The Faerie Queene (68 page)

So cunningly enwouen were, that few

Could weenen, whether they were false or trew.

And on his head like to a Coronet

He wore, that seemed strange to common vew,

In which were many towres and castels set,

That it encompast round as with a golden fret.

28
Like as the mother of the Gods, they say,

In her great iron charet wonts to ride,

When to
Ioues
pallace she doth take her way;

Old
Cybele,
arayd with pompous pride,

Wearing a Diademe embattild wide

With hundred turrets, like a Turribant.

With such an one was Thamis beautifide;

That was to weet the famous Troynouant,

In which her kingdomes throne is chiefly resiant

29
And round about him many a pretty Page

Attended duely, ready to obay;

All little Riuers, which owe vassallage

To him, as to their Lord, and tribute pay:

The chaulky Kenet, and the Thetis gray,

The morish Cole, and the soft sliding Breane,

The wanton Lee, that oft doth loose his way,

And the still Darent, in whose waters cleane

Ten thousand fishes play, and decke his pleasant streame.

30
Then came his neighbour flouds, which nigh him dwell,

And water all the English soile throughout;

They all on him this day attended well;

And with meet seruice waited him about;

Ne none disdained low to him to lout:

No not the stately Seuerne grudg'd at all,

Ne storming Humber, though he looked stout;

But both him honor'd as their principall,

And let their swelling waters low before him fall.

31
There was the speedy Tamar, which deuides

The Cornish and the Deuonish confines;

Through both whose borders swiftly downe it glides,

And meeting Plim, to Plimmouth thence declines:

And Dart, nigh chockt with sands of tinny mines.

But Auon marched in more stately path,

Proud of his Adamants, with which he shines

And glisters wide, as als' of wondrous Bath,

And Bristow faire, which on his waues he builded hath.

32
And there came Stoure with terrible aspect,

Bearing his sixe deformed heads on hye,

That doth his course through Blandford plains direct,

And washeth Winborne meades in season drye.

Next him went Wylibourne with passage slye,

That of his wylinesse his name doth take,

And of him selfe doth name the shire thereby:

And Mole, that like a nousling Mole doth make

His way still vnder ground, till Thamis he ouertake.

33
Then came the Rother, decked all with woods

Like a wood God, and flowing fast to Rhy:

And Sture, that parteth with his pleasant floods

The Easterne Saxons from the Southerne ny,

And Clare, and Harwitch both doth beautify:

Him follow'd Yar, soft washing Norwitch wall,

And with him brought a present ioyfully

Of his owne fish vnto their festiuall,

Whose like none else could shew, the which they Ruffins call.

34
Next these the plenteous Ouse came far from land,

By many a city, and by many a towne,

And many riuers taking vnder hand

Into his waters, as he passeth downe,

The Cle, the Were, the Grant, the Sture, the Rowne.

Thence doth by Huntingdon and Cambridge flit,

My mother Cambridge, whom as with a Crowne

He doth adorne, and is adorn'd of it

With many a gentle Muse, and many a learned wit.

35
And after him the fatall Welland went,

That if old sawes proue true (which God forbid)

Shall drowne all Holland with his excrement,

And shall see Stamford, though now homely hid,

Then shine in learning, more then euer did

Cambridge or Oxford, Englands goodly beames.

And next to him the
Nene
downe softly slid;

And bounteous Trent, that in him selfe enseames

Bodi thirty sorts of fish, and thirty sundry streames.

36
Next these came Tyne, along whose stony bancke

That Romaine Monarch built a brasen wall,

Which mote the feebled Britons strongly flancke

Against the Picts, that swarmed ouer all,

Which yet thereof Gualseuer they doe call:

And Twede the limit betwixt Logris land

And Albany: and Eden though but small,

Yet often stainde with bloud of many a band

Of Scots and Engh'sh both, that tyned on his strand.

37
Then came those sixe sad brethren, like forlorne,

That whilome were (as antique fathers tell)

Sixe valiant Knights, of one faire Nymphe yborne,

Which did in noble deedes of armes excell,

And wonned there, where now Yorke people dwell;

Still Vre, swift Werfe, and Oze the most of might,

High Swale, vnquiet Nide, and troublous Skell;

All whom a Scythian king, that Humber night,

Slew cruelly, and in the riuer drowned quight.

