The Faerie Queene

thumb|So dark are earthly things compared to things divine. The Faerie Queene is an incomplete English epic poem by Edmund Spenser. Books I to III were first published in 1590, and then republished, with alterations, together with books IV to VI, in 1596. The Mutability cantos, which appear to be part of a fragmentary Book VII, were first published in 1609. Quotations thumb|The general end of all the book is to fashion a gentleman or noble person in virtuous and gentle discipline. Note on the text: Quotations are presented in both the orthography of the original editions (to preserve Spenser's archaism and the poem's antique flavor) and in modern spelling and punctuation (to make them more readily comprehensible).The modernized text and the occasional explanatory notes are based mainly on Purves' edition (see Bibliography). Quotations in bold are those most widely and frequently quoted. Books I–III (1590) Book I thumb|Fierce wars and faithful loves shall moralize my song. Fierce warres and faithfull loues shall moralize my song. Fierce wars and faithful loves shall moralize my song. Bk. I, Proem, stanza 1 Compare: That not in fancy's maze he wandered long,But stooped to truth, and moralized his song. Alexander Pope, Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot (1735), lines 333–334 thumb|A gentle knight was pricking on the plain. A Gentle Knight was pricking on the plaine. A gentle knight was pricking on the plain. Bk. I, Canto I, stanza 1 Note: pricking=spurring, riding thumb|And on his breast a bloody cross he bore,The dear remembrance of his dying Lord. And on his brest a bloodie Crosse he bore,The deare remembrance of his dying Lord,For whose sweete sake that glorious badge he wore. And on his breast a bloody cross he bore,The dear remembrance of his dying Lord,For whose sweet sake that glorious badge he wore. Bk. I, Canto I, stanza 2 The 2nd edition (1596) has "But" instead of "And": But on his brest a bloudie Crosse he bore,The deare remembrance of his dying Lord. thumb|But of his cheer did seem too solemn sad;Yet nothing did he dread, but ever was ydrad. Right faithfull true he was in deede and word,But of his cheere did seeme too solemne sad;Yet nothing did he dread, but euer was ydrad. Right faithful true he was in deed and word;But of his cheer did seem too solemn sad;Yet nothing did he dread, but ever was ydrad. Bk. I, Canto I, stanza 2 Note: ydrad=dreaded, feared So pure and innocent, as that same lambe,She was in life and euery vertuous lore,And by descent from Royall lynage cameOf ancient Kinges and Queenes, that had of yoreTheir scepters stretcht from East to Westerne shore. So pure and innocent, as that same lamb,She was in life and every virtuous lore;And by descent from royal lineage cameOf ancient kings and queens, that had of yoreTheir sceptres stretched from east to western shore. Bk. I, Canto I, stanza 5; of Una And all within were pathes and alleies wide,With footing worne, and leading inward farr. And all within were paths and alleys wide,With footing worn, and leading inward far. Bk. I, Canto I, stanza 7 thumb|The sailing pine; the cedar, proud and tall;The vine-prop elm; the poplar, never dry;The builder oak, sole king of forests all;The aspen, good for staves; the cypress, funeral. And foorth they passe, with pleasure forward led,Ioying to heare the birdes sweete harmony,Which therein shrouded from the tempest dred,Seemd in their song to scorne the cruell sky.Much can they praise the trees so straight and hy,The sayling Pine, the Cedar proud and tall,The vine-propp Elme, the Poplar neuer dry,The builder Oake, sole king of forrests all,The Aspine good for staues, the Cypresse funerall.The Laurell, meed of mightie ConqueroursAnd Poets sage, the Firre that weepeth still,The Willow worne of forlorne Paramours,The Eugh obedient to the benders will,The Birch for shaftes, the Sallow for the mill,The Mirrhe sweete bleeding in the bitter wound,The warlike Beech, the Ash for nothing ill,The fruitfull Oliue, and the Platane round,The caruer Holme, the Maple seeldom inward sound. And forth they pass, with pleasure forward led,Joying to hear the birds' sweet harmony,Which, therein shrouded from the tempest dread,Seemed in their song to scorn the cruel sky.Much can they praise the trees so straight and high:The sailing pine; the cedar, proud and tall;The vine-prop elm; the poplar, never dry;The builder oak, sole king of forests all;The aspen, good for staves; the cypress, funeral;The laurel, meed of mighty conquerorsAnd poets sage; the fir, that weepeth still;The willow, worn of forlorn paramours;The yew, obedient to the binder's will;The birch, for shafts; the sallow, for the mill;The myrrh, sweet-bleeding in the bitter wound;The warlike beech; the ash, for nothing ill;The fruitful olive, and the plantain round;The carver holm; the maple, seldom inward sound. Bk. I, Canto I, stanzas 8–9; the catalogue of trees in the Wandering Wood Note: The sailing pine—so called from being used for the masts of ships (cf. Virgil, Georgics [29 BCE], 2.443: navigiis pinus [Loeb trans.: "pines for ships"]); meed=reward; forlorn paramours=abandoned lovers; The yew, obedient to the binder's will—when made into bows; shafts=arrows; The sallow, for the mill—for the sails of windmills; The myrrh, sweet, bleeding in the bitter wound—the incision made in the bark of the myrrh tree to extract its aromatic resin; The warlike beech—so called from being used for the shafts of spears; plantain=plane-tree; The carver holm—the holly, suitable for carving Compare: The bilder ook, and eek the hardy asshe;The piler elm, the cofre unto careyne;The boxtree piper; holm to whippes lasshe;The sayling firr; the cipres, deth to pleyne;The sheter ew, the asp for shaftes pleyne;The olyve of pees, and eek the drunken vyne,The victor palm, the laurer to devyne. The builder oak, and eke the hardy ash;The pillar elm, the coffer unto carrain;The box-tree piper; holm to whip's lash;The sailing fir; the cypress, death to plain;The shooter yew; the asp for shafts plain;The olive of peace, and eke the drunken vine;The victor palm; the laurel, too, divine. Geoffrey Chaucer, Parlement of Foules (c. 1382), lines 176–182 Oft fire is without smoke,And perill without show. Oft fire is without smoke,And peril without show. Bk. I, Canto I, stanza 12 thumb|Virtue gives herself light through darkness for to wade. Vertue giues her selfe light, through darkenesse for to wade. "Virtue gives herself light through