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His feeble eyne with too much brightness daz'd ; So stared he on her, and stood long while amaz’d.

Softly at last he gan his mother aske,
What mister wight that was, and whence deriv'd,
That in so straunge disguizement there did maske,
And by what accident she there arriv'd ?
But she, as one nigh of her wits depriv’d,
With nought but ghastly lookes him answered ;
Like to a ghost, that lately is reviv'd
From Stygian shores where late it wandered :
So both at her, and each at other wondered.

But the fayre virgin was so meeke and myld,
That she to them vouchsafed to embace
Her goodly port, and to their senses vyld
Her gentle speach applyde, that in short space
She grew familiare in that desert place.
During which time the chorle, through her so kind
And courteise use, conceiv'd affection bace,
And cast to love her in his brutish mind;
No love, but brutish lust, that was so beastly tind.


Oft from the forrest wildings he did bring,
Whose sides empurpled were with smyling red ;
And oft young birds, which he had taught to sing
His maistresse praises sweetly caroled :
Girlonds of flowres sometimes for her faire hed
He fine would dight; sometimes the squirrel wild
He brought to her in bands, as conquered
To be her thrall, his fellow-servant vild :
All which she of him tooke with countenance

meeke and mild.


[Faerie Queene.]

The first was Fansy, like a lovely boy
Of rare aspect and beautie without peare,
Matchable either to that ympe of Troy,
Whom Iove did love, and chose his cup to beare;
Or that same daintie lad, which was so deare
To great Alcides, that, whenas he dyde,
He wailed womanlike with many a teare,
And every wood and every valley wyde
He filld with Hylas name; the nymphes eke

Hylas cryde.

His garment neither was of silke nor say,
But paynted plumes in goodly order dight,
Like as the sunburnt Indians do aray
Their tawney bodies in their proudest plight:
As those same plumes, so seemd he vaine and light
That by his gate might easily appeare ;
For still he far'd as dauncing in delight,
And in his hand a windy fan did beare,
That in the ydle ayre he mov'd still here and


And him beside marcht amorous Desyre,
Who seemd of ryper yeares than th' other swayne,
Yet was that other swayne this elders syre,
And gave him being, commune to them twayne :
His garment was disguysed very vayne.
And his embrodered bonet sat awry :
Twixt both his hands few sparkes he close did


Which still he blew and kindled busily,
That soone they life conceiv'd, and forth in flames

did fly.

Next after him went Doubt, who was y clad
In a discolour'd cote of straunge disguyse,
That at his backe a brode capuccio had,
And sleeves dependaunt Albanese-wyse ;
He lookt askew with his mistrustfull eyes,
And nycely trode, as thornes lay in his way,
Or that the flore to shrinke he did avyse ;
And on a broken reed he still did stay
His feeble steps, which shrunck when hard thereon

he lay.

With him went Daunger, cloth'd in ragged weed Made of beares skin, that him more dreadfull

made ; Yet his owne face was dreadfull, ne did need Straunge horrour to deforme his griesly shade : A net in th’ one hand, and a rusty blade In th' other was; this mischiefe, that mishap ; With th' one his foes he threatned to invade, With th’ other he his friends ment to enwrap : For whom he could not kill he practised to entrap.

Next him was Feare, all arm'd from top to toe,
Yet thought himselfe not safe enough thereby,
But feard each shadow moving to or froe;
And, his owne armes when glittering he did spy
Or clashing heard, he fast away did fly,
As ashes pale of hew, and winged heeld ;
And evermore on Daunger fixt his eye,
'Gainst whom he alwayes bent a brasen shield,
Which his right hand unarmed fearefully did wield.

With him went Hope in rancke, a handsome mayd,
Of chearefull looke and lovely to behold ;
In silken samite she was light arayd,
And her fayre lockes were woven up in gold :
She alway smyld, and in her hand did hold
An holy-water-sprinckle, dipt in deowe,
With which she sprinckled favours manifold
On whom she list, and did great liking sheowe,
Great liking unto many, but true love to feowe.

And after them Dissemblaunce and Suspect
Marcht in one rancke, yet an unequall paire ;
For she was gentle and of milde aspect,
Courteous to all and seeming debonaire,
Goodly adorned and exceeding faire ;
Yet was that all but paynted and purloynd,
And her bright browes were deckt with borrowed

haire; Her deeds were forged, and her words false coynd, And alwaies in her hand two clewes of silke she


But he was fowle, ill favoured, and grim,
Under his eiebrowes looking still askaunce;
And ever, as Dissemblaunce laught on him,
He lowrd on her with daungerous eye-glaunce,
Shewing his nature in his countenaunce ;
His rolling eis did never rest in place,
But walkte each where for feare of hid mischaunce,
Holding a lattis still before his face,
Through which he stil did peep as forward he did


Next him went Grief and Fury, &c. &c.

A SPOUSALL VERSE. CALME was the day, and through the trembling

ayre Sweete-breathing Zephyrus did softly play A gentle spirit, that lightly did delay Hot Titan's beames, which then did glister fayre ; When I, (whom (whose) sullein care, Through discontent of my long fruitlesse stay In princes court, and expectation vayne Of idle hopes, which still doe fly away, Like empty shadowes, did afflict my brayne) Walkt forth to ease my payne Along the shoare of silver streaming Themmes ; Whose rutty bank, the which his river hemmes, Was paynted all with variable flowers, And all the meades adornd with dainty gemmes, Fit to decke maydens bowres, And crowne their paramours Against the brydale-day, which is not long : Sweet Themmes ! runne softly, till I end my song.

There, in a meadow, by the rivers side,
A flock of nymphes I chaunced to espy,
All lovely daughters of the flood thereby,
With goodly greenish locks, all loose untyde,
As each had bene a bryde ;
And each one had a little wicker basket,
Made of fine twigs, entrayled curiously,
In which they gathered flowers to fill their flasket,
And with fine fingers cropt full feateously
The tender stalkes on hye.
Of every sort, which in that meadow grew,
They gathered some ; the violet, pallid blew,

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