38
But past not long, ere
Brutus
warlicke sonne

Locrinus
them aueng'd, and the same date,

Which the proud Humber vnto them had donne,

By equall dome repayd on his owne pate:

For in the selfe same riuer, where he late

Had drenched them, he drowned him againe;

And nam'd the riuer of his wretched fate;

Whose bad condition yet it doth retaine,

Oft tossed with his stormes, which therein still remaine.

39
These after, came the stony shallow Lone,

That to old Loncaster his name doth lend;

And following Dee, which Britons long ygone

Did call diuine, that doth by Chester tend;

And Conway which out of his streame doth send

Plenty of pearles to decke his dames withall,

And Lindus that his pikes doth most commend,

Of which the auncient Lincolne men doe call,

All these together marched toward
Proteus
hall.

40
Ne thence the Irishe Riuers absent were,

Sith no lesse famous then the rest they bee,

And ioyne in neighbourhood of kingdome nere,

Why should they not likewise in loue agree,

And ioy likewise this solemne day to see.

They saw it all, and present were in place;

Though I them all according their degree,

Cannot recount, nor tell their hidden race,

Nor read the saluage cuntreis, thorough which they pace.

41
There was the Liffy rolling downe the lea,

The sandy Slane, the stony Aubrian,

The spacious Shenan spreading like a sea,

The pleasant Boyne, the fishy fruitfull Ban,

Swift Awniduff, which of the English man

Is cal'de Blacke water, and the Liffar deep,

Sad Trowis, that once his people ouerran,

Strong
Allo
tombling from Slewlogher steep,

And
Mulla
mine, whose waues I whilom taught to weep.

42
And there the three renowmed brethren were,

Which that great Gyant
Blomius
begot,

Of the faire Nimph
Rheusa
wandring there.

One day, as she to shunne the season whot,

Vnder Slewbloome in shady groue was got,

This Gyant found her, and by force deflowr'd,

Whereof concerning, she in time forth brought

These three faire sons, which being thence forth powrd

In three great riuers ran, and many countries scowrd.

43
The first, the gentle Shure that making way

By sweet Clonmell, adornes rich Waterford;

The next, the stubborne Newre, whose waters gray

By faire Kilkenny and Rosseponte boord,

The third, the goodly Barow, which doth hoord

Great heapes of Salmons in his deepe bosome:

All which long sundred, doe at last accord

To ioyne in one, ere to the sea they come,

So flowing all from one, all one at last become.

44
There also was the wide embayed Mayre,

The pleasaunt Bandon crownd with many a wood,

The spreading Lee, that like an Island fayre

Encloseth Corke with his deuided flood;

And balefull Oure, late staind with English blood:

With many more, whose names no tongue can tell.

All which that day in order seemly good

Did on the Thamis attend, and waited well

To doe their duefull seruice, as to them befell.

45
Then came the Bride, the louely
Medua
came,

Clad in a vesture of vnknowen geare,

And vncouth fashion, yet her well became;

That seem'd like siluer, sprinckled here and theare

With glittering spangs, that did Uke starres appeare,

And wau'd vpon, Uke water Chamelot,

To hide the metall, which yet euery where

Bewrayd it selfe, to let men plainely wot,

It was no mortall worke, that seem'd and yet was not.

46
Her goodly lockes adowne her backe did flow

Vnto her waste, with flowres bescattered,

The which ambrosiall odours forth did throw

To all about, and all her shoulders spied

As a new spring; and likewise on her hed

A Chapelet of sundry flowers she wore,

From vnder which the deawy humour shed,

Did tride downe her haire, Uke to the hore

Congealed litle drops, which doe the morne adore.

47
On her two pretty handmaides did attend,

One cald the
Theise,
the other cald the
Crane;

Which on her waited, things amisse to mend,

And both behind vpheld her spredding traine;

Vnder the which, her feet appeared plaine,

Her siluer feet, faire washt against this day:

And her before there paced Pages twaine,

Both clad in colours Uke, and Uke array,

The
Doune
& eke the
Frith,
both which prepard her way.

48
And after these the Sea Nymphs marched all,

All goodly damzels, deckt with long greene haire,

Whom of their sire
Nereides
men call,

All which the Oceans daughter to him bare

The gray eyde
Doris: all
which fifty are;

All which she there on her attending had.

Swift
Proto,
milde
Eucrate, Thetis
faire,

Soft
Spio,
sweete
Eudore, Sao
sad,

Light
Doto,
wanton
Glauce,
and
Galene
glad.

