Yett wist no creature whence that hevenly sweet Proceeded, yet each one felt secretly Himselfe thereby refte of his sences meet, And ravished with rare impression in his sprite.
Great ioy was made that day of yong and old, And solemne feast proclaymd throughout the land. That their exceeding merth may not be told: Suffice it heare by signes to understand The usuall ioyes at knitting of loves band. Thrise happy man the knight himselfe did hold, Possessed of his ladies hart and hand;
And ever, when his eie did her behold,
His hart did seeme to melt in pleasures manifold.
Her ioyous presence, and sweet company, In full content he there did long enioy; Ne wicked envy, ne vile gealosy,
His deare delights were hable to annoy : Yet, swimming in that sea of blissfull ioy, He nought forgot how he whilome had sworne, In case he could that monstrous beast destroy, Unto his Faery queene backe to retourne; The which he shortly did; and Una left to mourne.
Now, strike your sailes, yee iolly mariners, For we be come unto a quiet rode, Where we must land some of her passengers,
And light this weary vessell of her lode, Here she awhile may make her safe abode, Till she repaired have her tackles spent, And wants supplide; and then againe abroad On the long voiage whereto she is bent: Well may she speede, and fairely finish her intent!
Guyon is of immodest merth
Led into loose desyre;
Fights with Cymochles, whiles his bro
ther burnes in furious fyre.
A HARDER lesson to learn continence In ioyous pleasure then in grievous paine : For sweetnesse doth allure the weaker sence So strongly, that uneathes it can refraine From that which feeble nature covets faine : But griefe and wrath, that be her enemies And foes of life, she better can restraine : Yet Vertue vauntes in both her victories; And Guyon in them all shewes godly maysteries.
Whom bold Cymochles traveiling to finde, With cruell purpose bent to wreake on him The wrath which Atin kindled in his mind, Came to a river, by whose utmost brim Wayting to passe he saw whereas did swim Along the shore, as swift as glaunce of eye, A litle gondelay, bedecked trim
With boughes and arbours woven cunningly, That like a litle forrest seemed outwardly.
And therein sate a lady fresh and fayre, Making sweete solace to herselfe alone:
Sometimes she song as lowd as larke in ayre, Sometimes she laught, that nigh her breath was gone;
Yet was there not with her else any one,
That to her might move cause of meriment: Matter of merth enough, though there was none, She could devise; and thousand waies invent To feede her foolish humour and vaine iolliment.
Which when far off Cymochles heard and saw, He lowdly cald to such as were abord
The little barke unto the shore to draw, And him to ferry over that deepe ford. The merry mariner unto his word
Soon hearkned, and her painted bote streightway Turnd to the shore, where that same warlike lord She in receiv'd; but Atin by no way
She would admit, albe the knight her much did pray.
Eftsoones her shallow ship away did slide, More swift then swallow sheres the liquid skye, Withouten oare or pilot it to guide,
Or winged canvas with the wind to fly : Onely she turnd a pin, and by and by It cut away upon the yielding wave, (Ne cared she her course for to apply)
For it was taught the way which she would have, And both from rocks and flats itself could wisely
And all the way the wanton damsell found New merth her passenger to entertaine; For she in pleasant purpose did abound, And greatly ioyed merry tales to fayne, Of which a store-house did with her remaine; Yet seemed, nothing well they her became, For all her wordes she drownd with laughter vaine, And wanted grace in utt'ring of the same, That turned all her pleasaunce to a scoffing game.
And other whiles vain toyes she would devize, As her fantasticke wit did most delight: Sometimes her head she fondly would aguize With gaudy girlonds, or fresh flowrets dight About her necke, or rings of rushes plight : Sometimes, to do him laugh, she would assay To laugh at shaking of the leavës light, Or to behold the water worke and play About her little frigot, therein making way.
Her light behaviour and loose dalliaunce Gave wondrous great contentment to the knight, That of his way he had no sovenaunce, Nor care of vow'd revenge and cruell fight; But to weake wench did yield his martiall might. So easie was to quench his flamed minde With one sweete drop of sensuall delight! So easie is t'appease the stormy winde Of malice in the calme of pleasaunt womankind!
Diverse discourses in their way they spent ; Mongst which Cymochles of her questioned Both what she was, and what that usage ment, Which in her cott she daily practized :
"Vaine man," said she, "that wouldest be reckoned
A straunger in thy home, and ignorant
Of Phædria, (for so my name is red)
Of Phædria, thine own fellow servaunt; For thou to serve Acrasia.thy selfe doest vaunt.
"In this wide inland sea, that hight by name The Idle Lake, my wandring ship I row, That knowes her port, and thether sayles by ayme, Ne care ne feare I how the wind to blow, Or whether swift I wend or whether slow : Both slow and swift alike do serve my tourne; Ne swelling Neptune ne lowd-thundring love Can chaunge my cheare, or make me ever mourne : My litle boat can safely passe this perilous bourne."
Whiles thus she talked, and whiles thus she toyd, They were far past the passage which he spake, And come unto an island waste and voyd, That floated in the midst of that great lake; There her small gondelay her port did make, And that gay payre issewing on the shore Disburdned her their way they forward take Into the land that lay them faire before,
Whose pleasaunce she him shewd, and plentifull great store.
It was a chosen plott of fertile land, Emongst wide waves sett, like a litle nest, As if it had by Natures cunning hand Bene choycely picked out from all the rest, And laid forth for ensample of the best :
No daintie flowre or herbe that growes on ground, Nor arborett with painted blossomes drest
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