The Faerie Queene · Book III · Canto 3 5 (2/2)

Where when they saw that goodly boy with blood

Defowled, and their Lady dresse his wownd,

They wondred much; and shortly understood

How him in deadly case theyr Lady fownd,

And reskewed out of the heavy stownd.

Eftsoones his warlike courser, which was strayd

Farre in the woodes whiles that he lay in swownd,

She made those Damzels search; which being stayd

They did him set theron, and forth with them convayd.

Into that forest farre they thence him led,

Where was their dwelling, in a pleasant glade

With mountaines rownd about environed,

And mightie woodes which did the valley shade

And like a stately Theatre it made,

Spreading it selfe into a spatious plaine:

And in the midst a little river plaide

Emongst the pumy stones, which seemd to plaine

With gentle murmure that his cours they did restraine.

Beside the same a dainty place there lay,

Planted with mirtle trees and laurells greene,

In which the birds song many a lovely lay

Of Gods high praise, and of their loves sweet teene,

As it an earthly Paradize had beene:

In whose enclosed shadow there was pight

A faire Pavilion, scarcely to bee seene,

The which was al within most richly dight,

That greatest Princes liking it mote well delight.

Thither they brought that wounded Squyre, and layd

In easie couch his feeble limbes to rest.

He rested him awhile; and then the Mayd

His readie wound with better salves new drest:

Daily she dressed him, and did the best

His grievous hurt to guarish, that she might;

That shortly she his dolour hath redrest,

And his foule sore reduced to faire plight:

It she reduced, but himselfe destroyed quight.

O foolish physick, and unfruitfull paine,

That heales up one, and makes another wound!

She his hurt thigh to him recurd againe,

But hurt his hart, the which before was sound,

Through an unwary dart, which did rebownd

From her faire eyes and gratious countenaunce.

What bootes it him from death to be unbownd,

To be captived in endlesse duraunce

Of sorrow and despeyre without aleggeaunce!

Still as his wound did gather, and grow hole,

So still his hart woxe sore, and health decayd:

Madnesse to save a part, and lose the whole!

Still whenas he beheld the heavenly Mayd,

Whiles dayly playsters to his wownd she layd,

So still his Malady the more increast,

The whiles her matchlesse beautie him dismayd.

Ah God! what other could he do at least,

But love so fayre a Lady that his life releast?

Long while he strove in his corageous brest

With reason dew the passion to subdew,

And love for to dislodge out of his nest:

Still when her excellencies he did vew,

Her soveraine bountie and celestiall hew,

The same to love he strongly was constraynd;

But when his meane estate he did revew,

He from such hardy boldnesse was restraynd,

And of his lucklesse lott and cruell love thus playnd:

“Unthankfull wretch,” (said he) “is this the meed,

With which her soverain mercy thou doest quight?

Thy life she saved by her gratious deed;

But thou doest weene with villeinous despight

To blott her honour, and her heavenly light.

Dye rather, dye, then so disloyally

Deeme of her high desert, or seeme so light:

Fayre death it is, to shonne more shame, to dy:

Dye rather, dy, then ever love disloyally.

“But if to love disloyalty it bee,

Shall I then hate her that from deathes dore

Me brought? ah, farre be such reproch fro mee!

What can I lesse doe then her love therefore,

Sith I her dew reward cannot restore?

Dye rather, dye, and dying doe her serve;

Dying her serve, and living her adore;

Thy life she gave, thy life she doth deserve:

Dye rather, dye, then ever from her service swerve.

“But, foolish boy, what bootes thy service bace

To her to whom the hevens doe serve and sew?

Thou, a mean Squyre of meeke and lowly place;

She, hevenly borne and of celestiall hew.

How then? of all love taketh equall vew;

And doth not highest God vouchsafe to take

The love and service of the basest crew?

If she will not, dye meekly for her sake:

Dye rather, dye, then ever so faire love forsake!”

Thus warreid he long time against his will;

Till that through weaknesse he was forst at last

To yield himselfe unto the mightie ill,

Which, as a victour proud, gan ransack fast

His inward partes, and all his entrayles wast,

That neither blood in face nor life in hart

It left, but both did quite drye up and blast;

As percing levin, which the inner part

Of every thing consumes, and calcineth by art.

Which seeing fayre Belphœbe gan to feare,

Least that his wound were inly well not heald,

Or that the wicked steele empoysned were:

Litle shee weend that love he close conceald.

Yet still he wasted, as the snow congeald

When the bright sunne his beams theron doth beat:

Yet never he his hart to her reveald;

But rather chose to dye for sorow great,

Then with dishonorable termes her to entreat.

She, gracious Lady, yet no paines did spare

To doe him ease, or doe him remedy.

Many Restoratives of vertues rare,

And costly Cordialles she did apply,

To mitigate his stubborne malady:

But that sweet Cordiall, which can restore

A love-sick hart, she did to him envy;

To him, and to all th’unworthy world forlore

She did envy that soveraine salve in secret store.

That daintie Rose, the daughter of her Morne,

More deare then life she tendered, whose flowre

The girlond of her honour did adorne:

Ne suffred she the Middayes scorching powre,

Ne the sharp Northerne wind thereon to showre;

But lapped up her silken leaves most chayre,

When so the froward skye began to lowre;

But, soone as calmed was the christall ayre,

She did it fayre dispred and let to florish fayre.

Eternall God, in his almightie powre,

To make ensample of his heavenly grace,

In Paradize whylome did plant this flowre;

Whence he it fetcht out of her native place,

And did in stocke of earthly flesh enrace,

That mortall men her glory should admyre.

In gentle Ladies breste and bounteous race

Of woman kind it fayrest Flowre doth spyre,

And beareth fruit of honour and all chast desyre.

Fayre ympes of beautie, whose bright shining beames

Adorne the world with like to heavenly light,

And to your willes both royalties and Reames

Subdew, through conquest of your wondrous might,

With this fayre flowre your goodly girlonds dight

Of chastity and vertue virginall,

That shall embellish more your beautie bright,

And crowne your heades with heavenly coronall,

Such as the Angels weare before Gods tribunall!

To your faire selves a faire ensample frame

Of this faire virgin, this Belphebe fayre;

To whom, in perfect love and spotlesse fame

Of chastitie, none living may compayre:

Ne poysnous Envy justly can empayre

The prayse of her fresh flowring Maydenhead;

Forthy she standeth on the highest stayre

Of th’honorable stage of womanhead,

That Ladies all may follow her ensample dead.

In so great prayse of stedfast chastity

Nathlesse she was so courteous and kynde,

Tempred with grace and goodly modesty,

That seemed those two vertues strove to fynd

The higher place in her Heroick mynd:

So striving each did other more augment,

And both encreast the prayse of woman kynde,

And both encreast her beautie excellent:

So all did make in her a perfect complement.