The legend of CAMBELL and TELAMOND; or of Friendship.
he rugged forehead, that with grave forefight
Wields kingdoms causes, and affairs of ftate,
My loofer rhimes, I wote, doth fharply wite,
For praifing Love as I have done of late.
And magnifying lovers dear debate;
By which frail youth is oft to folly led,
Through falfe allurement of that pleasing bait,
That better were in vertues difcipled,
Than with vain poems weeds to have their fancies fed.
Such ones ill judge of Love, that cannot love.
Ne in their frozen hearts feel kindly flame:
Forthy they ought not thing unknown reprove,
Ne natural affection faultlefs blame,
For fault of few that have abus'd the fame,
For it of honour and all vertue is
The root, and brings forth glorious flowres of fame,
That crown true lovers with immortal blifs,
The meed of them that love, and do not live amifs.
VOL II.
Which whofo lift look back to former ages,
And call to count the things that then were done,
Shall find that all the works of those wife Sages,
And brave exploits which great herëoes won.
In Love were either ended or begun :
Witness the father of philofophy,
Which to his Critias, fhaded oft from fun,
Of Love full many leffons did apply,
The which these ftoick cenfors cannot well deny.
IV..
To fuch therefore I do not fing at all;
But to that facred faint my foveraine Queen,
In whose chafte breaft all bounty natural,
And treasures of true Love enlocked been,
'Bove all her fex that ever yet was seen;
To her I fing of Love, that loveth beft,
And beft is lov'd of all alive I ween:
To her this fong moft fitly is addreft,
The Queen of Love, and Prince of peace from heaven bleft.
V.
Which that he may the better deign to hear,
Do thou dred Infant, Venus dearling dove,
From her high spirit chafe imperious fear,
And ufe of awful majefty remove :
Inftead thereof with drops of melting Love,
Dew'd with ambrofial kiffes, by thee gotten
From thy fweet fmiling mother from above,
Sprinkle her heart, and haughty courage foften,
That she may heark to Love, and read this leffon often.
Fair Britomart faves Amoret:
Dueffa difcord breeds,
'Twixt Scudamour and Blandamour :
Their fight and warlike deeds.
f lovers fad calamities of old,
Full many piteous ftories do remain :
But none more piteous ever was ytold,
Than that of Amorets heart-binding chain,
And this of Florimells unworthy pain:
The dear compaffion of whofe bittter fit.
My foftned heart fo forely doth constrain
That I with tears full oft do pity it,
And oftentimes do with it never had been writ.
For from the time that Scudamour her bought
In per❜lous fight, fhe never joyed day,
A per'lous fight when he with force her brought
From twenty Knights that did him all assay:
Yet fairly well he did them all difmay :
And with great glory both the fhield of Love,
And eke the Lady felf he brought away;
Whom having wedded as did him behove,
A new unknowen mifchief did from him remove.
For that fame vile enchanter Bufiran,
The very felf fame day that fhe was wedded, Amidst the bridal feast, whilst every man Surcharg'd with wine, were heedlefs and ill-headed, All bent to mirth before the bride was bedded, Brought in that mafk of love which late was shown And there the Lady ill of friends beltedded, By way of sport, as oft in mafks is known, Conveyed quite away to living wight unknown,
Seven months he fo her kept in bitter fmart,
Because his finful luft fhe would not ferve,
Until fuch time as noble Britomart
Released her, that else was like to sterve,
Through cruel knife that her dear heart did kerve.
And now fhe is with her upon the way,
Marching in lovely wife that could deferve
No fpot of blame, though fpite did oft affay
To blot her with difhonour of fo fair a prey.
Yet fhould it be a pleasant tale to tell
The diverse usage and demeanure daint,
That each to other made, as oft befell,
For Amoret right fearful was and faint,
Left fhe with blame her honour fhould attaint,
That every word did tremble as fhe spake,
And every look was coy, and wondrous quaint,
And every limb that touched her did quake:
Yet could fhe not but courteous count'nance to her make.
VI.
For well fhe wift, as true it was indeed,
That her life's Lord, and patron of her health,
Right well deferved as his dueful meed,
Her Love, her fervice, and her utmost wealth.
All is his juftly, that all freely dealth:
Nath'lefs her honour dearer than her life,
She fought to fave, as thing referv'd from ftealth;
Dye had the liefer with enchanters knife,
Than to be falfe in Love, profeft a virgin wife.
Thereto her fear was made fo much the greater
Through fine abufion of that Briton maid:
Who for to hide her feigned fex the better,
And mask her wounded mind, both did and faid
Full many things fo doubtful to be weigh'd
That well she wift not what by them to guess:
For otherwhiles to her fhe purpose made
Of Love, and otherwhiles of luftfulness,
That much the fear'd his mind would grow to fome excess.
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