 Book 3, Canto 4, The Legend of Britomartis. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please go to LibriVox.org. The Fairy Queen by Edmund Spencer. Book 3, The Legend of Britomartis. of Chastity. Canto 4. The bold marinelle of Britomartis is thrown on the rich strand. Their florimelle of Arthur is long followed, but not fond. Where is the antique glory now become, that will own wanton women to appear? Where be the brave achievements done by some? Where be the battles, where the shield and spear? And all the conquests, which them high did rear? That matter made for famous poets verse, and boastful men so oft abashed to hear. Been they all dead and laid in doful hearse? Are doing their only sleep and shall again reverse? If they be dead, then woe is me therefore, but if they sleep, oh, let them soon awake, for all too long I burn, with envy soar, to hear the warlike feats, which Homer spake of bold pentheselaea, which made a lake of greakish blood so oft in trojan plain. But when I read how stout debora-strake, proud Cicera, or how Camille hath slain the huge or silicus, I swell with great disdain. Yet these, and all that else had puissance, cannot with noble Britomart compare. As well for glory of great valiance, as for pure chastity and virtue rare, that all her goodly deeds do well declare. Well worthy stok from which the branches sprung, that in late years so fair a blossom bear, is thee, oh queen, the matter of my song, whose lineage from this lady I derive along. Who went through speeches with the Red Cross Knight, she learned had the estate of Artigale, and in each point herself informed a rite, a friendly league of love perpetual. She with him bound, and congee took with all. Then he forth on his journey did proceed, to seek adventures which moat him before, and win him worship through his warlike deed, which all ways of his pains he made the cheapest mead. But Britomart kept on her former course, nay ever doft her arms, but all the way grew pensive through that amorous discourse by which the Red Cross Knight did erst display her lover's shape and chivalrous array, a thousand thoughts she fashioned in her mind, and in her feigning fancy did portray him such, as fittest she for love could find, wise, warlike, personable, courteous and kind, with such self-pleasing thoughts her wound she fed, and thought so to beguile, her grievous smart. But so her smart was much more grievous bred, and the deep wound more deep engord her heart, that not but death her dollar moat depart. So forth she rode without repose or rest, searching all lands, and each remotest part, following the guidance of her blinded guest, till that to the sea-coast at length she her addressed. There she alighted from her light-foot beast, and, sitting down upon the rocky shore, bat her old squire unlace her loft-decrest, though having viewed, while the surges whore, that against the craggy cliffs did loudly roar, and in their raging circuitry disdained, with the fast earth affronted them so sore, and their devouring, covetized, restrained. There at she sighed deep, and after thus complained. Huge sea of sorrow and impestuous grief, wherein my feeble bark is tossed long, far from the hoped haven of relief, why do thy cruel billows beat so strong, and thy moist mountains each on others throng, threatening to swallow up my fearful life? Oh, do thy cruel wrath and spiteful wrong at length allay and stint thy stormy strife, which in these troubled bowels reigns and rages rife? For else my feeble vessel crazed and cracked, through thy strong buffets and outrageous blows, cannot endure but needs it must be wracked, on the rough rocks, or on the sandy shallows, the wiles that love its steers and fortune rose. Love my lewd pirate hath a restless mind, and fortune boatswain no assurance knows, but sail without stars against tide and wind. How can they other do, sith both, or bold and blind? Thou, God of winds, that rainest in the seas, that rainest also in the continent, at last blow up some gentle gale of ease, the which may bring my ship ere it be rent unto the gladsome port of her intent. Then when I shall myself in safety see, a table for eternal monument of thy great grace and my great jeopardy, great Neptune, I of vow to hallow unto thee. Then sighing softly sore and inly deep, she shut up all her plaint in privy grief, for her great courage would not let her weep, till that old glousy gann with sharp reprieve her to restrain, and give her good relief, through hope of those which Merlin had her told should of her name and nation be chief, and fetch their being from the sacred mold of her immortal womb, to be in heaven enrolled. Thus as she her reconforted, she spied where far away worn all in armor bright, with hasty gallop towards her did ride. Her dollar soon she ceased, and on her diet her helmet to her coarser mounting light. Her former sorrow unto sudden wrath, both cousin passions of distroubled sprite, converting. Forth she beats the dusty path, love in despite at once her courage kindled hath. As when a foggy mist hath overcast the face of heaven, and the clear air engrossed, the world in darkness dwells, till that it last the watery south wind, from the seaboard coast up blowing, doth disperse the vapor lost, and pours itself forth in a stormy shower. So the fair Britomart, having disclosed her cloudy care into a wrathful stour, the mist of grief dissolved, did into vengeance power. That soons her goodly shield addressing fair, that mortal spear she in her hand did take, and unto battle did herself prepare, the night approaching sternly her bespake. Sir Knight, that dust thy voyage rashly make by this forbidden way in my despite, nay dust by others death in sample take, I read thee soon retire, whilst thou hast might, least afterwards it be too late to take thy flight. A thrilled with deep disdain of his proud threat she, shortly thus, fly they that need to fly, words fearing babes, I mean not thee in treat to pass, but mow gray thee will pass or die. Nay longer stayed for a thither to reply, but with sharp spear the rest made dearly known. Strongly the strange knight ran, and sturdily struck her full on the breast, that made her down decline her head, and touch her cropper with her crown. But she again him in the shield did smite, with so fierce fury, and great poisons, and through his three-square scuchins piercing quite, and through his mailed harbourk by mischance the wicked steel through his left side did glance. Him so transfixed she before her bore, beyond his croop the length of all her lands, to sadly sows him on the sandy shore, he tumbled on an heap and wallowed in his gore. Like as the sacred ox that careless stands, with gilden horns and flowery girlens crowned, proud of his dying honour and dear bands, while the altars fume with frankincense around, all suddenly with mortal stroke astound, just groveling fall and with his steaming gore disdains the pillars, and the holy ground, and the fair flowers that decked him afore. So fell proud Maranel upon the precious shore. The marshal maid stayed not him to lament, but forward rode and kept her ready way, along the stronde, which as she overwent she saw bestowed, all with rich array of pearls, and precious stones of great assay, and all the gravel mixed with golden ore, whereet she wondered much, but would not stay, for gold or pearls or precious stones an hour, but them despised all for all was in her power. While thus he lay in deadly astonishment, tidings hereof came to his mother's ear. His mother was the black-browed simoent, the daughter of great Narius, which did bear this warlike sun unto an earthly peer, the famous deumarin, who on a day finding the nymph asleep in secret wear, as he by chance did wonder that same way was taken with her love, and by her closely lay. There he, this night of her begot, whom born she of his father Maranel did name, and in a rocky cave is white forlorn long time she fostered up, till he became a mighty man at arms, and Mikkel fame did get through great adventures by him done, for never man he suffered by that same rich stronde to travel, whereas he did one, but that he must do battle with the sea-nymph's son. And hundred nights of honorable name he had subdued, and them his vassals made, that through all fairy-land his noble fame, now blazed was and feared it all in vade, that none durced