darkness for to wade." Bk. I, Canto I, stanza 12; spoken by the Red Cross Knight His glistring armor madeA litle glooming light, much like a shade. His glistening armour madeA little glooming light, much like a shade. Bk. I, Canto I, stanza 14 Compare: Where glowing embers through the roomTeach light to counterfeit a gloom. John Milton, Il Penseroso (c. 1631), line 79 God helpe the man so wrapt in Errours endlesse traine. God help the man so wrapt in Error's endless train! Bk. I, Canto I, stanza 18 Note: train=tail, deceit (according to Upton's notes to the Faerie Queene, 1758, Vol. II, p. 343) thumb|Add faith unto your force. His Lady sad to see his sore constraint,Cride out, Now now Sir knight, shew what ye beeAdd faith vnto your force, and be not faint:Strangle her, els she sure will strangle thee. His lady, sad to see his sore constraint,Cried out, "Now, now, Sir Knight, show what ye be;Add faith unto your force, and be not faint;Strangle her, else she sure will strangle thee." Bk. I, Canto I, stanza 19; the lady Una (whose name means "One" in Latin, and who represents Truth) gives this advice to the Red Cross Knight (Saint George, who represents Holiness), as he faces the monster Error For what so strong,But wanting rest will also want of might?The Sunne that measures heauen all day long,At night doth baite his steedes the Ocean waues emong. "For what so strong,But, wanting rest, will also want of might?The sun, that measures heaven all day long,At night doth bait his steeds the ocean waves among." Bk. I, Canto I, stanza 32; spoken by Una Note: wanting=lacking, needing; bait=feed, refresh thumb|The noblest mind the best contentment has. The noblest mind the best contentment has. Bk. I, Canto I, stanza 35 thumb|A bold bad man. A bold bad man, that dar'd to call by nameGreat Gorgon, prince of darknes and dead night. A bold bad man, that dared to call by nameGreat Gorgon, prince of darkness and dead night. Bk. I, Canto I, stanza 37 Compare: This bold bad man. Shakespeare, Henry VIII (c. 1613), Act II, scene 2 The Northerne wagoner had setHis seuenfold teme behind the stedfast starre. The northern wagoner had setHis sevenfold team behind the steadfast star. Bk. I, Canto II, stanza 1 Will was his guide, and griefe led him astray. Will was his guide, and grief led him astray. Bk. I, Canto II, stanza 12; of the Red Cross Knight Better new friend then an old foe. Better new friend than an old foe. Bk. I, Canto II, stanza 27 Nought is there vnder heau'ns wide hollownesse,That moues more deare compassion of mind,Then beautie brought t'vnworthie wretchednesseThrough enuies snares or fortunes freakes vnkind. Nought is there under heaven's wide hollownessThat moves more dear compassion of mindThan beauty brought to unworthy wretchednessThrough envy's snares or fortune's freaks unkind. Bk. I, Canto III, stanza 1 thumb|Her angel's face,As the great eye of heaven, shined bright,And made a sunshine in the shady place. Her angels faceAs the great eye of heauen shyned bright,And made a sunshine in the shady place;Did neuer mortall eye behold such heauenly grace. Her angel's face,As the great eye of heaven, shined bright,And made a sunshine in the shady place;Did never mortal eye behold such heavenly grace. Bk. I, Canto III, stanza 4; description of Una thumb|alt=Una and the lion from Spenser's Faerie Queene|O how can beauty master the most strong,And simple truth subdue avenging wrong! O how can beautie maister the most strong,And simple truth subdue auenging wrong? O how can beauty master the most strong,And simple truth subdue avenging wrong! Bk. I, Canto III, stanza 6 thumb|One loving hourFor many years of sorrow can dispense;A dram of sweet is worth a pound of sour. One louing howreFor many yeares of sorrow can dispence:A dram of sweete is worth a pound of sowre. One loving hourFor many years of sorrow can dispense;A dram of sweet is worth a pound of sour. Bk. I, Canto III, stanza 30 Note: dispense=compensate, make amends thumb|And all the hinder parts, that few could spy,Were ruinous and old, but painted cunningly. A stately Pallace built of squared bricke,Which cunningly was without morter laid,Whose wals were high, but nothing strong, nor thickAnd golden foile all ouer them displaid,That purest skye with brightnesse they dismaid. A stately palace built of squared brick,Which cunningly was without mortar laid,Whose walls were high, but nothing strong, nor thick,And golden foil all over them displayed,That purest sky with brightness they dismayed. Bk. I, Canto IV, stanza 4; description of Lucifera's (i.e., Satan's) palace—the house of Pride Note: dismayed=overpowered And all the hinder partes, that few could spie,Were ruinous and old, but painted cunningly. And all the hinder parts, that few could spy,Were ruinous and old, but painted cunningly. Bk. I, Canto IV, stanza 5; the house of Pride Note: hinder=back, rear Idlenesse the nourse of sin. Idleness, the nurse of Sin. Bk. I, Canto IV, stanza 18 From worldly cares himselfe he did esloyne,And greatly shunned manly exercise,From euerie worke he chalenged essoyne,For contemplation sake: yet otherwise,His life he led in lawlesse riotise;By which he grew to grieuous malady;For in his lustlesse limbs through euill guiseA shaking feuer raignd continually:Such one was Idlenesse. From worldly cares himself he did esloin,And greatly shunned manly exercise;For every work he challenged essoin,For contemplation sake; yet otherwiseHis life he led in lawless riotise,By which he grew to grievous malady:For in his lustless limbs through evil guiseA shaking fever reigned continually:Such one was Idleness. Bk. I, Canto IV, stanza 20 Note: esloin=withdraw; challenged essoin=claimed exemption; riotise=riot; malady=sickness; lustless=listless, feeble; guise=behavior thumb|And by his side rode loathsome Gluttony,Deformed creature, on a filthy swine. And by his side rode loathsome Gluttony,Deformed creature, on a filthie swyne,His belly was vpblowne with luxury;And eke with fatnesse swollen were his eyne. And by his side rode loathsome Gluttony,Deformed creature, on a filthy swine;His belly was up-blown with luxury;And eke with fatness swollen were his eyne. Bk. I, Canto IV, stanza 21 Note: eyne=eyes thumb|Whose plenty made him poor. And greedy Auarice by him did ride,Vppon a Camell loaden all with gold;Two iron coffets hong on either side,With precious metall full, as they might hold,And in his lap an heap of coine he told;For of his wicked pelpe his God he made,And vnto