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SPENSER'S POEMS.
But this coy damzell thought contráriwize, The sonne of Venus, who is myld by kyad,
That such proud looks would make her praysed more; But where he is provokt with peevishnesse,
And that, the more she did all love despize, Unto her prayers piteously enclynd,
The more would wretched lovers her adore. And did the rigour of his doome represse;
What cared she who sighed for ber sore,

Yet not so freely, but that nathëlesse
Or who did wayle or watch the wearie night? He unto her a penance did impose,
Let them that list their lucklesse lot deplore ; Which was, that through this worlds wyde wildernes
She was borne free, not bound to any wight, She wander should in companie of those,
And so would ever live, and love hop own delight. Till she had sav'd so many loves as she did lose.

Through such her stubborne stifnesse and hard hart, So now she had bene wandring two whole yeares Many a wretch for want of remedie

Throughout the world, in this uncomely case, Did languish long in life-consuming smart, Wasting her goodly hew in heavie teares, And at the last through dreary dolour die : And her good dayes in dolorous disgrace; Whylest she, the ladie of her libertie,

Yet had she not in all these two yeares space Did boast her beautie had such soveraine might, Saved but two; yet in two yeares before, [place, That with the onely twinckle of her eye

Through her dispiteous pride, whilest love lackt She could or save or spill whom she would hight: She had destroyed two and twenty more. (fore! What could the gods doe more, but doe it more Aieme, how could her love make half amends therearight?

And now she was uppon the weary way, But loe! the gods, that mortall follies vew,

Whenas the gentle squire, with faire serene, Did worthily revenge this maydens pride;

Met her in such misseeming foule array; And, nought regarding her so goodly hew,

The whiles that mighty man did her demeane Did laugh at her that many did deride,

With all the evil termes and cruell meane Whilest she did weepe, of no man mercifide : That he could make; and eeke that angry foole For on a day, when Cupid kept his court,

Which follow'd her, with cursed hands uncleane As he is wont at each Saint Valentide,

Whipping her horse, did with his smarting toole Unto the which all lovers doe resort, [report; Oft whip her dainty selfe, and much augment her That of their loves successe they there may make

doole. It fortun'd then, that when the roules were red, In which the names of all Loves folke were fyled,

Ne ought it mote availe her to entreat That many there were missing; which were ded,

The one or th' other better her to use ;

For both so wilfull were and obstinate
Or kept in bands, or from their loves exyled,
Or by some other violence despoyled.

That all her piteous plaint they did refuse,

And rather did the more her beate and bruse: Which whenas Cupid heard, he wexed wroth; And, doubting to be wronged or beguyled,

But most the former villaine, which did lead He bad his eyes to be unblindfold both,

Her tyreling iade, was bent her to abuse; That he might see his men, and muster them by oth. Who, though she were with wearinesse nigh dead,

Yet would not let her lite, nor rest a little stead: Then found he many missing of his crew, Which wont doe suit and service to his might;

For he was sterne and terrible by nature, Of whom what was becomen no man knew.

And eeke of persor. huge and hideous, Therefore a jurie was impaneld streight

Exceeding much the measure of mans stature,

And rather like a gyant monstruous :
T'enquire of them, whether by force, or sleight,

For sooth he was descended of the hous
Or their owne guilt, they were away convayd :
To whom foule Infamie and fell Despight

Of those old gyants, which did warres darraine Gave evidence, that they were all betrayd

Against the Heaven in order battailous; And murdred cruelly by a rebellious mayd.

And sib to great Orgolio, which was slaine

By Arthure, whenas Upas knight he did maintains Fayre Mirabella was her name, whereby Of all those crymes she there indited was: His lookes were dreadfull, and bis fiery eies, All wbich when Cupid beard, he by and by

Like two great beacons, glared bright and wyde, In great displeasure wild a capias

Glauncing askew, as if his enemies Should issue forth t'attach that scornefull lasse.

He scorned in his overweening pryde ; The warrant straight was made, and therewithall And stalking stately, like a crane, did stryde A baylieffe errant forth in post did passe,

At every step uppon the tiptoes hie; Whom they by name there Portamore did call;

And, all the way he went, on every syde He which doth summon lovers to Loves iudgernent He gazd about and stared horriblie, hall.