49
White hand
Eunica,
proud
Dynamene,

Ioyous
Thalia,
goodly
Amphitrite,

Louely
Pasithee,
kinde
Eulimene,

Light foote
Cymoihoe,
and sweete
Melite,

Fairest
Pherusa, Phao
lilly white,

Wondred
Agaue, Poris,
and
Neseea,

With
Erato
that doth in loue delite,

And
Pamopœ,
and wise
Protomedœa,

And snowy neckd
Doris,
and milkewhite
Galathœa.

50
Speedy
Hippothoe,
and chaste
Actea,

Large
Lisianassa,
and
Pronœa
sage,

Euagore,
and light
Pontoporea,

And she, that with her least word can asswage

The surging seas, when they do sorest rage,

Cymodoce,
and stout
Autonoe,

And
Neso,
and
Eione
well in age,

And seeming still to smile,
Glauconome,

And she that hight of many heastes
Polynome.

51
Fresh
Alimeda,
deckt with girlond greene;

Hyponeo,
with salt bedewed wrests:

Laomedia,
like the christall sheene;

Liagore,
much praisd for wise behests;

And
Psamathe,
for her brode snowy brests;

Cymo, Eupompe,
and
Themiste
iust;

And she that vertue loues and vice detests

Euarna,
and
Menippe
true in trust,

And
Nemertea
learned well to rule her lust

52
All these the daughters of old
Nereus
were,

Which haue the sea in charge to them assinde,

To rule his tides, and surges to vprere,

To bring forth stormes, or fast them to vpbinde,

And sailers saue from wreckes of wrathfull winde.

And yet besides three thousand more there were

Of th'Oceans seede, but
Ioues
and
Phœbus
kinde;

The which in floods and fountaines doe appere,

And all mankinde do nourish with their waters clere.

53
The which, more eath it were for mortall wight,

To tell the sands, or count the starres on hye,

Or ought more hard, then thinke to reckon right.

But well I wote, that these which I descry,

Were present at this great solemnity:

And there amongst the rest, the mother was

Of luckelesse
Marinell Cymodoce,

Which, for my Muse her selfe now tyred has,

Vnto an other Canto I will ouerpas.

Marin for hue of Florimell,
   In languor wastes his life:
The Nymph his mother getteth her,
   And giues to him for wife.

1
O what an endlesse worke haue I in hand,

To count the seas abundant progeny,

Whose fruitfull seede farre passeth those in land,

And also those which wonne in th'azure sky?

For much more eath to tell the starres on hy,

Albe they endlesse seeme in estimation,

Then to recount the Seas posterity:

So fertile be the flouds in generation,

So huge their numbers, and so numberlesse their nation.

2
Therefore the antique wisards well inuented,

That
Venus
of the fomy sea was bred;

For that the seas by her are most augmented.

Witnesse th'exceeding fry, which there are fed,

And wondrous sholes, which may of none be red.

Then blame me not, if I haue err'd in count

Of Gods, of Nymphs, of riuers yet vnred:

For though their numbers do much more surmount,

Yet all those same were there, which erst I did recount.

3
All those were there, and many other more,

Whose names and nations were too long to tell,

That
Proteus
house they fild euen to the dore;

Yet were they all in order, as befell,

According their degrees disposed well.

Amongst the rest, was faire
Cymodoce,

The mother of vnlucky
Marinell,

Who thither with her came, to learne and see

The manner of the Gods when they at banquet be.

4
But for he was halfe mortall, being bred

Of mortall sire, though of immortall wombe,

He might not with immortall food be fed,

Ne with th'eternall Gods to bancket come;

But walkt abrode, and round about did rome,

To view the building of that vncouth place,

That seem'd vnlike vnto his earthly home:

Where, as he to and fro by chaunce did trace,

There vnto him betid a disauentrous case.

5
Vnder the hanging of an hideous clieffe,

He heard the lamentable voice of one,

That piteously complaind her carefull grieffe,

Which neuer she before disclosd to none,

But to her selfe her sorrow did bemone.

So feelingly her case she did complaine,

That ruth it moued in the rocky stone,

And made it seeme to feele her grieuous paine,

And oft to grone with billowes beating from the maine.

