The Faerie Queene · Book III · Canto 3 4 (2/2)

“O! what availes it of immortall seed

To beene ybredd and never borne to dye?

Farre better I it deeme to die with speed

Then waste in woe and waylfull miserye:

Who dyes, the utmost dolor doth abye;

But who that lives is lefte to waile his losse:

So life is losse, and death felicity:

Sad life worse then glad death; and greater crosse

To see frends grave, then dead the grave self to engrosse.

“But if the heavens did his dayes envie,

And my short blis maligne, yet mote they will

Thus much afford me, ere that he did die,

That the dim eies of my deare Marinell

I mote that close, and him bed farewell,

Sith other offices for mother meet

They would nor graunt⁠—

Yet, maulgre them, farewell, my sweetest sweet!

Farewell, my sweetest sonne, sith we no more shall meet!

Thus when they all had sorowed their fill,

They softly gan to search his griesly wownd:

And, that they might him handle more at will,

They him disarmd; and, spredding on the grownd

Their watchet mantles fridgd with silver rownd,

They softly wipt away the gelly blood

From th’orifice; which having well upbownd,

They pourd in soveraine balme and Nectar good,

Good both for erthly med’cine and for hevenly food.

Tho when the lilly handed liagore

(This Liagore whilome had learned skill

In leaches craft, by great Apolloes lore,

Sith her whilome upon high Pindus hill

He loved, and at last her wombe did fill

With hevenly seed, whereof wise Pæon sprong)

Did feele his pulse, she knew there staied still

Some litle life his feeble sprites emong;

Which to his mother told, despeire she from her flong.

Tho, up him taking in their tender hands,

They easely unto her charett beare:

Her teme at her commaundement quiet stands,

Whiles they the corse into her wagon reare,

And strowe with flowres the lamentable beare.

Then all the rest into their coches clim,

And through the brackish waves their passage sheare;

Upon great Neptunes necke they softly swim,

And to her watry chamber swiftly carry him.

Deepe in the bottome of the sea her bowre

Is built of hollow billowes heaped hye,

Like to thicke clouds that threat a stormy showre,

And vauted all within, like to the Skye,

In which the Gods doe dwell eternally;

There they him laide in easy couch well dight,

And sent in haste for Tryphon, to apply

Salves to his wounds, and medicines of might;

For Tryphon of sea gods the soveraine leach is hight.

The whiles the Nymphes sit all about him rownd,

Lamenting his mishap and heavy plight;

And ofte his mother, vewing his wide wownd,

Cursed the hand that did so deadly smight

Her dearest sonne, her dearest harts delight:

But none of all those curses overtooke

The warlike Maid, th’ensample of that might;

But fairely well shee thryv’d, and well did brooke

Her noble deeds, ne her right course for ought forsooke.

Yet did false Archimage her still pursew,

To bring to passe his mischievous intent,

Now that he had her singled from the crew

Of courteous knights, the Prince and Faery gent,

Whom late in chace of beauty excellent

Shee lefte, pursewing that same foster strong,

Of whose fowle outrage they impatient,

And full of firy zele, him followed long,

To reskew her from shame, and to revenge her wrong.

Through thick and thin, through mountains and through playns,

Those two great champions did attonce pursew

The fearefull damzell with incessant payns;

Who from them fled, as light-foot hare from vew

Of hunter swifte and sent of howndes trew.

At last they came unto a double way;

Where, doubtfull which to take, her to reskew,

Themselves they did dispart, each to assay

Whether more happy were to win so goodly pray.

But Timias, the Princes gentle Squyre,

That Ladies love unto his Lord forlent,

And with proud envy and indignant yre

After that wicked foster fiercely went:

So beene they three three sondry wayes ybent;

But fayrest fortune to the Prince befell,

Whose chaunce it was, that soone he did repent,

To take that way in which that Damozell

Was fledd afore, affraid of him as feend of hell.

At last of her far off he gained vew.

Then gan he freshly pricke his fomy steed,

And ever as he nigher to her drew,

So evermore he did increase his speed,

And of each turning still kept wary heed:

Alowd to her he oftentimes did call,

To doe away vaine doubt and needlesse dreed:

Full myld to her he spake, and oft let fall

Many meeke wordes to stay and comfort her withall.

But nothing might relent her hasty flight,

So deepe the deadly feare of that foule swaine

Was earst impressed in her gentle spright.

Like as a fearefull Dove, which through the raine

Of the wide ayre her way does cut amaine,

Having farre off espyde a Tassell gent,

Which after her his nimble winges doth straine,

Doubleth her hast for feare to bee for-hent,

And with her pineons cleaves the liquid firmament.