hell him selfe for money sold;Accursed vsury was all his trade,And right and wrong ylike in equall ballaunce waide.His life was nigh vnto deaths dore yplaste,And thred-bare cote, and cobled shoes hee ware,Ne scarse good morsell all his life did taste,But both from backe and belly still did spare,To fill his bags, and richesse to compare;Yet childe ne kinsman liuing had he noneTo leaue them to; but thorough daily careTo get, and nightly feare to lose his owne,He led a wretched life vnto him selfe vnknowne.Most wretched wight, whom nothing might suffise,Whose greedy lust did lacke in greatest store,Whose need had end, but no end couetise,Whose welth was want, whose plēty made him pore,Who had enough, yett wished euer more. And greedy Avarice by him did rideUpon a camel loaden all with gold;Two iron coffers hung on either side,With precious metal full as they might hold;And in his lap a heap of coin he told;For of his wicked pelf his god he made,And unto hell himself for money sold;Accursed usury was all his trade;And right and wrong alike in equal balance weighed.His life was nigh unto death's door y-placed,And thread-bare coat and cobbled shoes he ware,Nor scarce good morsel all his life did taste;But both from back and belly still did spare,To fill his bags, and riches to compare;Yet child nor kinsman living had he noneTo leave them to; but thorough daily careTo get, and nightly fear to lose his own,He led a wretched life unto himself unknown.Most wretched wight, whom nothing might suffice,Whose greedy lust did lack in greatest store,Whose need had end, but no end covetise,Whose wealth was want, whose plenty made him poor,Who had enough, yet wished ever more. Bk. I, Canto IV, stanzas 27–29 Note: told=counted; wicked pelf=ill-gotten wealth, filthy lucre; compare: procure (one of the meanings of the Latin comparare), obtain; wight=creature; covetise=covetousness He hated all good workes and vertuous deeds,And him no lesse, that any like did vse,And who with gratious bread the hungry feeds,His almes for want of faith he doth accuse;So euery good to bad he doth abuse:And eke the verse of famous Poets wittHe does backebite, and spightfull poison spuesFrom leprous mouth on all, that euer writt:Such one vile Enuy was, that first in row did sitt. He hated all good works and virtuous deeds,And him no less, that any like did use,And who with gracious bread the hungry feeds,His alms for want of faith he doth accuse;So every good to bad he doth abuse;And eke the verse of famous poets' witHe does backbite, and spiteful poison spewsFrom leprous mouth on all that ever writ:Such one vile Envy was, that first in row did sit. Bk. I, Canto IV, stanza 32 Note: row=order thumb|Full many mischiefs follow cruel wrath:Abhorred bloodshed and tumultuous strife,Unmanly murder and unthrifty scath. thumb|Fretting grief, the enemy of life. Full many mischiefes follow cruell Wrath;Abhorred bloodshed, and tumultuous strife,Vn manly murder, and vnthrifty scath,Bitter despight, with rancours rusty knife,And fretting griefe the enemy of life;All these, and many euils moe haunt ire,The swelling Splene, and Frenzy raging rife,The shaking Palsey, and Saint Fraunces fire:Such one was Wrath, the last of this vngodly tire. Full many mischiefs follow cruel Wrath;Abhorred Bloodshed and tumultuous Strife,Unmanly Murder and unthrifty Scath,Bitter Despite, with Rancour's rusty knife,And fretting Grief, the enemy of life;All these and many evils more haunt Ire,The swelling Spleen and Frenzy raging rife,The shaking Palsy and Saint Francis' fire:Such one was Wrath, the last of this ungodly tire. Bk. I, Canto IV, stanza 35 Note: scath=harm, mischief; Saint Francis' fire=Saint Anthony's fire (according to Upton's glossary), erysipelas; tire=row, procession (referring to the pageant of the Seven Deadly Sins) thumb|The noble heart that harbours virtuous thought,And is with child of glorious-great intent,Can never rest until it forth have broughtThe eternal brood of glory excellent. The noble hart, that harbours vertuous thought,And is with childe of glorious great intent,Can neuer rest, vntill it forth haue broughtTh'eternall brood of glorie excellent. The noble heart, that harbours virtuous thought,And is with child of glorious, great intent,Can never rest until it forth have broughtThe eternal brood of glory excellent. Bk. I, Canto V, stanza 1 thumb|At last, the golden oriental gateOf greatest heaven 'gan to open fair,And Phoebus, fresh as bridegroom to his mate,Came dancing forth, shaking his dewy hair,And hurled his glistering beams through gloomy air. At last the golden Orientall gateOf greatest heauen gan to open fayre,And Phoebus fresh, as brydegrome to his mate,Came dauncing forth, shaking his deawie hayre:,And hurls his glistring beams through gloomy ayre. At last the golden oriental gateOf greatest heaven 'gan to open fair,And Phoebus, fresh as bridegroom to his mate,Came dancing forth, shaking his dewy hair,And hurled his glistering beams through gloomy air. Bk. I, Canto V, stanza 2 Compare: In them hath He set a tabernacle for the sun, which cometh forth as a bridegroom out of his chamber, and rejoiceth as a giant to run his course. Psalm 19:5 (Coverdale's translation of 1535) See how the morning opes her golden gates,And takes her farewell of the glorious sun!How well resembles it the prime of youth,Trimmed like a younker prancing to his love! Shakespeare, Henry VI, Part 3 (c. 1591) , Act II, scene 2 thumb|A cruel crafty crocodile,Which in false grief hiding his harmful guile,Doth weep full sore, and sheddeth tender tears. A cruell craftie Crocodile,Which in false griefe hyding his harmefull guile,Doth weepe full sore, and sheddeth tender teares. A cruel crafty crocodile,Which in false grief hiding his harmful guile,Doth weep full sore, and sheddeth tender tears. Bk. I, Canto V, stanza 18 Where griesly Night, with visage deadly sad,That Phoebus chearefull face durst neuer vew,And in a foule blacke pitchy mantle clad,She findes forth comming from her darksome mew,Where she all day did hide her hated hew.Before the dore her yron charet stood,Already harnessed for iourney new;And coleblacke steedes yborne of hellish brood,That on their rusty bits did champ, as they were wood. Where grisly Night, with visage deadly sad,That Phoebus' cheerful face dares never view,And in a foul black pitchy mantle clad,She finds forth coming from her darksome mew,Where she all day did hide her hated hue:Before the door her iron chariot stood,Already