passin' through that perilous blade, and to advance his name and glory more. Per se, God, sire, she dearly did persuade to endow her son with treasure and rich store, above all the sons that were of earthly wombs, Ibar, that God did grant his daughter's dear demand to doin' his nephew in all riches flow, eft soonce his heaped waves he did command, out of their hollow bosom forth to throw all the huge treasure, and the which the sea-below had in his greedy gulf devoured deep, and him enriched through the overthrow and wrecks of many wretches, which did weep and often wail their wealth, which he from them did keep. Shortly upon that shore, their heap it was, exceeding riches and all precious things, the spoil of all the world that it did pass, the wealth of the east and pomp of Persian kings, gold, amber, ivory, pearls, ouches, rings, and all that else was precious and dear, the sea unto him voluntary brings, that shortly he, a great lord, did appear, as was in all the land of fairy or elsewhere, there too he was a doubt he dreaded night, tried often to the scathe of many dear, that none in equal arms him match in might, that which his mother seeing began to fear, least his too hearty hardiness might rear some hard mishap in danger of his life, for thy she oft him counseled to forbear the bloody battle into stirrup strife, but after all his war to rest his weary knife, and for his more assurance she inquired one day of Proteus by his mighty spell, for Proteus was with prophecy inspired, her dear son's destiny to her to tell, in the sad end of her sweet marinel, who through foresight of his eternal skill, bade her from womankind to keep him well, for of the woman he should have much ill, a virgin, strange, and stout, him should dismay or kill, for thy she gave him warning every day, the love of women not to entertain, a lesson too too hard for living clay, from love in course of nature to refrain, yet he his mother's lore did well retain, and ever from fair ladies love did fly, yet many ladies fair did oft complain, that they for love of him would all gates die, die, who so list for him he was love's enemy, but ah, who can deceive his destiny, or wean by warning to avoid his fate, that when he sleeps in most security and safest seams, him soonest doth amate, and findeth due effect, or soon or late, so feeble is the power of fleshly arm, his mother bade him women's love to hate, for she of women's force did fear no harm, so weaning to have armed him, she did quite disarm. This was that woman, this that deadly wound, that Proteus prophesied should him dismay, the which his mother vainly did expound to be heart wounding love, which should I say to bring her son unto his last decay, so tickle be the terms of mortal state, and full of subtle sophisms, which to play with double senses and with false debate, to prove the unknown purpose of eternal fate, to true the famous Maranellet found, who through late trial on that wealthy strand, inglorious now lies in senseless swooned, through heavy stroke of Brita Martis' hand, which when his mother dear did understand, and heavy tidings heard, whereas she played amongst her watery sisters by a pond, gathering sweet daffodilies to have made gay girlens from the sun their foreheads fair to shade. After soon's both flowers and girlens far away she flung, and her fair dewy loxy rent, to sorrow huge she turned her former play, and games of mirth to grievous dreariment, she threw herself down on the continent, nayward did speak but lay as in a swoon, whilst all her sisters did for her lament with yelling out cries and with shrieking sound, and everyone did tear her girlen from her crown. Soon as she up out of her deadly fit arose, she battered chariot to be brought, and all her sisters that with her did sit, bad ache at once their chariots to be sought, though full of bitter grief and pensive thought, she to her wagon clom, clom all the rest, and forth together went with sorrow fraught, the waves obedient to their behest, them yielded ready passage, and their rage surceased. Great Neptune stood amazed at their sight, whilst on his broad round back they softly slid, and ache himself mourn at their mournful plight, yet whisked not what their wailing meant, yet did, for great compassion of their sorrow bid, his mighty waters to them buxom be. After soon's the roaring billows still abid, and all the greasely monsters of the sea stood gaping at their gate, and wondered them to see. A team of dolphins ranged in array, drew the smooth chariot of sad simoent. They were all taught by Triton to obey, to the long reigns at her commandment, as swift as swallows on the ways they went. That their broad, flaggy fins, no foam did rear, nay bubbling roundel they behind them sent, the rest of other fishes draw in were, which, with their finny oars, the swelling sea did shear. Soon as they'd been arrived upon the brim of the rich strand, their chariots they forlore, and let their team and fishes softly swim along the margin of the foamy shore. Least they their finny's should bruise and surbate soar, their tender feet upon the stony ground. And coming to the place where all engore and cruddy blood, enwallowed they found the luckless maranel, lying in deadly swooned. His mother swooned three thrice, and a third time could scarce recovered be out of her pain. Had she not been devoid of mortal slime, she should not then have been relieved again. But soon as life recovered had the rain, she made so piteous moan and dear wainment, that the hard rocks could scarce from tears refrain, and all her sisters' nymphs, with one consent, supplied her sobbing breeches with sad compliment. Dear image of myself, she said, that is the wretched son of wretched mother born, is this thine high advancement? Oh, is this the immortal name with which the yet unborn thy grand sire, ne'erious promised to adorn? Now liest thou of life and honor reft, now liest thou a lump of earth forlorn? Nay, of thy late life memory is left, nay, can thy irrevocable destiny be weft? Fond Proteus, father of false prophecies, and they more fond that credit to thee give, not this the work of woman's hand, he whist, that so deep wound through these dear members dry. I feared love, but they that love do live, but they that die do neither love nor hate. Nay, the less to thee thy folly I forgive, and to myself and to accursed fate, the guilt I do ascribe. Dear whist bought too late. Oh, what avails it of immortal seed to be ne'erbred and never born to die? Far better I it deemed to die with speed, than waste in woe and waleful misery, who dies the utmost dollar doth abide, but who that lives is left to wail his loss, so life is loss and death felicity. Sad life worse than glad death and greater cross to see friends grave, them dead the grave self to engross. But if the heavens did his days envy, and my short gliss malign, yet moat they well thus much afford me, ere that he did die, that the dim eyes of my dear Maranel, I moat have closed and him bed farewell. Sith other offices for mother meet, they would not grant, yet mulgrei them farewell, my sweetest sweet, farewell my sweetest son, sith we no more shall meet. Thus when they all had sorrowed their fill, they softly began to search his grizzly wound, and that they might him handle more at will, they him disarmed and spreading on the ground their watchet mantles fringed with silver round. They softly wiped away the jelly blood from the orifice, which, having well up bound, they poured in sovereign balm and nectar good, good both for earthly medicine and for heavenly food. Though when the lily handed Lyagore, this Lyagore who alone had learned skill, in leeches craft, by great Apollo's lore, sith her quillone upon high Pindas Hill, he loved, and at last her wound did fill with heavenly seed, whereof wise Peon sprung, did feel his pulse, she knew their stead still. Some little life his feeble sprites among, which to his mother told, despair she from her flung. Though up him taking in their tender hands, they easily unto her chariot bear, her team at her commandment quiet stands, while they the course into her wagon-rear and strove with flowers the lamentable bear. Then all the rest into their coach's clen, and through the brackish waves their passage shear, upon great Neptune's neck they softly swim, and to her watery chamber swiftly carry him. Deep in the