purple gore
Me feems I fee Amintas wretched fate,
To whom fweet Poets verfe hath given endless date.
There wont fair Venus often to enjoyi
Her dear Adonis joyous company,
And reap fweet pleasure of the wanton boy;
There yet fome fay in fecret he does lye,
Lapped in flowres and precious fpicery,
By her hid from the world, and from the kill
Of Stygian Gods, which do her love envy;
But the her felf, when-ever that the will,
Poffeffeth him, and of his sweetness takes her fill.
XLVII.
And footh, it seems, they fay: for, he may not
For ever die, and ever buried be
In baleful night, where all things are forgot;
All be he fubject to mortalitie,
Yet is etern in mutabilitie,
And by fucceffion made perpetual,
Transformed oft, and changed diverfly: For him the father of all forms they call; Therefore needs mote he live, that living gives to all, XLVIII.
There now he liveth in eternal blifs,
Joying his Goddess, and of her enjoyd:
Ne feareth he henceforth that foe of his,
Which with his cruel tusk him deadly cloyd;
For that wild Boat, the which him once annoyd,
She firmly hath emprifoned for aye
(That her fweet love his malice mote avoyd)
In a strong rocky cave, which is, they fay,
Hewn underneath that mount, that none him loofen may.
XLIX.
There now he lives in everlasting joy.
With many of the Gods in company,
Which thither haunt, and with the winged boy
Sporting himself in fafe felicity:
Who, when he hath with spoils and cruelty
Ranfackt the world,, and in the woeful hearts
Of many wretches fet his triumphs high,
Thither reforts, and laying his fad darts
Afide, with fair Adonis plays his wanton parts,
And his true love fair Pfyche with him plays,
Fair Pfyche to him lately reconcil'd,
After long troubles and unmeet upbrays,
With which his mother Venus her revil'd, mo
And eke himself her cruelly exil❜d:
But now in ftedfaft love and happy state two 77
She with him lives, and hath him borne a child,
Pleasure, that doth both Gods and men aggrate;
Pleafure, the daughter of Cupid and Psyche late.
LI.
Hither great Venus brought this infant fair,
The younger daughter of Chryfogonee,
And unto Pfyche with great truft and care
Committed her, yfoftered to be,
And trained up in true feminitee:
Who no lefs carefully her tendered,
Than her own daughter Pleafure, to whom the
Made her companion, and her leffoned
In all the lore of love, and goodly womanhead.
LII.
In which when the to perfect ripenefs grew,
Of grace and beauty noble paragone,
She brought her forth into the worldës view,
To be th'enfample of true love alone,
And Load-ftar of all chafte affection,
To all fair Ladies, that do live on ground..
To Fairy court she came, where many one
Admir'd her goodly haviour, and found
His feeble heart wide launced with Loves cruel wound!
LHI.
But fhe to none of them her love did caft,
Save to the noble Knight Sir Scudamore,
To whom her loving heart fhe linked faft
In faithful love, t'abide for evermore,
And for his dearest fake endured fore,}
Sore trouble of an hainous enemy;
Who her would forced have to have forlore
Her former love and stedfast loyalty,
As ye may elsewhere read that rueful history.
LIV.
But well I ween, ye firft defire to learn, t
What end unto that fearful damozel,.
Which fled so fast from that fame Foster stern,
Whom with his brethren Timias flew, befell:
That was to weet, the goodly Florimell;
Who wandring for to feek her lover dear,
Her lover dear, her dearest Marinell,
Into misfortune fell, as ye did hear,
And from Prince Arthur fled with wings of idle fear.
The Witches fon loves Florimell:
She flies, be feigns to die.
Satyrane faves the Squire of Dames
From Giants tyrannie.
Like as an Hind forth fingled from the herd,
That hath escaped from a ravenous beast,
Yet flies away of her own feet affeard,
And every leaf, that fhaketh with the leaft
Murmur of wind, her terror hath increaft;
So fled fair Florimell from her vain fear,
Long after the from peril was releaft:
Each fhade fhe faw, and each noise fhe did hear, Did feem to be the fame, which the escapt whylear.. II.
All that fame evening fhe in flying spent,
And all that night her courfe continued:
Ne did fhe let dull fleep once to relent,
Nor weariness to flack her hafte, but fled
Ever alike, as if her former dread
Were hard behind, her ready to arreft:
And her white palfrey having conquered
The maiftring reins out of her weary wreft,
Perforce her carried, where-ever he thought beft.
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