harnessed for journey new;And coal-black steeds yborn of hellish brood,That on their rusty bits did champ, as they were wood. Bk. I, Canto V, stanza 20 thumb|Who can turn the stream of destiny? But who can turne the streame of destinee,Or breake the chayne of strong necessitee. But who can turn the stream of destiny,Or break the chain of strong necessity? Bk. I, Canto V, stanza 25 That cruell word her tender hart so thrild,That suddein cold did ronne through euery vaine,And stony horrour all her sences fildWith dying fitt, that downe she fell for paine. That cruel word her tender heart so thrilledThat sudden cold did run through every vein,And stony horror all her senses filled,With dying fit, that down she fell for pain. Bk. I, Canto VI, stanza 37 Therewith they gan, both furious and fell,To thunder blowes, and fiersly to assaileEach other, bent his enimy to quell,That with their force they perst both plate & maile,And made wide furrowes in their fleshes fraile,That it would pitty any liuing eie.Large floods of blood adowne their sides did raile;But floods of blood could not them satisfie:Both hongred after death: both chose to win, or die. Therewith they 'gan, both furious and fell,To thunder blows, and fiercely to assailEach other, bent his enemy to quell,That with their force they pierced both plate and mail,And made wide furrows in their fleshes frail,That it would pity any living eye.Large floods of blood adown their sides did rail;But floods of blood could not them satisfy:Both hungered after death; both chose to win, or die. Bk. I, Canto VI, stanza 43 thumb|What man so wise, what earthly wit so ware,As to descry the crafty cunning trainBy which Deceit doth mask in visor fair,And cast her colours, dyed deep in grain,To seem like Truth, whose shape she well can feign? What man so wise, what earthly witt so ware,As to discry the crafty cunning traine,By which deceipt doth maske in visour faire,And cast her coulours died deepe in graine,To seeme like truth, whose shape she well can faine,And fitting gestures to her purpose frame;The guiltlesse man with guile to entertaine? What man so wise, what earthly wit so ware,As to descry the crafty cunning trainBy which Deceit doth mask in visor fair,And cast her colours, dyed deep in grain,To seem like Truth, whose shape she well can feign,And fitting gestures to her purpose frame,The guiltless man with guile to entertain? Bk. I, Canto VII, stanza 1 Note: ware=cautious; train=snare; cast=contrive, arrange Who hath endur'd the whole, can beare ech part. Who hath endured the whole, can bear each part. Bk. I, Canto VII, stanza 25 thumb|What world's delight or joy of living speechCan heart so plunged in sea of sorrows deepAnd heaped with so huge misfortunes reach? What worlds delight, or ioy of liuing speachCan hart, so plungd in sea of sorrowes deep,And heaped with so huge misfortunes, reach?The carefull cold beginneth for to creep,And in my heart his yron arrow steep,Soone as I thinke vpon my bitter bale. "What world's delight, or joy of living speech,Can heart, so plunged in sea of sorrows deep,And heaped with so huge misfortunes, reach?The careful cold beginneth for to creep,And in my heart his iron arrow steep,Soon as I think upon my bitter bale." Bk. I, Canto VII, stanza 39; Una sharing her troubles with Prince Arthur let me you intrete,For to vnfold the anguish of your hart:Mishaps are maistred by aduice discrete,And counsell mitigates the greatest smart. "Let me you entreat,For to unfold the anguish of your heart:Mishaps are mastered by advice discrete,And counsel mitigates the greatest smart." Bk. I, Canto VII, stanza 40; Arthur comforting Una O but (qd. she) great griefe will not be tould,And can more easily be thought, then said. "O! but," quoth she, "great grief will not be told,And can more easily be thought than said." Bk. I, Canto VII, stanza 41 Note: quoth=said thumb|Ay me, how many perils do enfoldThe righteous man, to make him daily fall! Ay me, how many perils doe enfoldThe righteous man, to make him daily fall,Were not that heauenly grace doth him vphold,And stedfast truth acquite him out of all. Ay me, how many perils do enfoldThe righteous man, to make him daily fall,Were not that heavenly grace doth him uphold,And steadfast Truth acquit him out of all! Bk. I, Canto VIII, stanza 1 Note: acquit=rescue, set free As when in Cymbrian plaineAn heard of Bulles, whom kindly rage doth sting,Doe for the milky mothers want complaine,And fill the fieldes with troublous bellowing. As when in Cimbrian plainA herd of bulls, whom kindly rage doth sting,Do for the milky mothers' want complain,And fill the fields with troublous bellowing. Bk. I, Canto VIII, stanza 11 Note: kindly=according to kind (or nature), natural At last with creeping crooked pace forth cameAn old old man, with beard as white as snow,That on a staffe his feeble steps did frame,And guyde his wearie gate both too and fro;For his eye sight him fayled long ygo,And on his arme a bounch of keyes he bore,The which vnused rust did ouergrow:Those were the keyes of euery inner dore,But he could not them vse, but kept them still in store.But very vncouth sight was to behold,How he did fashion his vntoward pace,For as he forward mooud his footing old,So backward still was turnd his wrincled face,Vnlike to men, who euer as they trace,Both feet and face one way are wont to lead.This was the auncient keeper of that place,And foster father of the Gyaunt dead;His name Ignaro did his nature right aread. With creeping crooked pace forth cameAn old, old man, with beard as white as snow,That on a staff his feeble steps did frame,And guide his weary gait both to and fro,For his eyesight him failed long ago;And on his arm a bunch of keys he bore,The which, unused, rust did overgrow:Those were the keys of every inner door,But he could not them use, but kept them still in store.But very uncouth sight was to beholdHow he did fashion his untoward pace:For as he forward moved his footing old,So backward still was turned his wrinkled face,Unlike to men, who ever, as they trace,Both feet and face one way are wont to lead.This was the ancient keeper of that place,And foster father of the giant dead;His name Ignaro did his nature right aread. Bk. I, Canto VIII, stanzas 30–31 Entire affection hateth nicer hands. Bk. I, Canto VIII, stanza 40 Good growes of euils priefe.The chearelesse man, whom sorow did dismay,Had no delight to treaten of his griefe;His long endured famine needed more reliefe. "Good grows