bottom of the sea, her bower is built of hollow billows heaped high, like two thick clouds that threat a stormy shower, and voted all within, like to the sky in which the gods do dwell eternally. There they laid him in easy couch well-dite, and sent in haste for trifon to apply salves to his wounds in medicines of might, for trifon of sea-gods the sovereign leech is height. The wiles the nymphs sit all about him round, lamenting his mishap, and heavy plight, and off his mother viewing his wide wound, cursed the hand that did so deadly smite her dearest son, her dearest heart's delight. But none of all those curses overtook the warlike maid in sample of that might but fairly well she thrived, and well did brook her noble deeds, may her ride course for art for soon. Yet it did false archimage her still pursue to bring to pass his mischievous intent. Now that he had her singled from the crew of courteous knights, the prince and fairy gint, whom late in chase of beauty excellent she left, pursuing that same foster strong of whose foul outrage they impatient, and full of fiery zeal him followed long, to rescue her from shame, and to revenge her wrong, through thick and thin, through mountains and through plains. Those two great champions did at once pursue the fearful damsel, with incessant pains, who from them fled as light-foot hair from view of hunter swift, and scent of hounds true. At last they came unto a double way where doubtful which to take, her to rescue, themselves they did dispart, each to assay, whether more happy were to win, so goodly pray. But timious the prince's gentle squire, that ladies' love unto his lord forlent, and with proud envy and indignant ire, after that wicked foster fiercely went, so being they three, three sundry ways he bent, but fairest fortune to the prince befell, whose chance it was that soon he did repent to take that way, in which that damsel was fled and therefore afraid of him as fiend of hell. At last of her far off he gained it view, then again he freshly prick his foamy steed, and ever as he nire to her drew, so evermore he did increase his speed, and of each turning still kept wary heed. Allowed to her he oftentimes did call, to do away vain doubt and needless dread. Full mild to her he spake, and off let fall many meek words, to stay and comfort her with all. But nothing might relent her hasty flight, so deep the deadly fear of that foul swaying was erst impressed in her gentle sprite, like is a fearful dove, which through the rain of the wide air her way does cut amane, having far off aspired a tassel jent, which after her his nimble wings doth strain, dubleth her haste for fear to be for hint, and with opinions cleaves the liquid firmament, with no less haste and ache with no less dread. That fearful lady fled from him, that meant to her no evil thought, nor evil deed. Yet former fear of being foully shunned carried her forward with her first intent, and though off looking backward well she viewed, herself freed from that foster insolent, and that it was a night which now pursued. Yet she no less the night feared than that villain rude. His uncouth shield and strange arms, her dismayed, whose like in fairyland were seldom seen, that fast she from him fled no less afraid than of wild beasts, if she had chastened being. Yet he, her followed still with courage keen, so long that now the golden hesperous was mounted high in top of heaven sheen, and warned his other brethren joyous to light their blessed lamps in Job's eternal house. All suddenly dim walks the dampish air and grisly shadows covered heaven bright, that now with thousand stars was decadent fair, which, when the prince beheld, a loathful sight, and that perforce, for want of longer light, he moat surceases suit, and lose the hope of his long labor. He again foully white his wicked fortune, that it turned a slow and cursed night that reft from him so goodly scope. Though when her ways he could no more describe, but to and fro at disaventure strayed, like as a ship whose load star suddenly covered with clouds, her pilot hath dismayed, his wirrisome pursuit perforce he stayed, and from his lofty steed, dismounting low, did let him forage, down himself he laid upon the grassy ground, to sleep a throw, the cold earth was his couch, the heart steeled his pillow. But a gentle sleep envied him any rest, instead thereof sad sorrow, and disdain of his hard hap did vex his noble breast, and thousand fancies bet his idle brain, with their light wings, the sights of semblance vain. Oft did he wish that Lady Fair moat be his fairy queen, for whom he did complain, for whom he did complain, or that his fairy queen were such as she, and ever hasty night he blamed bitterly. Night thou foul mother of annoyance sad, sister of heavy death and nurse of woe, which was to begot in heaven, but for thy bad and brutish shape thrust down to hell below, whereby the grim flood of cockatoo's slow, thy dwelling is, in heribus black house, black heribus, thy husband is the foe of all the gods, where thou, ungracious half of thy days, dost lead in horror hideous. What had the eternal maker need of thee, the world in his continual course to keep, that dost all things deface, and let us see the beauty of his work? Indeed in sleep, the slothful body that dost love to steep, his lustless limbs and drown his baser mind, dost praise thee oft, and oft from Stygian deep calls thee, his goddess in his error blind, and great dame nature's handmaid, cheering every kind. But, well, I vote, that to an heavy heart thou art the root and nurse of bitter cares, breeder of new, renewer of old smarts, instead of rest thou lindest railing tears, instead of sleep thou sindest troubleous fears, and dreadful visions, in which, alive, the dreary image of sad death appears, so from the weary spirit, thou dost drive desired rest, and men of happiness deprive. Under thy mantle black there hidden lie light shunning theft, and traitorous intent, abhorred bloodshed, and vile felony, shameful deceit, and danger imminent, foul horror, and achelish dreariment, all these I vote, in thy protection be, and light do shun, for fear of being shunned, for light alike is loathed of them and thee, and all that lewdness love do hate the light to see. For day discovers all dishonest ways and sureth each thing, as it is indeed, the praises of high God, he fair displays, and his large bounty rightly doth read. Days, dearest children, be the blessed seed, which darkness shall subdue and heaven win, truth is his daughter. He, her first, did breed most sacred virgin, without spot of sin. Our life is day, but death with darkness doth begin. Oh, when will day then turn to me again, and bring with him his long expected light? Oh, Titan, haste to rear thy joyous wane, speed thee to spread abroad thy beams bright, and chase away this too long lingering night. Chase her away. From whence she came, to hell, she she it is that hath meet done despite, there let her with the damned spirits dwell, and yield her room to day, that can it govern well. Thus did the prince, that weary night out where, in restless anguish and unquiet pain, and early ere the morrow did up rear, his dewy head out of the ocean main, he up rose as half in great disdain and clone unto his steed. So forth he went, with heavy look and lumpish pace, that plain in him beraid great grudgeoned mal-talent. His steed ache seemed to apply his steps to his intent. End of book three, the legend of Brito Martis, R. of Chastity. The Fairy Queen by Edmund Spencer. Book three, the legend of Brito Martis. Canto five. Prince Arthur hears a florimel. Three fosters timious wound. Belfiby finds him almost dead and reareth out of sound. Wonder it is to see in diverse minds how diversely loved doth his pageant's play, and shows his power in variable kinds. The baser-wit, whose idle thoughts all the way are want to cleave unto the lowly clay. It stireth up to sensual desire, and in lewd sloth to waste his careless day. But in brave sprite it kindles goodly fire, that to all high desert in honor doth aspire. They suffereth it uncomely idleness, in his free thought to build her sluggish nest. Nes suffereth it thought of unkindleness, ever to creep into his noble breast. But to the highest, and the worthiest, lifteth it up, that else would lowly fall. It lets not fall. It lets it not to rest. It lets not