Belphebe finds him alost dead.
And reareth out of sownd.
Wonder it is to see, in diverse minds,
How diversly love doth his pageants play,
And shewes his powre in variable kinds:
The baser wit, whose idle thoughts alway
Are wont to cleave unto the lowly clay,
It stirreth up to sensuall desire,
And in lewd slouth to wast his carelesse day;
But in brave sprite it kindles goodly fire,
That to all high desert and honour doth aspire.
Ne suffereth it uncomely idlenesse
In his free thought to build her sluggish nest;
Ne suffereth it thought of ungentlenesse
Ever to creepe into his noble brest;
But to the highest and the worthiest
Lifteth it up that els would lowly fall:
It lettes not fall, it lettes it not to rest;
It lettes not scarse this Prince to breath at all,
But to his first poursuit him forward still doth call.
Who long time wandred through the forest wyde
To finde some issue thence, till that at last
He met a Dwarfe, that seemed terrifyde
With some late perill which he hardly past,
Or other accident, which him aghast;
Of whom he asked, whence he lately came,
And whither now he travelled so fast:
For sore he swat, and, running through that same
Thicke forest, was bescracht, and both his feet nigh lame.
Panting for breath, and almost out of hart,
The Dwarfe him answerd; “Sir, ill mote I stay
To tell the same: I lately did depart
From Faery court, where I have many a day
Served a gentle Lady of great sway
And high accompt through out all Elfin land,
Who lately left the same, and tooke this way.
Her now I seeke; and if ye understand
Which way she fared hath, good Sir, tell out of hand.”
“What mister wight,” (saide he) “and how arayd?”
“Royally clad” (quoth he) “in cloth of gold,
As meetest may beseeme a noble mayd:
Her faire lockes in rich circlet be enrold,
A fayrer wight did never Sunne behold?
And on a Palfrey rydes more white then snow,
Yet she her selfe is whiter manifold.
The surest signe, whereby ye may her know,
Is that she is the fairest wight alive, I trow.”
“Now certes, swaine,” (saide he) “such one, I weene,
Fast flying through this forest from her fo,
A foule ill-favoured foster, I have seene:
Her selfe, well as I might, I reskewd tho,
But could not stay, so fast she did foregoe,
Carried away with wings of speedy feare.”
“Ah, dearest God!” (quoth he) “that is great woe,
And wondrous ruth to all that shall it heare:
But can ye read, Sir, how I may her finde, or where?”
“Perdy, me lever were to weeten that,”
(Said he) “then ransome of the richest knight,
Or all the good that ever yet I gat:
But froward fortune, and too forward Night,
Such happinesse did, maulgre, to me spight,
And fro me reft both life and light attone.
But, Dwarfe, aread what is that Lady bright
That through this forrest wandreth thus alone?
For of her errour straunge I have great ruth and mone.”
“That Lady is,” (quoth he) “where so she bee,
The bountiest virgin and most debonaire
That ever living eye, I weene, did see.
Lives none this day that may with her compare
In stedfast chastitie and vertue rare,
The goodly ornaments of beautie bright;
And is ycleped Florimell the faire,
Faire Florimell belov’d of many a knight,
Yet she loves none but one, that Marinell is hight.
“A Sea-nymphes sonne, that Marinell is hight,
Of my deare Dame is loved dearely well;
In other none, but him, she sets delight,
All her delight is set on Marinell,
But he sets nought at all by Florimell;
For Ladies love his mother long ygoe
Did him, they say, forwarne through sacred spell:
But fame now flies, that of a forreine foe
He is yslaine, which is the ground of all our woe.
“Five dayes there be since he (they say) was slaine,
And foure since Florimell the Court forwent,
And vowed never to returne againe,
Till him alive or dead she did invent.
Therefore, faire Sir, for love of knighthood gent,
And honour of trew Ladies, if ye may
By your good counsell, or bold hardiment,
Or succour her, or me direct the way,
Do one or other good, I you most humbly pray.
“So may ye gaine to you full great renowme
Of all good Ladies through the worlde so wide,
And haply in her hart find highest rowme
Of whom ye seeke to be most magnifide:
At least eternall meede shall you abide.”
To whom the Prince: “Dwarfe, comfort to thee take,
For, till thou tidings learne what her betide,
I here avow thee never to forsake.
Ill weares he armes, that nill them use for Ladies sake.”
So with the Dwarfe he backe retourn’d againe,
To seeke his Lady, where he mote her find;
But by the way he greatly gan complaine
The want of his good Squire late lefte behind,
For whom he wondrous pensive grew in mind,
For doubt of daunger which mote him betide;
For him he loved above all mankinde,
Having him trew and faithfull ever tride,
And bold, as ever Squire that waited by knights side:
Who all this while full hardly was assayd
Of deadly daunger, which to him betid;
For, whiles his Lord pursewd that noble Mayd,
After that foster fowle he fiercely rid
To bene avenged of the shame he did
To that faire Damzell: Him he chaced long
Through the thicke woods, wherein he would have hid
His shamefull head from his avengement strong,
And oft him threatned death for his outrageous wrong.
Nathlesse the villein sped himselfe so well,
Whether through swiftnesse of his speedy beast,
Or knowledge of those woods where he did dwell,
That shortly he from daunger was releast,
And out of sight escaped at the least:
Yet not escaped from the dew reward
Of his bad deedes, which daily he increast,
Ne ceased not, till him oppressed hard
The heavy plague that for such leachours is prepard.
For