of evil's prefe."The cheerless man, whom sorrow did dismay,Had no delight to treaten of his grief;His long-endured famine needed more relief. Bk. I, Canto VIII, stanza 43 Note: prefe=proof, experience Faire Lady, then said that victorious knight,The things, that grieuous were to doe, or beare,Them to renew, I wote, breeds no delight;Best musicke breeds delight in loathing eare:But th'only good, that growes of passed feare,Is to be wise, and ware of like agein. "Fair Lady," then said that victorious knight,"The things that grievous were to do or bear,Them to renew, I wot, breeds no delight;Best music breeds dislike in loathing ear:But the only good that grows of passed fearIs to be wise, and ware of like again." Bk. I, Canto VIII, stanza 44 When I awoke, and found her place deuoyd,And nought but pressed gras where she had lyen,I sorrowed all so much, as earst I ioyd,And washed all her place with watry eyen. When I awoke and found her place devoid,And naught but pressed grass where she had lain,I sorrowed all so much as erst I joyed,And washed all her place with watery eyne. Bk. I, Canto IX, stanza 15 True Loues are oftẽ sown, but seldom grow on grownd. True loves are often sown, but seldom grow on ground. Bk. I, Canto IX, stanza 16 Still as he fledd, his eye was backward cast,As if his feare still followed him behynd;Als flew his steed, as he his bandes had brast,And with his winged heeles did tread the wynd,As he had beene a fole of Pegasus his kynd. Still, as he fled, his eye was backward cast,As if his fear still followed him behind;Also flew his steed, as he his bands had burst,And with his winged heels did tread the wind,As he had been a foal of Pegasus his kind. Bk. I, Canto IX, stanza 21 thumb|That darksome cave they enter, where they findThat cursed man, low sitting on the ground,Musing full sadly in his sullen mind. That darkesome caue they enter, where they findThat cursed man, low sitting on the ground,Musing full sadly in his sullein mind. That darksome cave they enter, where they findThat cursed man, low sitting on the ground,Musing full sadly in his sullen mind. Bk. I, Canto IX, stanza 35 His raw-bone cheekes through penurie and pine,Were shronke into his iawes, as he did neuer dyne. His raw-bone cheeks, through penury and pine,Were shrunk into his jaws, as he did never dine. Bk. I, Canto IX, stanza 35 thumb|Sleep after toil, port after stormy seas,Ease after war, death after life, does greatly please. Is not short payne well borne, that bringes long ease,And layes the soule to sleepe in quiet graue?Sleepe after toyle, port after stormie seas,Ease after warre, death after life does greatly please. "Is not short pain well borne that brings long easeAnd lays the soul to sleep in quiet grave?Sleep after toil, port after stormy seas,Ease after war, death after life, does greatly please." Bk. I, Canto IX, stanza 40; Despair's argument for suicide The terme of life limited,Ne may a man prolong, nor shorten it;The souldier may not moue from watchfull sted,Nor leaue his stand, vntill his Captaine bed.Who life did limit by almightie doome,(Quoth he) knowes best the termes established;And he, that points the Centonell his roome,Doth license him depart at sound of morning droome. "The term of life is limited,Nor may a man prolong nor shorten it:The soldier may not move from watchful stead,Nor leave his stand, until his captain bid.""Who life did limit by almighty doom,"Quoth he, "knows best the terms established;And he, that points the sentinel his room,Doth license him depart at sound of morning drum." Bk. I, Canto IX, stanza 41; spoken by the Red Cross Knight thumb|Death is the end of woes: die soon, O fairy's son. Death is the end of woes: die soone, O faries sonne. "Death is the end of woes: die soon, O fairy's son." Bk. I, Canto IX, stanza 47; Despair tempting the Red Cross Knight to commit suicide thumb|His hand did quakeAnd tremble like a leaf of aspen green,And troubled blood through his pale face was seen,As it a running messenger had been. His hand did quake,And tremble like a leafe of Aspin greene,And troubled blood through his pale face was seeneTo come, and goe with tidings from the heart,As it a ronning messenger had beene. His hand did quakeAnd tremble like a leaf of aspen green,And troubled blood through his pale face was seenTo come and go, with tidings from the heart,As it a running messenger had been. Bk. I, Canto IX, stanza 51 thumb|Where justice grows, there grows eke greater grace. Where iustice growes, there grows eke greter grace,The which doth quench the brond of hellish smart. Where justice grows, there grows eke greater grace,The which doth quench the brand of hellish smart. Bk. I, Canto IX, stanza 53; spoken by Una Each goodly thing is hardest to begin. Bk. I, Canto X, stanza 6 thumb|O happy earth,Whereon thy innocent feet do ever tread! O happy earth,Whereon thy innocent feet do ever tread! Bk. I, Canto X, stanza 9 thumb|So few there beThat choose the narrow path, or seek the right!All keep the broad highway, and take delightWith many rather for to go astray,And be partakers of their evil plight,Than with a few to walk the rightest way. So few there bee,That chose the narrow path, or seeke the right:All keepe the broad high way, and take delightWith many rather for to goe astray,And be partakers of their euill plight,Then with a few to walke the rightest way. So few there beThat choose the narrow path, or seek the right!All keep the broad highway, and take delightWith many rather for to go astray,And be partakers of their evil plight,Than with a few to walk the rightest way. Bk. I, Canto X, stanza 10; the Red Cross Knight at the House of Holiness But wise Speranza gaue him comfort sweet,And taught him how to take assured holdVpon her siluer anchor, as was meet;Els had his sinnes so great, and manifoldMade him forget all, that Fidelia told. But wise Speranza gave him comfort sweet,And taught him how to take assured holdUpon her silver anchor, as was meet;Else had his sins so great and manifoldMade him forget all that Fidelia told. Bk. I, Canto X, stanza 22 Note: Speranza=Hope; Fidelia=Faith In ashes and sackcloth he did arrayHis daintie corse, proud humors to abate,And dieted with fasting euery day,The swelling of his woundes to mitigate,And made him pray both earely and eke late:And euer as superfluous flesh did rottAmendment readie still at hand did wayt,To pluck it out with pincers fyrie whott,That soone in him was lefte no one corrupted iott. In ashes and