scarce this prince to breathe at all. But to his first pursuit, him forward, still doth call. Who long time wandered through the forest wide to find some issue-thins, till that at last he met a dwarf that seemed terrified with some late peril, which he hardly passed, or other accident which him aghast, of whom he asked, which he lately came, and whither now he traveled so fast. For sore he swat, and running through the same thick forest was bescratched, and both his feet nigh lame. Panting for breath, and almost out of heart, the dwarf him answered, Sir, ill moat, I stay to tell the same. I lately did depart from Fairy Court, where I have many a day served a gentle lady of great sway. And Hyacont, throughout all Elfin land, who lately left the same, and took this away. Her now I seek, and if ye understand which way she faireth hath, could Sir tell out of hand. What Mr. White, said he, and how I raid? Fairly clad, quote he, in cloth of gold, as meatest may be seen, a noble maid, her fairer loggies, in rich circlet be enrolled. A fairer White did never son, behold. And on a palfry rides more White than snow. Yet she herself is White her manifold. The surest sign, whereby ye may her know, is that she is fairest White alive, I trove. Now, Sirtee's swain, said he, such one I wean, flying fast, through this forest from her foe, a foul, ill-favored foster, I have seen. Herself, well as I might, I rescued, though, but could not stay, so fast she did forgo, carried away with wings of speedy fear. Ah, dearest God, quote he, that is great woe. And wondrous Ruth to all, that shall it hear. But can ye read, sir, how I may find her, or where? Pair thee, me, laver, where to wait in that, said he, then ransom of the richest night, or all the good that ever yet I got. But froward fortune, and too farward night, such happiness did, more gray, to me spite, and fro me ref'd both life and light atone. But dwarf, a read, what is that Lady Bright said, through this forest wondrous thus alone? For of her error strange, I have great Ruth and Moan. That Lady is, quote he, where so she be, the boundiest virgin, and most debonair, that ever living I, I, Wayne, did see, lives none this day that may with her compare instead fast chastity and virtue rare, the goodly ornaments of beauty bright. And as it cleaped, Florimel, the fair, fair Florimel, beloved of many a night, yet she loves none but one, that Maranel is height. A cenymph's son, that Maranel is height, of my dear dame, is loved dearly well. In other none but him, she sets delight. All her delight is set on Maranel. But he sets not at all by Florimel, for ladies love his mother long ago, did him, they say, forewarn, through sacred spell. But fame now flies, that of a foreign foe, he is a slain, which is the ground of all our woe. Five days there be since he, they say, was slain, and four since Florimel the court forewent, and vowed never to return again, till him alive or dead she did invent, therefore fair, sir, for love of knighthood gent, and honor of true ladies. If you may, by your good counsel, or bold hardiment, or succour her, or me direct to the way, do one or other good, I, you, most humbly pray. So may ye gain, to your full great renown, of all good ladies through the world so wide, and happily in her heart find highest realm, of whom ye seek to be most magnified, at least eternal mead, shall you abide, to whom the prince, dwarf, comfort to the take, for till thou tidings learn, what her betide, I hear a vow thee never to forsake, ill wears he armors, that nil them use for ladies' sake. So with the dwarf he backer returned again to seek his lady, where he moat her find. But by the way he greatly again complained the want of his good squire laid left behind, for whom he wondrous pensive grew in mind, for doubt of danger, which moat him betide, for him he loved above all mankind, having him true and faithful ever tried, and bold is ever squire that waited by night's side. Who all this while full heart he was assayed of deadly danger, which to him betide, for while his lord pursued that noble maid, after that foster foul he fiercely rid, to be ne'ving of the shame he did to that fair damsel. Him he chased long through the thick woods, wherein he would have hid his shameful head from his avengement strong, and oft him threatened death for his outrageous wrong. Nay, at last the villain spitted himself so well, whether through swiftness of his speedy beast, or knowledge of these woods, where he did dwell, that shortly he from danger was released, and out of sight escaped at the least, yet not escaped from the due reward of his bad deeds, which daily he increased. Nay ceased not, till him oppressed hard the heavy plague, that for such lechers is prepared, for soon as he was vanished out of sight, his coward courage began emboldened be, and cast to vinge him of that foul despite, which he had borne of his bold enemy, though to his brethren came. For there were three ungracious children of one graceless sire, and unto them complained how that he had used being of that foolhardy squire. So them with bitter words he stirred to bloody ire. Forth with themselves, with their sad instruments of spoil and murder, they again armed believeth, and with him forth into the forest went to rake the wrath, which he did erst revive, in their stern breasts, on him which late did drive their brother to reproach and shameful flight. For they had vowed that never he alive out of that forest should escape their might. Vile ranker their rude hearts had filled with such despite. Within that wood there was a covered glade, for by a narrow ford to them well known, through which it was uneath for white to wade, and now, by fortune it was overflown, by that same way they knew that squire unknown moat all gates pass. For thine themselves they set there in a wade with thicker woods overgrown, and all the while their malice stated wet with cruel threats his passage through the ford to let. It fortuned as they devised it had. The gentle squire came riding that same way, unwitting of their wild and treason bad. And through the ford to pass and did assay, but that fierce foster, which late fled away, stoutly forthstepping on the further shore, him boldly bade his passage there to stay, till he had made amends, and full restore for all the damage which he had him done afore. With that, at him a quivering dart he threw, with so-fell force in villainous despite, that through his haberian the forkhead flew, and through the link it mails in pierced quite, but had no power in his soft flesh to bite. That stroke, the hardy squire did soar displease, but more that him he could not come to smite, or by no means the high banker he could seize her, but laboured long in that deeper ford with vain disease, and still the foster with his long bore spear, him kept from landing at his wished will. Anon, one sent out of the thicket near a cruel shaft, headed with deadly ill, and feathered with an unlucky quill. The wicked steel stayed not till it did light in his left thigh, and deeply did it thrill, exceeding grief that wound in him in spite, but more that with his foes he could not come to fight. At last, through wrath and vengeance making way, he on the bank arrived with middle pain, where the third brother him did soar assay, and drove at him with all his might and mane, a forest bill, which both his hands did strain, but wherely he did avoid the blow, and with his spear requited him again. That at both his sides were thrilled with the throw, and a large stream of blood out of the wound did flow. He, tumbling down with gnashing teeth, did bite the bitter earth, and abad to let him in, into the baleful house of endless night, where wicked ghosts do wail their former sin. Though again the battle freshly to begin, for neither more, for that spectacle bad, did the other two their cruel vengeance blend, but both the taunts on both sides him bestowed, and loathe upon him laid his life, for to have had. Though when that villain he advised, which laid afright it had the fairest florimel, full of fierce fury, and indignant hate, to him he turned, and with rigor fell, smote him so rudely on the panicle, that to the chin he cleft his head in twain. Down on the ground his carcass groveling fell, his sinful soul with desperate disdain, out of her fleshly firm, fled to the place of pain. That seeing