As if he with his lookes would all men terrifie.

The damzell was attacht, and shortly brought He wore no armour, ne for none did care,
Unto the barre whereas she was arrayned: As no whit dreading any living wight;
But she thereto nould plead, nor answere ought, But in a iacket, quilted richly rare
Even for stubborne pride, which ber restrayned : Upon checklaton, he was straungely dight ;
So judgement past, as is by law ordayned

And on his head a roll of linnen plight,
In cases like: which when at last she saw,

Like to the Mores of Malaber, he wore, Her stubborne hart, which love before disdayned, With which his locks, as blacke as pitchy nigbt, Gan stoupe; and, falling downe with humble awe, Were bound about and voyded from befure; Cryde mercie, to abate the extremitie of law,

And in his hand a mighty yron club de bore.

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This was Disdaine, who led that ladies horse
Through thick and thin, through mountains and
through plains,

CANTO VIII.
Compelling her, where she would not, by force,
Haling her palfrey by the hempen raines :

Prince Arthure overcomes Disdaine ;
But that same foole, which most increast her paines,

Quites Mirabell from dreed : Was Scorne ; who, having in his hand a whip,

Serena, found of salvages,
Her therewith yirks; and still, when she complaines,

By Calepine is freed.
The more he laughes, and does her closely quip,
To see her sore lament and bite her tender lip. Ye gentle ladies, in whose soveraine powre

Love hath the glory of his kingdome left, Whose cruell handling when that squire beheld, And th' hearts of men, as your eternall dowre, And saw those villaines her so vildely use,

In yron chaines, of liberty bereft, His gentle heart with indignation sweld,

Delivered hath unto your hands by gift ; And could no lenger beare so great abuse

Be well aware how ye the same doe use, As such a lady so to beate and bruse;

That pride doe not to tyranny you lift; But, to him stepping, such a stroke him lent, Least, if men you of cruelty accuse, That forst him th' halter from his hand to loose, He from you take that chiefedome which ye doe And, maugre all his might, backe to relent:

abuse. Else bad he surely there bene slaine, or fowly shent.

And as ye soft and tender are by kynde, The villaine, wroth for greeting bim so sore, Adornd with goodly gifts of beauties grace, Gathered himselfe together soone againe,

So be ye soft and tender eeke in mynde; And with his yron batton which he bore

But cruelty and hardnesse froin you chace, Let drive at him so dreadfully amaine,

That all your other praises will deface, That for his safety he did him constraine

And from you turne the love of men to hate : To give him ground, and shift to every side, Ensample take of Mirabellaes case, Rather than once his burden to sustaine :

Who from the high degree of happy state For bootlesse thing him seemed to abide (pride. Fell into wretched woes, which she repented late. So mighty blowes, or prove the puissaunce of his

Who after thraldome of the gentle squire, Like as a mastiffe having at a bay

Which she beheld with lamentable eye, A salvage bull, whose cruell hornes doe threat Was touched with compassion entire, Desperate daunger, if he them assay,

And much lamented his calamity, Traceth his ground, and round about doth beat, That for her sake fell into misery; To spy where he may some advantage get, Which booted nought for prayers nor for threat The whiles the beast doth rage and loudly rore; To hope for to release or mollify; So did the squire, the whiles the carle did fret For aye the more that she did them entreat, And fume in his disdainefull mynd the more, The more they him misust, and cruelly did beat. And oftentimes by Turmagant and Mahound swore. Nathelesse so sharpely still he him pursewd,

So as they forward on their way did pas, That at advantage him at last he tooke,

Him still reviling and afflicting sore,

They met prince Arthure with sir Enias,
Wben his foote slipt, (that slip he dearely rewd)
And with his yron club to ground him strooke;

(That was that courteous knight, whom he before Where still he lay, ne out of swoune awooke,

Having subdew'd yet did to life restore ;) Till heavy hand the carle upon him layd,

To whom as they approcht, they gan augment

Their cruelty, and him to punish more,
And bound bim fast: tho, when he up did looke
And saw himselfe captív'd, he was dismayd,

Scourging and haling him more vehement;
Ne powre had to withstand, ne hope of any ayd.

