In all the world like was not to be fownd,
Save in that soile, where all good things did grow,
And freely sprong out of the fruitfull grownd,
As incorrupted Nature did them sow,
Till that dredd dragon all did overthrow.
Another like faire tree eke grew thereby,
Where of whoso did eat, eftsoones did know
Both good and ill: O mournfull memory! [to dy!
That tree through one mans fault hath doen us all

From that first tree forth flowd, as from a well,
A trickling streame of balme, most soveraine
And dainty deare, which on the ground still fell,
And overflowed all the fertile plaine,

As it had deawed bene with timely raine:

Life and long health that gracious ointment gave;
And deadly wounds could heale; and reare againe
The sencelesse corse appointed for the grave:
late that same he fell, which did from death him

save.

For nigh thereto the ever-damned beast
Durst not approch, for he was deadly made,
And al that life preserved did detest;
Yet he it oft adventur'd to invade.

By this the drouping Day-light gan to fade,
And yield his row me to sad succeeding Night,
Who with her sable mantle gan to shade
The face of Earth and wayes of living wight,
And high her burning torch set up in Heaven bright.

When gentle Una saw the second fall

Of her deare knight, who, weary of long fight
And faint through losse of blood, moov'd not at all,
But lay, as in a dreame of deepe delight,
Besmeard with pretious balme, whose vertuous might
Did heale his woundes, and scorching heat alay;
Againe she stricken was with sore affright,
And for his safetie gan devoutly pray,

[day.

And watch the noyous night, and wait for ioyous

The joyous day gan early to appeare;
And fayre Aurora from the deawy bed
Of aged Tithone gan herselfe to reare
With rosy cheekes, for shame as blushing red:
Her golden locks, for hast, were loosely shed
About her eares, when Una her did marke
Clymbe to her charet, all with flowers spred,
From Heven high to chace the chearelesse darke;
With mery note her lowd salutes the mounting larke.

Then freshly up arose the doughty knight,
All bealed of his hurts and woundës wide,
And did himselfe to battaile ready dight;
Whose early foe awaiting him beside
To have devourd, so soone as day he spyde,
When now he saw himselfe so freshly reare,
As of late fight had nought him damnifyde,
He woxe dismaid, and gan his fate to feare;
Nathlesse with wonted rage he him advaunced neare;

And in his first encounter, gaping wyde,

He thought attonce him to have swallowd quight,
And rusht upon him with outragious pryde;
Who him rencounting fierce, as hanke in flight,
Perforce rebutted back the weapon bright,
Taking advantage of his open iaw,

Ran through his mouth with so importune might,
That deepe emperst his darksom hollow maw,
And, back retyrd, his life blood forth withall did
drag.

So downe he fell, and forth his life did breath,
That vanisht into smoke and cloudes swift;
So downe he fell, that th' Earth him underneath
Did grone, as feeble so great load to lift;
So downe he fell, as an huge rocky clift,
Whose false foundacion waves have washt away,
With dreadfull poyse is from the mayneland rift,
And, rolling downe, great Neptune doth dismay:
So downe he fell, and like an heaped mountaine lay.

The knight himselfe even trembled at his fall,
So huge and horrible a masse it seemd ;
And his deare lady, that beheld it all,
Durst not approch for dread which she misdeemd:
But yet at last, whenas the direfull feend
She saw not stirre, off-shaking vaine affright
She nigher drew, and saw that ioyous end:
Then God she praysd, and thankt her faithfull
knight,

That had atchievde so great a conquest by his might,

Forth came that auncient lord, and aged queene,
Arayd in antique robes downe to the grownd,
And sad habiliments right well beseene:
A noble crew about them waited rownd
Of sage and sober peres, all gravely gownd;
Whom far before did march a goodly band
Of tall young men, all hable armes to sownd,
But now they laurell braunches bore in hand;
Glad signe of victory and peace in all their land.

Unto that doughtie conquerour they came,
And, him before themselves prostrating low,
Their lord and patrone loud did him proclame,
And at his feet their lawrell bonghes did throw.
Soone after them, all dauncing on a row,
The comely virgins came, with girlands dight,
As fresh as flowres in medow greene doe grow,
When morning deaw upon their leaves doth light;
And in their handes sweet timbrells all upheld on
hight.