With no lesse hast, and eke with no lesse dreed,

That fearefull Ladie fledd from him, that ment

To her no evill thought nor evill deed;

Yet former feare of being fowly shent

Carried her forward with her first intent:

And though, oft looking backward, well she vewde

Her selfe freed from that foster insolent,

And that it was a knight which now her sewde,

Yet she no lesse the knight feard then that villein rude.

His uncouth shield and straunge armes her dismayd,

Whose like in Faery lond were seldom seene,

That fast she from him fledd, no lesse afrayd

Then of wilde beastes if she had chased beene;

Yet he her followd still with corage keene

So long, that now the golden Hesperus

Was mounted high in top of heaven sheene,

And warnd his other brethren joyeous

To light their blessed lamps in Joves eternall hous.

All suddeinly dim wox the dampish ayre,

And griesly shadowes covered heaven bright,

That now with thousand starres was decked fayre:

Which when the Prince beheld, a lothfull sight,

And that perforce, for want of lenger light,

He mote surceasse his suit, and lose the hope

Of his long labour, he gan fowly wyte

His wicked fortune that had turnd aslope,

And cursed night that reft from him so goodly scope.

Tho, when her wayes he could no more descry,

But to and fro at disaventure strayd;

Like as a ship, whose Lodestar suddeinly

Covered with cloudes her Pilott hath dismayd;

His wearisome pursuit perforce he stayd,

And from his loftie steed dismounting low

Did let him forage. Downe himselfe he layd

Upon the grassy ground to sleepe a throw:

The cold earth was his couch, the hard steele his pillow.

But gentle Sleepe envyde him any rest:

In stead thereof sad sorow and disdaine

Of his hard hap did vexe his noble brest,

And thousand Fancies bett his ydle brayne

With their light wings, the sights of semblants vaine.

Oft did he wish that Lady faire mote bee

His Faery Queene, for whom he did complaine,

Or that his Faery Queene were such as shee;

And ever hasty Night be blamed bitterlie.

“Night! thou foule Mother of annoyaunce sad,

Sister of heavie death, and nourse of woe,

Which wast begot in heaven, but for thy bad

And brutish shape thrust downe to hell below,

Where, by the grim floud of Cocytus slow,

Thy dwelling is in Herebus black hous,

(Black Herebus, thy husband, is the foe

Of all the Gods,) where thou ungratious

Halfe of thy dayes doest lead in horrour hideous.

“What had th’eternall Maker need of thee

The world in his continuall course to keepe,

That doest all thinges deface, ne lettest see

The beautie of his worke? Indeed, in sleepe

The slouthfull body that doth love to steepe

His lustlesse limbes, and drowne his baser mind,

Doth praise thee oft, and oft from Stygian deepe

Calles thee his goddesse, in his errour blind,

And great Dame Natures handmaide chearing every kind.

“But well I wote, that to an heavy hart

Thou art the roote and nourse of bitter cares,

Breeder of new, renewer of old smarts:

Instead of rest thou lendest rayling teares;

Instead of sleepe thou sendest troublous feares

And dreadfull visions, in the which alive

The dreary image of sad death appeares:

So from the wearie spirit thou doest drive

Desired rest, and men of happinesse deprive.

“Under thy mantle black there hidden lye

Light-shonning thefte, and traiterous intent,

Abhorred bloodshed, and vile felony,

Shamefull deceipt, and daunger imminent,

Fowle horror, and eke hellish dreriment:

All these, I wote, in thy protection bee,

And light doe shonne for feare of being shent;

For light ylike is loth’d of them and thee;

And all that lewdnesse love doe hate the light to see.

“For day discovers all dishonest wayes,

And sheweth each thing as it is in deed:

The prayses of high God he faire displayes,

And his large bountie rightly doth areed:

Dayes dearest children be the blessed seed

Which darknesse shall subdue and heaven win:

Truth is his daughter; he her first did breed

Most sacred virgin without spot of sinne.

Our life is day, but death with darknesse doth begin.

“O! when will day then turne to me againe,

And bring with him his long expected light?

O Titan! hast to reare thy joyous waine;

Speed thee to spred abroad thy beames bright,

And chace away this too long lingring night;

Chace her away, from whence she came, to hell:

She, she it is, that hath me done despight:

There let her with the damned spirits dwell,

And yield her rowme to day that can it governe well.”

Thus did the Prince that wearie night outweare

In restlesse anguish and unquiet paine;

And earely, ere the morrow did upreare

His deawy head out of the Ocean maine,

He up arose, as halfe in great disdaine,

And clombe unto his steed. So forth he went

With heavy look and lumpish pace, that plaine

In him bewraid great grudge and maltalent:

His steed eke seemd t’apply his steps to his intent.