now the only last of three, who with that wicked shaft him wounded had, trembling with horror, as that did foresee the fearful end of his avengement sad, through which he vollowed should his brethren bad, his bootless bow and feeble hand up-caught, and therewith shot an arrow at the lad, which faintly fluttering scares his helmet wrought, and glancing fell to ground, but him annoyed not. With that he would have fled into the wood, but timious him lightly overhint, rightly as he entering was into the flood, and struck him with the force so violent that headless him into the ford he sent. The carcass with the stream was carried down, but the head fell backward on the continent. So mischief fell upon the meaner's crown. They three be dead with shame, the squire lives with renown. He lives but takes small joy of his renown, for of that cruel wound he bled so sore that from his steed he fell in deadly swoon. Yet still the blood forthgushed in so great store that he lay wallowed all in his own gore. Now God, thee keep thou gentlest squire alive, else shall thy loving Lord thee see no more. But both of comfort him thou shall deprive, and ache thyself of honor, which thou didst achieve. Providence heavenly passeth, living thought, in doth for wretched men's relief make way, for lo, great grace our fortune thither brought comfort to him, that comfortless now lay. In those same woods he well remember may, how a noble huntress did one. She, that base braggadocio did a fray, and made him fast out of the forest run. Belle Phoebe was her names, as fair as Phoebus' son. She, on a day as she pursued the chase of some wild beast, which with her arrows keen she wounded had, the same along did trace by a tract of blood, which she had freshly seen, to have sprinkled all the grassy green. By the great pursue which she had there perceived, well hoped she, the beast in gourd had been, and made more haste the life to have bereaved, but all her expectation greatly was deceived. Shortly she came, whereas that woeful squire with blood deformed, lay in deadly swoon, in whose fair eyes, like lamps of quinched fire, the crystal humor stood congealed round. His locks, like faded leaves, fallen to ground, knotted with blood, in bunches rudely ran, and his sweet lips on which before that stoned the bud of youth to blossom fair began. Spoiled of their rosy red were wakson pale and won, so a never-living eye, more heavy sight, that could have made a rock of stone to rue, or rive in twain, which when that lady bright besides all hope with melting eyes did view, all said in ne'erbashed she changed cue. And with stern horror backward began to start, but when she better him beheld, she grew full of soft passion and unwanted smart, the point of pity pierced through her tender heart. Makely she bowed down to wait if life, yet in his frozen members did remain, and feeling by his pulses beating rife, that the weak soul her seated did yet retain. She cast to comfort him with busy pain. His double-folded neck she reared upright, and rubbed his temples and each trembling vein. His mailed herbarian, she did undight, and from his head his heavy burgannette did light. Into the woods, thinceforth in haste, she went to seek for herbs, that moat him remedy, for she of herbs had great intendement, taught of the nymph, which from her infancy her nursed had in true nobility. There, whether it divine tobacco were, or panachea or polygony, she found and brought it to her patient dear, who all this while lay bleeding out his heart blood near. The sovereign weed betwixt two marbles plain, she pounded small and did in pieces bruise, and then between her lily-hands twain, into his wound the juicer of his grooves, and round about as she could well it use, the flesh therewith she suppled, and did steep, to bait all spasm, and soak the swelling bruise. And after having searched the intused deep, she with her scarf did bind the wound from coal to keep. By this he had sweet life recured again, and groaning inly deep, at last his eyes, his watery eyes drizzling like dewy rain, he again lift toward the azure skies, from whence descend all hopeless remedies. Therewith he sighed, and turning him aside the goodly maid full of divinities, and gifts of heavenly grace, he by him spied, her bow and gilden quiver lying him beside. Mercy, dear Lord, said he, what grace is this that thou hast showed to me sinful white, to send thine angel from her bower of bliss to comfort me in my distressed plight? Angel, or goddess, do I call thee right? What service may I do unto thee, meat that hast from darkness me returned to light? And with thy heavenly salves and meds and sweet has dressed my sinful wounds, I kiss thy blessed feet. Theret she blushing said, Ah, gentle squire, nor goddess I, nor angel, but the maid and daughter of the woody nymph, desire no service, but thy safety and aid, which if thou gain I shall be well appaid. We mortal whites whose lives and fortunes be, to common accidents, still open-laid, are bound with common bond of frailty, to sucker wretched whites whom we captived see. By this are damsels, which the former chase had undertaken after her arrived, as did Belfibe in the bloody place, and thereby deemed the beast had been deprived of life, whom late their ladies arrow-rived. For thy, the bloody trap they followed fast, and every one to run, the swiftest strived, but two of them the rest far are over-past, and where their lady was arrived at last, where, when they saw that goodly boy with blood defiled, and their lady draped his wound, they wondered much and shortly understood how him in deadly case their lady found, and rescued, out of the heavy-stound, effed soonce his war-like coarser, which was strayed far in the woods, while that he lay ensworned. She made those damsels search, which, being stayed, they did him set thereon, and forthwith them conveyed. Into that forest far they thins him led, where was their dwelling, in a pleasant glade, with mountains round about environed, and mighty woods which did the valley shade, and like a stately theatre it made. Spreading itself into a spacious plain, and in the midst a little river-played, amongst the peomy stones which seemed to plain, with gentle murmur, that his course they did restrain. Beside the same a dainty place there lay, planted with myrtle trees and laurels green, in which the birds song many a lovely lay of God's high praise, and of their love's sweet teen, as it an earthly paradise had been, in whose enclosed shadow there was pite, a fair pavilion scarcely to be seen, the which was all within most richly dite, that greatest prince's living it moat well delight. Thither they brought that wounded squire, and laid in easy couch his feeble limbs to rest. He rested him a while, and then the maid his ready wound with better selves, new dressed. Daily she dressed him, and did the best his grievous hurt to garish, that shortly she, his duller hath redressed, and his foul sore reduced to fair plight. It she reduced, but himself destroyed quite. Oh, foolish physic, and unfruitful pain, that heals up one, and makes another wound. She his hurt thigh to him recured again, but hurt his heart, the which before was sound, through an unwary dart which did rebound from her fair eyes, and gracious countenance, what bootstead him from death to be unbound, to be captive in endless durance, of sorrow, and despair without allegiance. Still as his wound did gather, and grow whole, so still his heart walks sore, and health decayed, madness to save apart and lose the whole, still when as he beheld the heavenly maid, whilst daily plasters to his wound she laid, so still his malady the more increased, the wiles her matchless beauty him dismayed. Ah, God, what other could he do at least, but love so fair a lady, that his life released? Long while he strove in his courageous breast, with reason due the passion to subdue, and love for to dislodge out of his nest, still when her excellencies heeded view, her sovereign bounty and celestial hue, the same to love he strongly was constrained, but when his mean estate he did review, he from such hardy boldness was restrained, and of his luckless lot in cruel love thus plain. Unthankful wretch said he, is this the mead, with which her sovereign mercy thou dost quite, thy life she saved by her gracious deed, but thou dost wean with villainous despite