As if it them should grieve to see his punishment. Then up he made him rise, and forward fare,

The squire himselfe, whenas he saw his lord Led in a rope which both his hands did bynd;

The witnesse of his wretchednesse in place, Ne ought that foole for pitty did him spare,

Was much asham'd that with an hempen cord But with his whip him following behynd

He like a dog was led in captive case, Him often scourg'd, and forst his feete to fynd:

And did his head for bashfuluesse abase, And otherwhiles with bitter mockes and mowes

As loth to see or to be seene at all; He would him scorne, that to his gentle mynd

Shame would be bid: but whenas Enias Was much more grievous then the others blowes :

Beheld two such, of two such villaines thrall, Words sharpely wound, but greatest griefe of scorn

His inanly mynde was much emmoved therewithall; ing growes.

And to the prince thus sayd ; " See you, sir Knight, The faire Serena, when she saw him fall

The greatest shame that ever eye yet saw, Under that villaines club, then surely thought Yond lady aud her squire with foule despight That slaine he was, or made a wretched thrall, Abusde, against all reason and all law, And fled away with all the speede she mought Without regard of pitty or of awe! To seeke for safety; which long time she sought; See! how they doe that squire beat and revile ! And past through many perils by the way,

See ! how they doe the lady bale and draw ! Ere she againe to Calepine was brought:

But, if ye please to lend me leave awhile, The which discourse as pow I must delay, I will them sooue acquite, and both of blame asTill Mirabellaes fortunes I doe furtber say.

soile."

The prince assented ; and then he, streightway But yet the prince so well enured was Dismounting light, his shield about him threw, With such huge strokes, approved oft in fight, With which approaching thus he gan to say; That way to them he gave forth right to pas; Abide, ye caytive treachetours untrew,

Ne would endure the daunger of their might, That have with treason thralled into you

But wayt advantage when they downe did light. These two, unworthy of your wretched bands; At last the caytive after long discourse, And now your crime with cruelty pursew : When all his strokes he saw aroyded quite, Abide, and from them lay your loathly hands; Resolved in one t' assemble all his force, Or else abide the death that hard before you stands.” And make one end of him without rath or remorse. The villaine stayd not aunswer to invent;

His dreadfull hand he heaved op aloft, But, with his yron club preparing way,

And with his dreadfull instrument of yre His mindes sad message backe unto him sent; Thought sure have pownded him to powder soft, The which descended with such dreadfull sway, Or deepe emboweld in the earth entyre; That seemed nought the course thereof could stay, But Fortune did not with his will conspire: No more then lightening from the lofty sky: For, ere his stroke attayneil his intent, Ne list the knight the powre thereof assay, The noble childe, preventing his desire, Whose doome was death; but, lightly slipping by, Under his club with wary boldnesse went, Unwares defrauded his intended destiny:

And smote him on the knee that never yet was bent. And, to requite him with the like againe,

It never yet was bent, ne bent it now, With his sharpe sword he fiercely at him hew, Albe the stroke so strong and puissant were, And strooke so strongly, that the carle with paine That seem'd a marble pillour it could bow; Saved himselfe but that he there him slew; Bnt all that leg, which did his body beare, Yet sav'd not so, but that the blood it drew, It crackt throughout, (yet did no bluud appeare) And gave his foe good hope of victory :

So as it was unable to support Who, therewith flesht, upon him set anew, Su huge a burden on such broken geare, And with the second stroke thought certainely But fell to ground like to a lumpe of durt; To have supplyde the first, and paide the usury. Whence he assayed to rise, but could not for his hurt. But Fortune aunswered not unto his call;

Eftsoones the prince to him full nimbly stept, For, as his hand was heaved up on hight,

And, least he should recover foote againe, The villaine met him in the middle fall,

His head meant from his shoulders to have swept: And with his club bet backe his brond-yron bright which when the lady saw, she cryde amaine; Su forcibly, that with his owne hands might “ Stay, stay, sir Knight, for love of God abstaine Rebeaten backe upon himselfe againe

From that unwares ye weetlesse doe intend; Ile driven was to ground in selfe despight; Slay not that carle, though worthy to be slaine ; From whence ere he recovery could gaine,

For more on bim doth then himselfe depend; He in his necke had set his foote with fell disdaine. My life will by his death have lamentable end."