And, them before, the fry of children yong
Their wanton sportes and childish mirth did play,
And to the maydens sownding tymbrels song
In well attuned notes a joyous lay,
And made delightfull musick all the way,
Untill they came where that faire virgin stood:
As fayre Diana in fresh sommers day

Beholdes her nymphes enraung'd in shady wood, Some wrestle, some do run, some bathe in christall flood;

So she beheld those maydens meriment
With chearefull vew; who, when to her they came,
Themselves to ground with gracious humblesse bent,
And her ador'd by honorable name,
Lifting to Heven her everlasting fame:
Then on her head they sett a girlond greene,
And crowned her twixt earnest and twixt game:
Who, in her self-resemblance well beseene,
Did seeme, such as she was, a goodly maiden queene.
And after all the raskall many ran,
Heaped together in rude rablement,
To see the face of that victorious man,
Whom all admired as from Heaven sent,
And gaz'd upon with gaping wonderment.

But when they came where that dead dragon lay,
Stretcht on the ground in monstrous large extent,
The sight with ydle feare did them dismay,
Ne durst approch him nigh, to touch, or once assay.
Some feard, and fledd: some feard, and well it
faynd;

One, that would wiser seeme then all the rest,
Warnd him not touch, for yet perhaps remaynd
Some lingring life within his hollow brest,
Or in his wombe might lurke some hidden nest
Of many dragonettes, his fruitfull seede;
Another saide, that in his eyes did rest
Yet sparckling fyre, and badd thereof take heed;
Another said, he saw him move his eyes indeed.
One mother, whenas her foolehardy chyld
Did come too neare, and with his talants play,
Halfe dead through feare, her litle babe revyld,
And to her gossibs gan in counsell say;
"How can I tell, but that his talants may
Yet scratch my sonne, or rend his tender hand?"
So diversly themselves in vaine they fray;
Whiles some more bold to measure him nigh stand,
To prove how many acres he did spred of land.

"Unhappy falls that hard necessity,"
Quoth he, "the troubler of my happy peace,
And vowed foe of my felicity;

Ne I against the same can justly preace.
But since that band ye cannot now release,
Nor doen undo, (for vowes may not be vayne,)
Soone as the terme of those six yeares shall cease,
Ye then shall hether backe retourne agayne,
The marriage to accomplish vowd betwixt you twaya:

" Which, for my part, I covet to performe,
In sort, as through the world I did proclame,
That whoo kild that monster most deforme,
And him in hardy battayle overcame,
Stuld have mine onely daughter to his dame,
And of my kingdome heyre apparaunt bee:
Therefore since now to thee perteynes the same,
Br dew desert of noble chevalree,

Both daughter and eke kingdome lo! I yield to

thee."

Then forth be called that his daughter fayre,
The fairest Un', his onely daughter deare,
Hs onely daughter and his onely 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 iourney 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 silke 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,
D'd wonder much at her celestial sight:

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

So fairely dight when she in presence came,
She to her syre made humble reverence,
And bowed low, that her right well became,
And added grace unto her excellence:
Who with great wisedome and grave eloquence
Thus gan to say-But, care he thus had sayd,
With dying speede, and seeming great pretence,
Came running in, much like a man dismayd,
A messenger with letters, which his message sayd.

All in the open hall amazed stood
At suddennesse of that unwary sight,
And wondred at his breathlesse hasty mood;
But he for nought would stay his passage right,
Till fast before the king he did alight;
Where falling flat great humblesse he did make,
And kist the ground whereon his foot was pight;
Then to his handes that writt he did betake,
Which he disclosing, read thus, as the paper spake;

"To me sad mayd, or rather widow sad,
He was affyaunced long time before,
And sacred pledges he both gave, and had,
False erraunt knight, infamous, and forsworne!
Witnesse the burning altars, which he swore,
And guilty Heavens of his bold periury:
Which though he hath polluted oft of yore,
Yet I to them for iudgement iust doe fly,
And them coniure t' avenge this shamefull iniury !TM ̧
"Therefore since mine he is, or free or bond,
Or false or trew, or living or else dead,
Withhold, O soverayne prince, your hasty hond
From knitting league with him, I you aread;
Ne weene my right with strength adowne to tread,
Through weaknesse of my widowhed or woe:
For truth is strong her rightfull cause to plead,
And shall finde friends, if need requireth soe.
So bids thee well to fare, thy neither friend nor foet
"FIDESSA." P.