to blot her on her, and her heavenly light, die, rather die. Then so disloyaly deem of her high dessert, or seem so light, fair death it is to shun more shame to die, die, rather die, than ever love disloyaly. But if to love disloyalty it be, shall I then hate her, that from death's door me brought, ah, far be such reproach for me, what can I less do than her love therefore, since thy due reward cannot restore, die, rather die, and dying do her serve, dying her serve, and living her adore. Thy life she gave, thy life she doth deserve, die, rather die, than ever from her service swerve. But foolish boy, what boots thy service base to her, to whom the heavens do serve and sue, thou a mean squire of meek and lowly place, she heavenly born, and of celestial hue, how then, of all love, takeeth equal view, and doth not highest God vouchsafe to take the love and service of the basest crew, if she will not die meekly for her sake, die, rather die, than ever so fair love for sake. Thus worried he long time against his will, till that through weakness he was forced at last to yield himself unto the mighty ill, which, as a victor proud, again ransacked fast his inward parts and all his entrails waste, that neither blood in face nor life in heart it left, but both did quite dry up and a blast, as piercing leaven, which the inner part of everything consumes, and calcinth by art, which, seeing farewell Phoebe, gained a fear, less that his wound were inly well not healed, or that the wicked steel in poisoned were, little she weaned, that love he close conceal it, yet still he wasted as the snow congealed. When the bright sun his beams thereon doth beat, yet never he his heart to her reveal it, but rather chose to die for sorrow great, than with dishonorable terms her to entreat. She, gracious lady, yet no pains did spare to do him ease, or do him remedy, many restoratives of virtue's rare and costly cordials, she did apply to mitigate his stubborn malady. But that sweet cordial which can restore a love-sick heart she did to him envy, to him and to all the unworthy world forlore, she did envy that sovereign salve in secret store. That dainty rose, the daughter of her mourn, more dear than life she tended, whose flower the girl and of her honor did adorn. Nay, suffer she, the midday scorching power, nay, the sharp northern wind thereon to shower, but lapped up her silken leaves, most chair. When so the froward sky began to lower, but soon as conned was the crystal air, she did it fair to spread and let to flourish fair. Eternal God in his almighty power to make in sample of his heavenly grace, in paradise we long did plant this flower, whence he it fetched out of her native place, and did in stock of earthly flesh in race. That mortal men her glory should admire, in gentle ladies' breast and bountious race of womankind, his fairest flower doth aspire, and beareth fruit of honor and all chaste desire, fair imps of beauty, whose bright shining beams adorn the world with like to heavenly light, and to your wills both royalties and realms subdued. Through conquest of your wondrous might, with this fair flower your goodly girlens tight, of chastity and virtue virginal, that shall embellish more your beauty bright, and crown your heads with heavenly coronal, such as the angels wear before the gods tribunal. To your fair selves a fair in sample frame, of this fair virgin, this belfibi faire, to whom in perfect love and spotless fame of chastity none living may compare, near poisonous envy justly can impair the praise of her flesh-flowering maiden head, for thy she standeth on the highest stair of the honorable stage of woman head, that ladies all may follow her in sample did. In so great praise of steadfast chastity, nevertheless she was so courteous and kind, tempered with grace and goodly modesty, that seemed those virtues strove to find, the higher place in her heroic mind. So striving each did other more augment, and both increased the praise of woman kind, and both increased her beauty excellent. So all did make in her a perfect compliment. End of Canto 5, Book 3, The Fairy Queen by Edmund Spencer. Book 3, Canto 6, The Legend of Britomartis. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org, recording by Alan Brown. The Fairy Queen by Edmund Spencer. Book 3, The Legend of Britomartis. Canto 6, The Birth of Fair Belphibi. End of Amoret is told. The gardens of Adonis fraught with pleasures manifold. Well, may I wean, a fair ladies, all this while you wonder how this noble Damusel, so great perfections did in her compile, Sith that in salvage forests she did dwell, so far from court and royal citadel. The great school mistress of all courtesy, seemeth that such wild woods should far expel all civil usage and gentility, and gentle sprite deform with rusticity. But to this fair Belphibi in her birth, the heavens so favorable were and free, looking with mild aspect upon the earth, in the horoscope of her nativity, that all the gifts of grace and chastity on her they poured forth of plenteous horn. Jove laughed on Venus from his sovereign sea, and Phoebus with fair beams did her adorna, and all the graces rocked her cradle being born. Her birth was of the womb of morning dew, and her conception of the joyous prime, and all her whole creation did her shoe pure and unspotted from all earthly crime, that is, in generate, in fleshly slime. So was this virgin born, so was she bred, so was she trained up from time to time in all chaste virtue and true bounty-head, till to her dew perfection she was ripened. Her mother was the fair Christsogony, the daughter of Amphisa, who by race a fairy was, ye born of high degree. She bore Belphibi, she bore in like case fair Amoreta, in the second place. These two were twinners, and Twix them, too, did share the heritage of all celestial grace, that all the rest it seemed they robbed bear of bounty and of beauty and all virtues rare. It were a goodly story to declare, by which strange accident fair Christsogony conceived these infants, and how them she bear, in this wild forest wandering all alone, after she had nine months fulfilled and gone, for not as other women's commune brood, they were enwound in the sacred throne of her chaste body, nor with commune food as other women's babes, they sucked vital blood. But wondrously they were begot and bred, through influence of the heavens fruitful ray, as it in antique book is mentioned, it was upon a summer's shiny day, when Titan fair his beams did display, in a fresh fountain, far from all men's view, she bathed her breast, the boiling heat to lay. She bathed with roses red and violets blue, and all the sweetest flowers that in the forest grew, till faint, through irksome weariness, a down upon the grassy ground, herself she laid to sleep. The wiles a gentle slumbering swoon upon her fell all naked bear displayed. The sun-a-beam as bright upon her body played, being through former bathing mollified, and pierced into her womb, where they imbued with so sweet sense and secret power unspite, that in her pregnant flesh they shortly fruptified. Miraculous may seem to him that read is so strange in sample of conception, but reason teaches that the fruitful seeds of all things living, through impression of the sunbeams in moist complexion, do life conceive and quickened are by kind. So after niless inundation, infinite shapes of creatures men do find, informed in the mud on which the sun a hath shined. Great father Hay of generation is rightly called the author of life and light, and his fair sister for creation, ministereth matter fit, which tempered right with heat and humor breedeth the living white. So sprung these twins in womb of chrisogony, yet wished she not thereof, but saw a fright, wondered to see her belly so upblown, which still increased till she, her term, had full outgone. Whereof conceiving shame and full disgrace, are by her guiltless conscience her cleared, she fled into the wilderness of space, till that unwieldy burden she had reared, and shunt dishonor, which is death she feared, where weary of long travel down to rest herself she set, uncomfortably cheered, there a sad clode of sleep her overcast, and seized every sense with sorrow sore oppressed. It fortune'd fair Venus having lost her little sonna, the winged god of love, who for some light displeasure, which him crossed, was from her