sackcloth he did arrayHis dainty corse, proud humours to abate,And dieted with fasting every day,The swelling of his wounds to mitigate,And made him pray both early and eke late:And ever as superfluous flesh did rot,Amendment ready still at hand did wait,To pluck it out with pincers fiery hot,That soon in him was left no one corrupted jot. Bk. I, Canto X, stanza 26 thumb|Saint George shall called beSaint George of merry England, the sign of victory. Saint George shalt called bee,Saint George of mery England, the signe of victoree. "Saint George shalt called beSaint George of merry England, the sign of victory." Bk. I, Canto X, stanza 61 Dazed were his eyne,Through passing brightnes, which did quite cõfoundHis feeble sence, and too exceeding shyne.So darke are earthly thinges compard to things diuine. Dazed were his eyneThrough passing brightness, which did quite confoundHis feeble sense, and too exceeding shine.So dark are earthly things compared to things divine! Bk. I, Canto X, stanza 67 Now gan the golden Phoebus for to steepeHis fierie face in billowes of the west;And his faint steedes watred in Ocean deepe,Whiles from their iournall labours they did rest. Now 'gan the golden Phoebus for to steepHis fiery face in billows of the west,And his faint steeds watered in ocean deep,Whiles from their journal labours they did rest. Bk. I, Canto XI, stanza 31 By this the drouping day-light gan to fade,And yied his rowme to sad succeeding night,Who with her sable mantle gan to shadeThe face of earth, and wayes of liuing wight,And high her burning torch set vp in heauen bright. By this the drooping daylight 'gan to fadeAnd yield his room to sad succeeding night,Who with her sable mantle 'gan to shadeThe face of earth and ways of living wight,And high her burning torch set up in heaven bright. Bk. I, Canto XI, stanza 49 Then on her head they sett agirlond greene,And crowned her twixt earnest and twixt game;Who in her self-resemblance well beseene,Did seeme such, as she was, a goodly maiden Queene. Then on her head they set a garland green,And crowned her 'twixt earnest and 'twixt game:Who, in her self-resemblance well beseen,Did seem, such as she was, a goodly Maiden Queen. Bk. I, Canto XII, stanza 8; of Una Now strike your sailes yee iolly Mariners,For we be come vnto a quiet rode,Where we must land some of our passengers,And light this weary vessell of her lode. Now strike your sails, ye jolly mariners,For we be come unto a quiet road,Where we must land some of our passengers,And light this weary vessel of her load. Bk. I, Canto XII, stanza 42 Book II thumb|Why then should witless man so much misweenThat nothing is but that which he hath seen? Why then should witlesse man so much misweeneThat nothing is but that which he hath seene? Why then should witless man so much misweenThat nothing is but that which he hath seen? Bk. II, Proem, stanza 3 Note: misween=misjudge But now so wise and wary was the knightBy tryall of his former harmes and cares,That he descryde, and shonned still his slight:The fish that once was caught, new bait wil hardly byte. But now so wise and wary was the knight,By trial of his former harms and cares,That he descried, and shunned still, his slight:The fish that once was caught, new bait will hardly bite. Bk. II, Canto I, stanza 4 Which when she heard, as in despightfull wise,She wilfully her sorrow did augment,And offred hope of comfort did despise:Her golden lockes most cruelly she rent,And scratcht her face with ghastly dreriment,Ne would she speake, nesee, ne yet be seene,But hid her visage, and her head downe bent,Either for grieuous shame, or for great teene,As if her hart with sorow had transfixed beene. Which when she heard, as in despightful wise,She wilfully her sorrow did augment,And offered hope of comfort did despise;Her golden locks most cruelly she rent,And scratched her face with ghastly dreriment;Nor would she speak, nor see, nor yet be seen,But hid her visage and her head down bent,Either for grievous shame, or for great teen,As if her heart with sorrow had transfixed been. Bk. II, Canto I, stanza 15 Come then, come soone, come sweetest death to me,And take away this long lent loathed light:Sharpe be thy wounds, but sweete the medicines be,That long captiued soules from weary thraldome free. Come then, come soon; come, sweetest death, to me,And take away this long lent loathed light:Sharp be thy wounds, but sweet the medicines beThat long captived souls from weary thraldom free. Bk. II, Canto I, stanza 36 Behold the ymage of mortalitie,And feeble nature cloth'd with fleshly tyreWhen raging passion with fierce tyrannyRobs reason of her dew regalitie,And makes it seruaunt to her basest part,The strong it weakens with infirmitie:And with bold furie armes the weakest hart;The strong through pleasure soonest falles, the weake through smart. Behold the image of mortality,And feeble nature clothed with fleshly tire,When raging passion with fierce tyrannyRobs reason of her due regality,And makes it servant to her basest part:The strong it weakens with infirmity,And with bold fury arms the weakest heart;The strong through pleasure soonest falls, the weak through smart. Bk. II, Canto I, stanza 57 thumb|Death is an equal doomTo good and bad, the common inn of rest. Death is an equall doomeTo good and bad, the commen In of rest. "Death is an equal doomTo good and bad, the common inn of rest." Bk. II, Canto I, stanza 59 Compare: Like pilgrims, to the appointed place we tend;The world's an inn, and death the journey's end. John Dryden, Fables, Ancient and Modern (1700), "Palamon and Arcite" (a translation of "The Knight's Tale" from Chaucer's Canterbury Tales), 3.887 Such is the state of men! Bk. II, Canto II, stanza 2 So double was his paines, so double be his praise. So double was his pains, so double be his praise. Bk. II, Canto II, stanza 25 Now gan his hart all swell in iollity,And of him selfe great hope and help conceiu'd,That puffed vp with smoke of vanity,And with selfe-loued personage deceiu'd,He gan to hope, of men to be receiu'dFor such, as he him thought, or faine would bee:But for in court gay portaunce he perceiu'd,And gallant shew to be in greatest gree,Eftsoones to court he cast t'aduaunce his first degree. Now 'gan his heart all swell in jollity,And of himself great hope and help conceived,That puffed up with smoke of vanity,And with self-loved personage deceived,He 'gan to hope of men to be receivedFor such as he him thought, or fain would be.But for in