The Faerie Queene · Book IV · Canto 4 11 (2/2)

But past not long ere Brutus warlicke sonne,

Locrinus, them aveng’d, and the same date,

Which the proud Humber unto them had donne,

By equall dome repayd on his owne pate:

For in the selfe same river, where he late

Had drenched them, he drowned him againe,

And nam’d the river of his wretched fate;

Whose bad condition yet it doth retaine,

Oft tossed with his stormes which therein still remaine.

These after came the stony shallow Lone,

That to old Loncaster his name doth lend;

And following Dee, which Britons long ygone

Did call divine, 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.

Ne thence the Irishe Rivers absent were,

Sith no lesse famous then the rest they bee,

And joyne in neighbourhood of kingdome nere,

Why should they not likewise in love agree,

And joy 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 salvage cuntreis thorough which they pace.

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 overran,

Strong Allo tombling from Slewlogher steep,

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

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

Under Slewboome in shady grove was got,

This Gyant found her and by force deflowr’d;

Whereof conceiving, she in time forth brought

These three faire sons, which being thenceforth powrd

In three great rivers ran, and many countreis scowrd.

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 Rossepontè 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 joyne in one, ere to the sea they come;

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

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 devided 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 dueful service, as to them befell.

Then came the Bride, the lovely Medua came,

Clad in a vesture of unknowen geare

And uncouth fashion, yet her well became,

That seem’d like silver, sprinckled here and theare

With glittering spangs that did like starres appeare,

And wav’d upon, like water Chamelot,

To hide the metall, which yet every where

Bewrayd it selfe, to let men plainely wot

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

Her goodly lockes adowne her backe did flow

Unto her waste, with flowres bescattered,

The which ambrosiall odours forth did throw

To all about, and all her shoulders spred

As a new spring; and likewise on her hed

A Chapelet of sundry flowers she wore,

From under which the deawy humour shed

Did tricle downe her haire, like to the hore

Congealed litle drops which doe the morne adore.

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 upheld her spredding traine;

Under the which her feet appeared plaine,

Her silver feet, faire washt against this day:

And her before there paced Pages twaine,

Both clad in colours like, and like array,

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

And after these the Sea Nymphs marched all,

All goodly damzels, deckt with long greene haire,

Whom of their sire Nereïdes 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 Eucratè, Thetis faire,

Soft Spio, sweete Endorè, Sao sad,

Light Doto, wanton Glaucè, and Galenè glad;

White hand Eunica, proud Dynamenè,

Joyous Thalia, goodly Amphitrite,

Lovely Pasithee, kinde Eulimenè,

Light-foote Cymothoë, and sweete Melite,

Fairest Pherusa, Phao lilly white,

Wondred Agavè, Poris, and Nesæa,

With Erato that doth in love delite,

And Panopæ, and wise Protomedæa,

And snowy neckd Doris, and milkewhite Galathæa;

Speedy Hippothoë, and chaste Actea,

Large Lisianassa, and Pronæa sage,

Euagorè, and light Pontoporea,

And she that with her least word can asswage

The surging seas, when they do sorest rage,

Cymodocè, and stout Autonoë,

And Neso, and Eionè well in age,

And, seeming still to smile, Glauconomè,

And she that hight of many heastes Polynomè;

Fresh Alimeda deckt with girlond greene;

Hyponeo with salt-bedewed wrests;

Laomedia like the christall sheene;

Liagorè much praisd for wise behests;

And Psamathè for her brode snowy brests;

Cymo, Eupompè, and Themistè just;

And, she that vertue loves and vice detests,

Euarna, and Menippè true in trust,

And Nemertea learned well to rule her lust.

All these the daughters of old Nereus were,

Which have the sea in charge to them assinde,

To rule his tides, and surges to uprere,

To bring forth stormes, or fast them to upbinde,

And sailers save from wreckes of wrathfull winde.

And yet, besides, three thousand more there were

Of th’Oceans seede, but Joves and Phœbus kinde;

The which in floods and fountaines doe appere,

And all mankinde do nourish with their waters clere.

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, Cymodocè;

Which, for my Muse her selfe now tyred has,

Unto an other Canto I will overpas.