fled, as flit is airy dove, and left her blissful bower of joy above. So from her often he had fled away, when she for ought him sharply did reproof, and wandered in the world in strange array, disguised in thousand shapes that none might him be ray. Him for to seek she left her heavenly house, the house of a goodly form is in fair respects. Whence all the world derives the glorious features of beauty, and all shapes select, with which high God his workmanship hath decked, and searched every way, through which his wings had borne him, or his tract she might detect. She promised kisses sweet, and sweeter things unto the man that of him tidings to her brings. First she him sought in court, where most he used will on to haunt. But there she found him not. But many there she found, which sore accused his falsehood, and with foul infamous blood his cruel deeds and wicked wiles did spot. Ladies and lords she everywhere mocked here, complaining, how with his empoison shot their woeful hearts he wounded, head willier. And so had left them languishing, twixed hope and fear. She then the city sought from gate to gate, and everyone did ask, did he him see, and everyone her answered, that too late he had him seen, and felt the cruelty of his sharper darts, and what artillery, and everyone through forth reproaches rife, of his mischievous deeds, and said that he was the disturber of all civil life, the enemy of peace, and the author of all strife. Then in the country she abroad him sought, and in the rural cottages inquired, where also many planes to her were brought, how he their heedless hearts with love had fired. And his false venom through their veins inspired, in the ache the gentle shepherd's swains, which sat, keeping their fleecy flocks, as they were hired, she sweetly heard complain, both how and what, her son had to them done, yet she did smile their at. But when in none of all these she him got, she gain a vice, where else he might him hide, at last she here bethought, that she had not yet sought the salvage woods and forests wide, in which full many lovely nymphs abide, amongst whom might be that he did closely lie, or that the love of some of them him tide. For thy she thither cast her course to apply, to search the secret haunts of Diane's company. Shortly unto the wasteful woods she came, whereas she found the goddess with her crew. After late chase of there in brewed game, sitting beside a fountain in a rue, some of them washing with the liquid dew, from off their dainty limbs the dusty sweat, and soil which did deform their lively hue. Others lay shaded from the scorching heat. The rest upon her person gave attendance great. She, having hung upon a bow on high her bow and painted quiver, had unlaced her silver buskins from her nimble thigh, and her lanker loins ungirt in breasts unbraced. After her heat the breathing cold to taste, her golden locks, that latent tresses bright in breaded were for hindering of her haste. Now loose upon her shoulders hung undight, and were with sweet ambrosia all besprinkled light. Soon as she venus saw behind her back, she was ashamed to be so loose surprised, and walks half wroth against her damsel slack, that had not her thereof before avised, but suffered her so carelessly disguised be overtaken. Soon her garments loose up-gathering in her bosom she comprised, well as she might, unto the goddess rose, whilst all her nymphs did like a girland, her in clothes. Goodly she gone fair, Sitheria greet, and shortly asked her what cause her brought into that wilderness for her unmeat, from her sweet bowers in beds with pleasures fraught, that sudden change she strange adventure thought, to whom half weeping she thus answered, that she her dearest son Cupido sought, who with his frowardness from her was fled, that she repented sore to have him angered. There at Diane again to smile, in scorn of her vain plaint, and to her scoffing said, Great pity sure that you be so forlorn of your gay son, that gives you so good aid to your desports, ill multibana paid, but she was more engrieved and replied, Fair sister, ill be seems it to abrade a doleful heart, with so distainful pride, the like that mine may be your pain another tide. As you in woods and wanton wilderness your glory set, to chase the salvage beasts, so my delight is all in joyfulness, in beds, in bowers, in blankets, and in feasts, and ill becomes you with your lofty creasts, to scorn the joy, that Job is glad to seek. We both are bound to follow heaven's behests, and tend our charges with obeisance meek. Spare, gentle sister, with reproach my pain to Ika, and tell me if that ye my son have heard, to lurk amongst your nymphs in secret wise, or keep their cabins, much I am a feared, least he like one of them himself disguise, and turn his arrows to their exercise, so may he long himself full easy hide, for he is fair and fresh in face, and guys, as any nymph let not it be annoyed. So saying every nymph full narrowly she hide, but Phoebe therewith sore was angered, and sharply said, Go, Dame, go seek your boy, where you him lately left, in Mars his bed, he comes not here, we scorn his foolish joy, nor lend we leisure to his idle toy. But if I catch him in this company, by Stygian Lake, I vow, who sad annoy the gods do dread, he dearly shall abide, I'll clip his wanton wings, that he no more shall fly, whom, when his venus saw so sore displeased, she inly sorry was, in ganrelent, what she had said. So her she soon appeased, with sugared words in gentle blindishment, which as a fountain from her sweet lips went, and welled goodly forth, that in short space she was well pleased, and forth her damsels sent, through all the woods to search for place to place, if any tract of him or tidings they must trace, to search the god of love her nymphs she sent, throughout the wandering forest everywhere, and after them herself egg with her went, to seek the fugitive, both far and near, so long they sought, till they arrived where, in that same shady covert, where is lay fair chrysogony, in slumbery trunks with air, who in her sleep, a wondrous thing to say, unwares had borne two babes, as fair as springing day, unwares she then conceived, unwares she bore, she bore without in pain, that she conceived without in pleasure. Nay, her need implore Lucine's aid, which when they both perceived, they were through wonder nigh of sense bereaved, and gazing each on other, not bespake, at last they both agreed, her seeming grieved, out of her heavy swoon, not too awake, but from her loving side the tender babes to take. Up they them talker, each one a babe up tooker, and with them carried, to be fostered, dame Phoebe to a nymph her babe betook, to be up brought in perfect maiden head, and of herself her name Bel Phoebe read, but Venus, hers since far away conveyed, to be up brought in goodly woman head, and in her little love's stead, which was strayed, her amoretto called, to comfort her dismayed. She brought her to her joyous paradise, where most she wants, when she on earth does dwell, so fair a place as nature can devise, whether in Paphos or Scytheron Hill, or it in Gnidus B. I vote not well, but well I vote by trial, that this same, all other pleasant places doth excel, and call it, by her lost lover's name, the Garden of Adonis, far renowned by fame. In that same garden all the goodly flowers, wherewith dame nature, doth her beautify, and the dex the girlens of her paramours are fetched. There is the first seminary of all things, that are born to live and die, according to their kinds. Long work it were, here to account the endless progeny of all the weed is, that bud and blossom there, but so much as doth need, must needs be counted here. It sighted was in fruitful soil of old, and girt in, with two walls on either side, the one of iron, the other of bright gold, that none might thorough breaker, nor overstride, unto double gates it had, which opened wide, by which both in and out men molten past, the one fair and fresh, the other old and dried. Old genius the porter of them was, old genius the which a double nature has. He leteth in, he leteth out, to wend, all that to come into the world desire. A thousand thousand naked babes attend about him day and night, which do require that he with fleshly weedes would them attire. Such as him list, such as eternal fate, ordained hath he clothes with sinful