6
Though vaine I see my sorrowes to vnfold,

And count my cares, when none is nigh to heare,

Yet hoping griefe may lessen being told,

I will them tell though vnto no man neare:

For heauen that vnto all lends equall eare,

Is farre from hearing of my heauy plight;

And lowest hell, to which I lie most neare,

Cares not what euils hap to wretched wight;

And greedy seas doe in the spoile of life delight.

7
Yet loe the seas I see by often beating,

Doe pearce the rockes, and hardest marble weares;

But his hard rocky hart for no entreating

Will yeeld, but when my piteous plaints he heares,

Is hardned more with my aboundant teares.

Yet though he neuer list to me relent,

But let me waste in woe my wretched yeares,

Yet will I neuer of my loue repent,

But ioy that for his sake I suffer prisonment.

8
And when my weary ghost with griefe outworne,

By timely death shall winne her wished rest,

Let then this plaint vnto his eares be borne,

That blame it is to him, that armes profest,

To let her die, whom he might haue redrest.

There did she pause, inforced to giue place,

Vnto the passion, that her heart opprest,

And after she had wept and wail'd a space,

She gan afresh thus to renew her wretched case.

9
Ye Gods of seas, if any Gods at all

Haue care of right, or ruth of wretches wrong,

By one or other way me woefull thrall,

Deliuer hence out of this dungeon strong,

In which I daily dying am too long.

And if ye deeme me death for lotting one,

That loues not me, then doe it not prolong,

But let me die and end my daies attone,

And let him Hue vnlou'd, or loue him selfe alone.

10
But if that life ye vnto me decree,

Then let mee liue, as louers ought to do,

And of my lifes deare loue beloued be:

And if he shall through pride your doome vndo,

Do you by duresse him compell thereto,

And in this prison put him here with me:

One prison fittest is to hold vs two:

So had I rather to be thrall, then free;

Such thraldome or such freedome let it surely be.

11
But ô vaine iudgement, and conditions vaine,

The which the prisoner points vnto the free,

The whiles I him condemne, and deeme his paine,

He where he list goes loose, and laughes at me.

So euer loose, so euer happy be.

But where so loose or happy that thou art,

Know
Marinell
that all this is for thee.

With that she wept and wail'd, as if her hart

Would quite haue burst through great abundance of her smart.

12
All which complaint when
Marinell
had heard,

And vnderstood the cause of all her care

To come of him, for vsing her so hard,

His stubborne heart, that neuer felt misfare

Was toucht with soft remorse and pitty rare;

That euen for griefe of minde he oft did grone,

And inly wish, that in bis powre it weare

Her to redresse: but since he meanes found none

He could no more but her great misery bemone.

13
Thus whilst his stony heart with tender ruth

Was toucht, and mighty courage mollifide,

Dame
Venus
sonne that tameth stubborne youth

With iron bit, and maketh him abide,

Till like a victor on his backe he ride,

Into his mouth his maystring bridle threw,

That made him stoupe, till he did him bestride:

Then gan he make him tread his steps anew,

And leame to loue, by learning louers paines to rew.

14
Now gan he in his grieued minde deuise,

How from that dungeon he might her enlarge;

Some while he thought, by faire and humble wise

To
Proteus
selfe to sue for her discharge:

But then he fear'd his mothers former charge

Gainst womens loue, long giuen him in vaine.

Then gan he thinke, perforce with sword and targe

Her forth to fetch, and
Proteus
to constraine:

But soone he gan such folly to forthinke againe.

15
Then did he cast to steale her thence away,

And with him beare, where none of her might know.

But all in vaine: for why he found no way

To enter in, or issue forth below:

For all about that rocke the sea did flow.

And though vnto his will she giuen were,

Yet without ship or bote her thence to row,

He wist not how her thence away to bere;

And daunger well he wist long to continue there.

16
At last when as no meanes he could inuent,

Backe to him selfe, he gan returne the blame,

That was the author of her punishment;

And with vile curses, and reprochtull shame

To damne him selfe by euery euill name;

And deeme vnworthy or of loue or life,

That had despisde so chast and faire a dame,

Which him had sought through trouble & long strife;

Yet had refusde a God that her had sought to wife.

17
In this sad plight he walked here and there,

And romed round about the rocke in vaine,

As he had lost him selfe, he wist not where;

Oft listening if he mote her heare againe;

And still bemoning her vnworthy paine.

Like as an Hynde whose calfe is falne vnwares

Into some pit, where she him heares complaine,

An hundred times about the pit side fares,

Right sorrowfully mourning her bereaued cares.