court gay portaunce he perceivedAnd gallant show to be in greatest gree,Eftsoons to court he cast to advance his first degree. Bk. II, Canto III, stanza 5 Vaineglorious man, when fluttring wind does blowIn his light winges, is lifted vp to skye:The scorne of knighthood and trew cheualrye,To thinke without desert of gentle deed,And noble worth to be aduaunced hye:Such prayse is shame; but honour vertues meedDoth beare the fayrest flowre in honourable seed. Vainglorious man, when fluttering wind does blowIn his light wings, is lifted up to sky;The scorn of knighthood and true chivalry,To think, without desert of gentle deedAnd noble worth, to be advanced high:Such praise is shame; but honour, virtue's meed,Doth bear the fairest flower in honourable seed. Bk. II, Canto III, stanza 10 thumb|Her face so fair, as flesh it seemed not,But heavenly portrait of bright angel's hue,Clear as the sky, withouten blame or blot,Through goodly mixture of complexion's dew. Her face so faire as flesh it seemed not,But heuenly pourtraict of bright Angels hew,Cleare as the skye, withouten blame or blot,Through goodly mixture of complexions dew. Her face so fair, as flesh it seemed not,But heavenly portrait of bright angel's hue,Clear as the sky, withouten blame or blot,Through goodly mixture of complexion's dew. Bk. II, Canto III, stanza 22; of Belphoebe, a representation of Queen Elizabeth (as Spenser explains in his letter to Raleigh) thumb|In her fair eyes two living lamps did flame,Kindled above, at the heavenly Maker's light,And darted fiery beams out of the same,So passing piersant, and so wondrous bright,That quite bereaved the rash beholder's sight. In her faire eyes two liuing lamps did flame,Kindled aboue at th'heuenly makers light,And darted fyrie beames out of the same,So passing persant, and so wondrous bright,That quite bereau'd the rash beholders sight. In her fair eyes two living lamps did flame,Kindled above, at the heavenly Maker's light,And darted fiery beams out of the same,So passing piersant, and so wondrous bright,That quite bereaved the rash beholder's sight. Bk. II, Canto III, stanza 23; of Belphoebe And when she spake,Sweete wordes, like dropping honny she did shed,And twixt the perles and rubins softly brakeA siluer sound, that heauenly musicke seemd to make. And when she spake,Sweet words, like dropping honey, she did shed;And 'twixt the pearls and rubies softly brakeA silver sound, that heavenly music seemed to make. Bk. II, Canto III, stanza 24; of Belphoebe Vpon her eyelids many Graces sate,Vnder the shadow of her euen browes. Upon her eyelids many graces sate,Under the shadows of her even brows. Bk. II, Canto III, stanza 25; of Belphoebe Who so in pompe of prowd estate (qd. she)Does swim, and bathes him selfe in courtly blis,Does waste his dayes in darke obscuritee,And in obliuion euer buried is. "Whoso in pomp of proud estate," quoth she,"Does swim, and bathes himself in courtly bliss,Does waste his days in dark obscurity,And in oblivion ever buried is." Bk. II, Canto III, stanza 40 Loue that two harts makes one, makes eke one will. Love, that two hearts makes one, makes eke one will. Bk. II, Canto IV, stanza 19 thumb|Matter of mirth enough, though there were none,She could devise, and thousand ways inventTo feed her foolish humour and vain jolliment. And therein sate a Ladie fresh and faire,Making sweet solace to her selfe alone;Sometimes she sung, as loud as larke in aire,Sometimes she laught, as nigh her breth was gone,Yet was there not with her else any one,That might to her moue cause of meriment:Matter of merth enough, though there were noneShe could deuise, and thousand waies inuent,To feede her foolish humour, and vaine iolliment. And therein sat a lady fresh and fair,Making sweet solace to herself alone:Sometimes she sung as loud as lark in air,Sometimes she laughed that nigh her breath was gone;Yet was there not with her else any oneThat might to her move cause of merriment:Matter of mirth enough, though there were none,She could devise, and thousand ways inventTo feed her foolish humour and vain jolliment. Bk. II, Canto VI, stanza 3 (2nd ed., 1596); of Phaedria ("Immodest Mirth") thumb|No dainty flower or herb that grows on ground,No arboret with painted blossoms dressedAnd smelling sweet, but there it might be foundTo bud out fair, and her sweet smells throw all around. No dainty flowre or herbe, that growes on grownd,No arborett with painted blossomes drest,And smelling sweete, but there it might be fowndTo bud out faire, & throwe her sweete smels al arownd. No dainty flower or herb that grows on ground,No arboret with painted blossoms dressedAnd smelling sweet, but there it might be foundTo bud out fair, and her sweet smells throw all around. Bk. II, Canto VI, stanza 12 Yet nether spinnes nor cards, ne cares nor fretts,But to her mother Nature all her care she letts. Yet neither spins, nor cards, nor cares, nor frets,But to her mother, nature, all her cares she lets. Bk. II, Canto VI, stanza 16 Compare: Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin. Matthew 6:28 KJV The fields did laugh, the flowres did freshly spring,The trees did bud, and early blossomes bore,And all the quire of birds did sweetly sing,And told that gardins pleasures in their caroling. The fields did laugh, the flowers did freshly spring,The trees did bud and early blossoms bore,And all the quire of birds did sweetly sing,And told that garden's pleasures in their caroling. Bk. II, Canto VI, stanza 24 thumb|In his lap a mass of coin he toldAnd turned upside down, to feed his eyeAnd covetous desire with his huge treasury. His yron cote all ouergrowne with rust,Was vnderneath enueloped with gold,Whose glistring glosse darkned with filthy dust,Well yet appeared, to haue beene of oldA worke of rich entayle, and curious mould,Wouen with antickes and wyld ymagery:And in his lap a masse of coyne he told,And turned vpside downe, to feede his eyeAnd couetous desire with his huge threasury. His iron coat, all overgrown with rust,Was underneath enveloped with gold,Whose glistering gloss, darkened with filthy dust,Well it appeared to have been of oldA work of rich entail and curious mold,Woven with antiques and wild imagery.And in his lap a mass of coin he toldAnd turned upside down, to feed his eyeAnd covetous desire with his huge treasury. Bk. II, Canto VII, stanza 4; of Mammon Before the dore sat selfe-consuming Care,Day and night keeping wary watch and ward,For feare least Force or Fraud should