mire, and sendeth forth to live in mortal state, till they again return aback by the hinder gate. After that they again return it being, they in that garden planted be again, and grow afresh, as they had never seen, fleshly corruption, nor mortal pain. Some thousand years so done they there remain, and then of him are clad with other hue, or sent into the chargeful world again, till thither they return where first they grew, so like a wheel around they run from old to new. Ne needs their gardener to set or so, to plant or prune, for of their own accord all things as they created were do grow, and yet remember well the mighty word, which first was spoken by the almighty Lord, that bade them to increase and multiply. Ne do they need with water of the Ford, or of the clouds to moisten their roots dry, for in themselves eternal moisture they imply. Infinite shapes of creatures there are bred, and uncouth forms, which none yet ever knew, and every sort is in a sundry bed set by itself and ranked in comely room. Some fit for reasonable souls tend you, some made for beasts, some made for birds to wear, and all the fruitful spawn of fish's hue in endless ranks along enranged were, that seemed the ocean could not contain them there. Daily they grow, and daily forth are sent into the world, it to replenish more, yet is the stock not lessened nor spent, but still remain as an everlasting store, as it at first created was of yore. For in the wide womb of the world there lies in hateful darkness, and in deep horror, and huge eternal chaos which supplies the substances of nature's fruitful progenies. All things from thins do their first being fetch, and borrow matter, whereof they are made, which, when its form and feature it does catch, becomes a body, and doth then invade the state of life out of the greasely shade. That substance is eternal, and by doth so. Now when the life decays, and form does fade, doth it consume, and into nothing go, but challenged is, and often altered to and fro. The substance is not challenged nor altered, but only form and outward fashion, for every substance is conditioned to change her hue on sundry forms to dawn, made for her temper and complexion, for forms are of variable and decay by course of kind and by occasion. And that fair flower of beauty fades away, as doth the lily fresh before the sunny ray. Great enemy to it, and to all the rest, that in the garden of Adonis springs is wicked time, who with his scythe adressed does mow the flowering herbs and goodly things, and all their glory to the ground downflings, where they do wither and are fouledly marred. He flies about, and with his flaggy wings beats down both leaves and buds without regard. Nay ever pity may relent his malice hard. Yet pity often did the gods relent to see so fair things marred, and spoiled quite. Under their great mother Venus did lament the loss of her dear brood, her dear delight, her heart was pierced with pity at the sight, when walking through the garden them she spied, yet note she find redress for such despite, for all that lives is subject to that law. All things decay in time, and to their end do draw. 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 sweet love gentle fits amongst them throes, without fail ronker, or fond jealousy, frankly each paramour his layman knows, each bird his mate Nay any does envy their goodly merriment and gay felicity. There is continual spring, and harvest there continual, both meeting at one time, for both the boughs do laughing blossoms bear, and with fresh colors deck the wanton prime. And ecotons, the heavy trees they climb, which seem to labor under their fruits load, the wiles, the joyous birds, make their past time, amongst the shady leaves their sweet abode, and their true loves without suspicion tell abroad. Right in the midst of that paradise there stood a stately mount, on whose round top a gloomy grove of myrtle trees did rise, whose shady bow as sharp steel did never lop, nor wicked beasts their tender buds did crop, but like a gearlund compassed the height, and from their fruitful sides sweet gum did drop, that all the ground with precious dew bedight, through forth most dainy odours, and most sweet delight. And in the thickest cupboard of that shade there was a pleasant arbore, not by art, but of the tree's own inclination made, which knitting their rank branches part to part, with wanton ewey twine entrailed a thwart, and eglentined and capri foal among, fashioned above with their inmost part, that nether-fibous beams could through them throng, nor earless sharp blast could work them any wrong, and all about grew every sort of flower, to which sad lovers were transformed of yore, fresh hyacinthus feebus paramour unto dearest love, foolish Narcissus, that likes the watery shore, sad Amaranthus made a flower but late, sad Amaranthus, in whose purple gore, me seems I see aminthus wretched fate, to whom sweet poet's verse hath given endless date. There won't fair Venus often to enjoy her dear Adonis Joyce company, and reap a sweet pleasure of the wanton boy. There yet some say in secret he does lie, lapped in flowers and precious spysary, by her hid from the world, and from the skill of Stygian gods, which do her love envy. But she herself, whenever that she will, possesseth him, and of his sweetness takes her fill. Unsoothed seems they say, for he may not for ever die, and ever bury be in baleful night, where all things are forgot, all be he subject to mortality, yet is he turned in mutability. And by succession, made perpetual, transformed often, challenged, diversely, for him the father of all forms they call, therefore needs moat he live, that living gives to all. There now he liveth in eternal bliss, joying his goddess, and of her enjoyed. Nay, faireth he henceforth that foe of his, which with his cruel tusk him deadly cloyed, for that wild boar, that which him once annoyed, she firmly hath imprisoned for eye, that her sweet love his malice moat avoid, in a strong, rocky cave, which is, they say, human, underneath that mount, that none him lawson may. There now he lives in everlasting joy, with many of the gods in company, which dither haunt, and with the winged boy sporting himself in safe felicity, who when he hath with spoils and cruelty ransacked the world, and in the woeful hearts of many wretches set his triumphs high, thither resorts, and laying his sad darts aside, with fair Adonis play as his wanton parts. And his true love fair Psyche with him plays, fair Psyche to him lately reconciled, after long troubles and unmeet hook-braze, with which his mother Venus, her, reviled, and Aik himself her cruelly exiled, but now in steadfast love and happy state, she with him lives, and hath him borne a child, pleasure that doth both gods and men aggrate. Pleasure the daughter of Cupid, and Psyche late. Hither great Venus brought this infant fair, the younger daughter of Chrysogony, and unto Psyche with great trust and care committed her, if fostered to be untrained up in true feminity. Who know less carefully her tendered, than her own daughter, pleasure to whom she made her companion, and her lessened in all the lore of love and goodly woman-hit. In which when she to perfect ripeness grew, of grace and beauty noble Paragon, she brought her forth into the world's view, to be then sample of true love alone, and lodestar of all chaste affection to all fair ladies that do live on ground. To fairy court she came, where many one admired her goodly haviour, and found his feeble heart wide launched with love's cruel wound. But she to none of them, her love did cast, save to the noble knights her Scudamore, to whom her loving heart she linked fast in faithful love, to bide for evermore, and for his dearest sake endured sore, sore trouble of an heinous enemy. Who her would force it have to have for lore her former love, and steadfast loyalty, as you may elsewhere read, that rueful history. But while I wean you first desire to learn, what end unto that fearful domazelle, which fled so fast from that same foster stern, whom with his brethren Timious slew be fell, that was so wheat the goodly florimelle, who wandering far to sake her lover dear, her lover dear, her dearest marinelle, into misfortune fell, as ye did here, and from Prince Arthur fled with wings of idle fear. End of Canto Six, Book Three, The Legend of Brithomartis