With that the foole, which did that end awayte, He staide his hand according her desire,
Came running in; and, whilest on ground he lay, Yet pathëmore him suffred to arize;
Laide heavy hands on him and held so strayte, But, still suppressing, gan of her inquire,
That downe he kept him with his scornefall sway, What meaning mote those uncouth words comprize,
So as he could not weld him any way:

That in that villaines health her safety lies; The whiles that other villaine went about

That were no might in man, nor heart in knights, Him to have bound and thrald without delay; Which durst her dreaded reskue enterprize, The whiles the foole did bim revile and fout, Yet Heavens themselves, that favour feeble rights, Threatning to yoke them two and tame their cor- Would for itselfe redresse, and punish such des age stout.

pights. As when a sturdy ploughman with his hynde Then bursting forth in teares, which gushed fast By strength have overthrowne a stubborne steare, Like many water-streams, awhile she stayd; They downe him bold, and fast with cords do bynde, Till the sharpe passion being overpast, Till they him force the buxome yoke to beare : Her tongue to her restord, then thus she sayd; So did these two this knight oft tug and teare. "Nor Heavens, nor men, can me most wretched mayd Which when the prince beheld, there standing by, Deliver from the doome of my desart, He left his lofty steede to aide him neare; The which the god of love hath on me layd, And, buckling soone himselfe, gan fiercely fly And damned to endure this direfull smart, Upou that carie, to save his friend from ieopardy. For penaunce of my proud and hard rebellious hart. The villaine, leaving him unto his mate

“In prime of youthly yeares, when first the flowre To be captír'd and handled as he list,

Of beauty gan to bud, and bloosme delight; Himselfe addrest unto this new debate,

And Nature me endu'd with plenteous dowre And with his club him all about so blist,

Of all her gifts, that pleasde each living sight; That he which way to turne him scarcely wist: I was belov'd of many a gentle knight, Sometimes aloft he layd, sometimes alow,

And sude and suught with all the service dew: Now here, now there, and oft him neare he mist; Full many a one for me deepe groand and sigh't, So doubtfully, that hardly one could know

And to the dore of death for sorrow drew, Whether more wary were to give or ward the blow. Complayning out on me that would not on them rew.

slose."

- But let them love that list, or live or die; Meane while the salvage man, when he beheld Me list not die for any lovers doole:

That huge great foole oppressing th' other knight, Ne list me leave my loved libertie

Whom with his weight unweldy downe he held, To pitty him that list to play the foole:

He flew upon him like a greedy kight To love myself I learned had in schoole.

l'nto some carrion offered to his sight; Thus I triumphed long in lovers paine,

And, downe him plucking, with his nayles and teeth And, sitting carelesse on the scorners stoole, Gan him to bale, and teare, and scratch, and bite; Did laugh at those that did lament and plaine : And, from him taking his owne whip, therewith But all is now repayd with interest againe. So sore him scourgeth that the bloud downe followeth. " For loe! the winged god, that woundeth harts, And sure I weene, had not the ladies cry Causde me be called to accompt therefore; Procard the prince his cruell hand to stay, And for revengement of those wrongfull smarts, He would with whipping him have done to dye: Which I to others did inflict afore,

But, being cheekt, he did abstaine streigiitway Addeem'd me to endure this penaunce sore; And let himn rise. Then thus the prince gan say That in this wize, and this unmeete array, “ Now, lady, sith your fortunes thus dispuse, With these two lewd companions, and no more, That, if ye list have liberty, ve may; Disdaine and Scome,lthrough theworld shouldstray, Unto yourselfe I freely leave to chose, Till I have sav'd so many as I earst did slay.” Whether I shall you leave, or from these villaines “Certes," sayd then the pripce, “the god is inst, “ Ah! nay, sir Knight," said she, “ it may nut be, That taketh vengeaunce of his peoples spoile: But that I needes must by all meapes fulfill For were no law in love, but all that lust

This penaunce, which enjoyned is to me, Might them oppresse, and painefully turmoile, Least unto me betide a greater ill: His kingdome would continue but a while. Yet no lesse thankes to you for your good will.” But tell me, lady, wherefore doe you beare So humbly taking leave she turnd aside: This bottle thus before you with such toile, But Arthure with the rest went onward still And eeke this wallet at your backe arreare, On his first quest, in which did him betide That for these carles to carry much more comely A great adventure, which did him from them devide. were ?"