"What meane these bloody vowes and idle threats,
Throwne out from womanish impatient mynd?!!
What Hevens? what altars? what enraged heates,
Here heaped up with termes of love unkynd,
My conscience cleare with guilty bands would bynd?
High God be witnesse, that I guiltlesse ame!
But if yourselfe, sir Knight, ye faulty fynd,
Or wrapped be in loves of former dame,
With cryme doe not it cover, but disclose the same."

To whom the Redcrosse knight this answere sent ;
"My lord, my king; be nought hereat dismayd,
Till well ye wote by grave intendiment,
What woman, and wherefore, doth me upbrayd
With breach of love and loialty betrayd.
It was in my mishaps, as hitherward

I lately traveild, that unwares I strayd
Out of my way, through perils straunge and hard;
That day should faile me ere I had them all declard.

"There did I find, or rather I was fownd
Of this false woman that Fidessa hight,
Fidessa hight the falsest dame on grownd,
Most false Duessa, royall richly dight,
That easy was t' inveigle weaker sight:
Who by her wicked arts and wiely skill,
Too false and strong for earthly skill or might,
Unwares me wrought unto her wicked will,
And to my foe betrayd, when least I feared ill."-

Then stepped forth the goodly royall mayd,
And, on the ground herselfe prostrating low,
With sober countenance thus to him sayd;
"O pardon me, my soveraine lord, to show
The secret treasons, which of late I know
To have bene wrought by that false sorceresse:
Shee, onely she, it is, that earst did throw
This gentle knight into so great distresse,
That death him did awaite in daily wretchednesse.

"And now it seemes, that she suborned hath
This crafty messenger with letters vaine,
To worke new woe and unprovided scath,
By breaking of the band betwixt us twaine;
Wherein she used hath the practicke paine
Of this false footman, chokt with simplenesse,
Whome if ye please for to discover plaine,
Ye shall him Archimago find, I ghesse,
The falsest man alive; who tries, shall find no lesse."

The king was greatly moved at her speach;
And, all with suddein indignation fraight,
Bad on that messenger rude hands to reach.
Eftsoones the gard, which on his state did wait,
Attacht that faytor false, and bound him strait:
Whose seeming sorely chauffed at his band,
As chained beare whom cruell dogs doe bait,
With ydle force did faine them to withstand;
And often semblaunce made to scape out of their

hand.

But they him layd full low in dungeon deepe,

And bound him hand and foote with yron chains;
And with continual watch did warely keepe.
Who then would thinke, that by his subtile trains
He could escape fowle death or deadly pains?
Thus, when that princes wrath was pacifide,
He gan renew the late forbidden bains,

And to the knight his daughter dear he tyde
With sacred rites and vowes for ever to abyde.

His owne two hands the holy kuotts did knitt,
That none but death for ever can divide;
His owne two hands, for such a turne most fitt,
The housing fire did kindle and provide,
And holy water thereon sprinckled wide;
At which the bushy teade 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.

OF

93

IGHT well I wote, most mighty soveraine,

RIGE

That all this famous antique history

Of some th' aboundance of an ydle braine
Will indged be, and painted forgery,
Rather then matter of iust memory;

Sith none that breatheth living aire doth know
Where is that happy land of Faëry,

Which I so much doe vaunt, yet no where show;
But vouch antiquities, which no body can know.

But let that man with better sence advize,
That of the world least part to us is red;
And daily how through hardy enterprize
Many great regions are discovered,
Which to late age were never mentioned.
Who ever heard of th' Indian Peru?
Or who in venturous vessell measured
The Amazon huge river, now found trew?
Or fruitfullest Virginia who did ever vew ?

Yet all these were, when no man did them know,
Yet have from wisest ages hidden beene;
And later times thinges more unknowne shall show.
Why then should witlesse man so much misweene,
That nothing is, but that which he hath seene?
What, if within the Moones fayre shining spheare,
What, if in every other starre unseene
Of other worldes he happily should heare?

He wonder would much more; yet such to some appeare.

Of Faery lond yet if he more inquyre,
By certain signes, here sett in sondrie place,
He may it fynd; ne let him then admyre,
But yield his sence to bee too blunt and bace,
That note without an hound fine footing trace.
And thou, O fayrest princesse under sky,
In this fayre mirrhour maist behold thy face,
And thine owne realmes in lond of Faëry,
And in this antique ymage thy great auncestry.