18
And now by this the feast was throughly ended,

And euery one gan homeward to resort.

Which seeing,
Marinell
was sore offended,

That his departure thence should be so short,

And leaue his loue in that sea-walled fort

Yet durst he not his mother disobay,

But her attending in full seemly sort,

Did march amongst the many all the way:

And all the way did inly mourne, like one astray.

19
Being returned to his mothers bowre,

In solitary silence far from wight,

He gan record the lamentable stowre,

In which his wretched loue lay day and night,

For his deare sake, that ill deseru'd that plight:

The thought whereof empierst his hart so deepe,

That of no worldly thing he tooke delight;

Ne dayly food did take, ne nightly sleepe,

But pyn'd, & mourn'd, & languisht, and alone did weepe.

20
That in short space his wonted chearefull hew

Gan fade, and liuely spirits deaded quight:

His cheeke bones raw, and eie-pits hollow grew,

And brawney armes had lost their knowen might,

That nothing like himselfe he seem'd in sight.

Ere long so weake of limbe, and sicke of loue

He woxe, that lenger he note stand vpright,

But to his bed was brought, and layd aboue,

Like ruefull ghost, vnable once to stirre or moue.

21
Which when his mother saw, she in her mind

Was troubled sore, ne wist well what to weene,

Ne could by search nor any meanes out find

The secret cause and nature of his teene,

Whereby she might apply some medicine;

But weeping day and night, did him attend,

And mourn'd to see her losse before her eyne,

Which grieu'd her more, that she it could not mend:

To see an helpelesse euill, double griefe doth lend.

22
Nought could she read the roote of his disease,

Ne weene what mister maladie it is,

Whereby to seeke some meanes it to appease.

Most did she thinke, but most she thought amis,

That that same former fatall wound of his

Whyleare by
Tryphon
was not throughly healed,

But closely rankled vnder th'orifis:

Least did she thinke, that which he most concealed,

That loue it was, which in his hart lay vnreuealed.

23
Therefore to
Tryphon
she againe doth hast,

And him doth chyde as false and fraudulent,

That fayld the trust, which she in him had plast,

To cure her sonne, as he his faith had lent:

Who now was falne into new languishment

Of his old hurt, which was not throughly cured.

So backe he came vnto her patient,

Where searching euery part, her well assured,

That it was no old sore, which his new paine procured.

24
But that it was some other maladie,

Or griefe vnknowne, which he could not discerne:

So left he her withouten remedie.

Then gan her heart to faint, and quake, and earne,

And inly troubled was, the truth to learne.

Vnto himselfe she came, and him besought,

Now with faire speches, now with threatnings sterne,

If ought lay hidden in his grieued thought,

It to reueale: who still her answered, there was nought

25
Nathlesse she rested not so satisfide,

But leaning watry gods, as booting nought,

Vnto the shinie heauen in haste she hide,

And thence
Apollo
King of Leaches brought

Apollo
came; who soone as he had sought

Through his disease, did by and by out find,

That he did languish of some inward thought,

The which afflicted his engrieued mind;

Which loue he red to be, that leads each liuing kind.

26
Which when he had vnto his mother told,

She gan thereat to fret, and greatly grieue.

And comming to her sonne, gan first to scold,

And chyde at him, that made her misbelieue:

But afterwards she gan him soft to shrieue,

And wooe with faire intreatie, to disclose,

Which of the Nymphes his heart so sore did mieue.

For sure she weend it was some one of those,

Which he had lately seene, that for his loue he chose.

27
Now lesse she feared that same fatall read,

That warned him of womens loue beware:

Which being ment of mortall creatures sead,

For loue of Nymphes she thought she need not care,

But promist him, what euer wight she weare,

That she her loue, to him would shortly gaine:

So he her told: but soone as she did heare

That
Florimell
it was, which wrought his paine,

She gan a fresh to chafe, and grieue in euery vaine.

28
Yet since she saw the streight extremitie,

In which his life vnluckily was layd,

It was no time to scan the prophecie,

Whether old
Proteus
true or false had sayd,

That his decay should happen by a mayd.

It's late in death of daunger to aduize,

Or loue forbid him, that is life denayd:

But rather gan in troubled mind deuize,

How she that Ladies libertie might enterprize.

29
To
Proteus
selfe to sew she thought it vaine,