But first it falleth me by course to tell « Here in this bottle,” sayd the sory mayd,

Of faire Serena; who, as earst you heard, " I put the tears of my contrition,

When first the gentle squire at variaunce fel! Till to the brim I have it full defrayd:

With those two carles, Hled fast away, afeard And in this bag, which I behinde me don,

Of villany to be to her inferd: 1 put repentaunce for things past and gon. So fresh the image of her former dread, Yet is the bottle leake, and bag so torne,

Yet dwelling in her eye, to her appeard, That all which I put in fals out anon,

That erery fonte did tremble which did trend, And is behinde me trudden downe of Scorne,

And every body two, and tuo she foure did read. Who mocketh all my paine, and laughs the more I mourn."

Through hils and dales, through bushes and through The infant hearkned wisely to ber tale,

breres, And wondred much at Cupids iudgment wise,

Long thus she fled, till that at last she thought That could so meekly make proud hearts avale,

Herselfe now past the perill of her feares: And wreake himselfe on them that him despise.

Then looking round about, and seeing nought Then suffred he Disdaine up to arise,

Which doubt of daunger to her offer monght, Who was not able up himselfe to reare,

She from her palfrey lighted on the plaine ; By meanes his leg, through his late lucklesse prise, of her long travel and turmoyling paine;

And, sitting downe, herscife awhile bethought Was crackt in twaine, but by his foolish feare Was holpen up, who him supported standing neare. And often did of love, and oft of lucke, complaines But being up he lookt againe aloft,

And evermore she blamed Calepine, As if he never had received fall;

The good sir Calepine, her owne true knight, And with sterne eye-brows stared at him oft,

As th' onely author of her wofull tine ; As if he would have daunted him withall:

For being of his love to her so light, And standing on his tiptoes, to seeme tall,

As her to leave in such a piteous plight: Downe on his golden feete he often gazed,

Yet never turtle truer to his make, As if such pride the other could apall;

Then he was tride unto his lady bright: Who was so far from being ought amazed,

Who all this while endured for her sake That he his lookes despised, and his boast dispraized. Great perill of his life, and restlesse paines did take. Then turning backe unto that captive thrall, Tho whenas all her plaints she had displayd, Who all this while stood there beside them bound, And well disburdened her engrieved brest, Unwilling to be knowne or seene at all,

Upon the grasse herselfe adowne she lay'id; He from those bands weend him to have onwound; Where, being tyrde with travell, and opprest But when approaching neare he plainely found With sorrow, she betooke herselfe to rest: It was his owne true groome, the gentle squire, There whilest in Morpheus bosome safe she lay. He thereat wext exceedingly astound,

fearelesse of ought that mote her peace mulest, And him did oft embrace, and oft admire,

False Fortune did her safety betray Ne could with seeing satisfic bis great desire. Unto a strangemischaunce, that inenac'd herdecay.

In these wylde deserts, where she now abode, Her yvorie neck; her alablaster brest;
There dwelt a salvage nation, which did live Her paps, which like white silken pillowes were
Of stealth and spoile, and making nightly rode For Love in soft delight thereon to rest;
Into their neighbours borders; ne did give

Her tender sides; her bellie white and clere, Themselves to any trade, (as for to drive

Which like an altar did itselfe uprere
The painefull plough, or cattell for to breed, To offer sacrifice divine thereon;
Or by adventrous merchandize to thrive,)

Her goodly thighes, whose glorie did appeare But on the labours of poor men to feed,

Like a triumphall arch, and thereupon (won. And serve their owne necessities with others need. The spoiles of princes hang'd which were in battel Thereto they usde one most accursed order, Those daintie parts, the dearlings of delight, To eate the flesh of men, whom they mote fynde, Which mote not be prophan’d of common eyes, And straungers to devoure, which on their border Those villeins vew'd with loose lascivious sight, Were brought by errour or by wreckfull wynde: And closely tempted with their craftie spyes; A monstrous cruelty gainst course of kynde ! And some of them gan mongsi themselves devize They, towards evening wandering every way Thereof by force to take their beastly pleasure: To seeke for booty, came by fortune blynde But them the priest rebuking did advize Whereas this lady, like a sheepe astray,

To dare not to pollute so sacred threasure (measure. Now drowned in the depth of sleepe all fearlesse lay. Vow'd to the gods: Religion held even theeves in Soone as they spide her, Lord! what gladfull glee So, being stayd, they her from thence directed They made amongst themselves! but when her face Unto a litle grove not farre asyde, Like the faire yvory shining they did see,

In which an altar shortly they erected Each gan his fellow solace and embrace

To slay her on. And now the Eventyde For ioy of such good hap by heavenly grace. His brode black wings had through the Heavens wyde Then gan they to devize what course to take; By this dispred, that was the tyme ordayned Whether to slay her there upon the place, For such a dismall deed, their guilt to hyde: Or suffer her out of her sleepe to wake,

Of few greene turfes an altar soone they fayded, And then her eate attonce, or many meales to make. And deckt it all with flowres which they nigh baod

obtayned. The best advizement was, of bad, to let her Sleepe out her fill without encomberment; Tho, whenas all things readie were aright, Por sleepe, they sayd, would make her battill batter: The damzell was before the altar set, Then, when she wakt, they all gave one consent Being alreadie dead with fearefull fright: That, since by grace of god she there was sent, To whom the priest with naked armes full net Unto their god they would her sacrifize,

Approching nigh, and murdrous knife well whet, Whose share, her guiltlesse bloud they would present: Gan mutter close a certain secret charine, But of her dainty Aesh they did devize

With other divelish ceremonies met: To make a common feast, and feed with gurmandize. Which doen, he gan aloft t' advance his arme,

Whereat they shouted all, and made a loud alarme. So round about her they themselves did place Upon the grasse, and diversely dispose,

Then gan the bagpypes and the hornes to shrill As each thought best to spend the lingring space: And skrieke aloud, that, with the peoples royce Some with their eyes the daintest morsels chose; Confused, did the ayre with terror fill, Some praise her paps; some praise her lips and nose; And made the wood to tremble at the noyce: Some whet their knives, and strip their elboes bare: The whyles she wayld, the more they did reioyce. The priest himselfe a garland doth compose Now mote ye understand that to this grove Of finest flowers, and with full busie care

Sir Calepine, by chaunce more then by choyce, His bloudy vessels wash and holy fire prepare. The selfe same evening fortune hether drove,

As he to seeke Serena through the woods did rove. The damzell wakes; then all attonce upstart, And round about her flocke, like many flies, Long had he sought her, and through many a soyle Whooping and hallowing on every part,

Had traveld still on foot in heavie armes, As if they would have rent the brasen skies. Ne ought was tyred with his endlesse toyle, Which when she sees with ghastly griefful eies, Ne ought was feared of his certaine harmes: Her heart does quake, and deadly pallid hew And now, all weetlesse of the wretched stormes Benumbes her cheekes : then out aloud she cries, In which his love was lost, he slept full fast; Where none is nigh to heare, that will her rew, Till, being waked with these loud alarmes, And rends her golden locks, and snowy brests em- He lightly started up like one agbast,

(past. brew.

And catching up his arms streight to the noise forth But all bootes not; they hands upon her lay: There by thuncertaine glims of starry night, And first they spoile her of her iewels deare, And by the twinkling of their sacred fire, And afterwards of all her rich array;

He mute perceive a litle dawning sight The which amongst them they in peeces teare, Of all which there was doing in that quire : And of the pray each one a part duth beare. Mongst whom a woman spoyled of all attire Now being naked, to their sordid eyes

He spyde lamenting her unluckie strife, The goodly threasures of nature appeare :

And groning sore from grieved hart entire: Which as they view with lustfull fantasyes,

Eftsoones he saw one with a naked knife Each wisheth to himselfe, and to the rest envyes. Readie to launch her brest, and let out loved life.

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