vnawareBreake in, and spoile the treasure there in gard:Ne would he suffer Sleepe once thether-wardApproch, albe his drowsy den were next;For next to death is Sleepe to be compard:Therefore his house is vnto his annext;Here Sleep, ther Richesse, & Helgate thē both betwext. Before the door sat self-consuming Care,Day and night keeping wary watch and ward,For fear lest Force or Fraud should unawareBreak in, and spoil the treasure there in guard:Nor would he suffer Sleep once thitherwardApproach, although his drowsy den were next;For next to Death is Sleep to be compared;Therefore his house is unto his annext:Here Sleep, there Riches, and Hell-gate them both betwixt. Bk. II, Canto VII, stanza 25 Some thought to raise themselues to high degree,By riches and vnrighteous reward,Some by close shouldring, some by flatteree;Others through friendes, others for base regard;And all by wrong waies for themselues prepard.Those that were vp themselues, kept others low,Those that were low themselues held others hard,Ne suffred them to ryse or greater grow,But euery one did striue his fellow downe to throw. Some thought to raise themselves to high degreeBy riches and unrighteous reward;Some by close shouldering; some by flattery;Others through friends; others for base regard;And all by wrong ways for themselves prepared:Those that were up themselves kept others low,Those that were low themselves held others hard,Nor suffered them to rise or greater grow,But every one did drive his fellow down to throw. Bk. II, Canto VII, stanza 47 thumb|And is there care in heaven? and is there loveIn heavenly spirits to these creatures baseThat may compassion of their evils move?There is: else much more wretched were the caseOf men than beasts. thumb|But O! the exceeding graceOf highest God, that loves His creatures so,And all His works with mercy doth embrace,That blessed angels He sends to and froTo serve to wicked man, to serve His wicked foe! thumb|How oft do they their silver bowers leaveTo come to succour us that succour want! thumb|All for love, and nothing for reward! And is there care in heauen? and is their loueIn heauenly spirits to these creatures bace,That may compassion of their euilles moue?There is: else much more wretched were the caceOf men then beasts. But O th'exceeding graceOf highest God, that loues his creatures so,And all his workes with mercy doth embrace,That blessed Angels, he sends to and fro,To serue to wicked man, to serue his wicked foe.How oft do they, their siluer bowers leaue,To come to succour vs, that succour want,How oft do they with golden pineons, cleaueThe flitting skyes, like flying Pursuiuant,Against fowle feendes to ayd vs militant:They for vs fight, they watch and dewly ward,And their bright Squadrons round about vs plant,And all for loue, and nothing for reward:O why should heuenly God to men haue such regard. And is there care in heaven? and is there loveIn heavenly spirits to these creatures baseThat may compassion of their evils move?There is; else much more wretched were the caseOf men than beasts. But O the exceeding graceOf highest God! that loves His creatures so,And all His works with mercy doth embrace,That blessed angels He sends to and froTo serve to wicked man, to serve His wicked foe! How oft do they their silver bowers leaveTo come to succour us that succour want?How oft do they with golden pinions cleaveThe flitting skies, like flying pursuivant,Against foul fiends to aid us militant?They for us fight, they watch and duly ward,And their bright squadrons round about us plant,And all for love and nothing for reward:O why should heavenly God to men have such regard? Bk. II, Canto VIII, stanzas 1–2 thumb|Gold all is not that doth golden seem. Gold al is not, that doth golden seeme. Gold all is not that doth golden seem. Bk. II, Canto VIII, stanza 14 thumb|Of all God's works, which do this world adorn,There is no one more fair and excellentThan is man's body, both for power and form,Whiles it is kept in sober government. Of all Gods workes, which doe this world adorne,There is no one more faire and excellent,Then is mans body both for powre and forme,Whiles it is kept in sober gouernment. Of all God's works, which do this world adorn,There is no one more fair and excellentThan is man's body, both for power and form,Whiles it is kept in sober government. Bk. II, Canto IX, stanza 1 And through the Hall there walked to and froA iolly yeoman, Marshall of the same,Whose name was Appetite; he did bestowBoth guestes and meate, when euer in they came,And knew them how to order without blame. And through the hall there walked to and froA jolly yeoman, marshal of the same,Whose name was Appetite; he did bestowBoth guests and meat, whenever in they came,And knew them how to order without blame. Bk. II, Canto IX, stanza 28 thumb|Love is not where most it is professed. The wretched man gan then auise to late,That loue is not, where most it is profest. The wretched man 'gan then advise too lateThat love is not where most it is professed. Bk. II, Canto X, stanza 31 Note: advise=consider, reflect thumb|What war so cruel, or what siege so sore,As that which strong affections do applyAgainst the fort of reason evermore,To bring the soul into captivity! What warre so cruel, or what siege so sore,As that, which strong affections doe applyAgainst the forte of reason euermore,To bring the sowle into captiuity. What war so cruel, or what siege so sore,As that which strong affections do applyAgainst the fort of reason, evermoreTo bring the soul into captivity! Bk. II, Canto XI, stanza 1 Slaunderous reproches, and fowle infamies,Leasinges, backbytinges, and vaineglorious crakes,Bad counsels, prayses, and false flatteries,All those against that fort did bend their batteries. Slanderous reproaches and foul infamies,Leasings, backbitings, and vain-glorious crakes,Bad counsels, praises, and false flatteries;All those against that fort did bend their batteries. Bk. II, Canto XI, stanza 10 As pale and wan as ashes was his looke,His body leane and meagre as a rake,And skin all withered like a dryed rooke,Thereto as cold and drery as a Snake,That seemd to tremble euermore, and quake. As pale and wan as ashes was his look:His body lean and meager as a rake,And skin all withered like a dried rook;Thereto as cold and dreary as a snake,That seemed to tremble evermore and quake. Bk. II, Canto XI, stanza 22 thumb|Sudden they see, from midst of all the main,The surging waters like a mountain rise,And the great sea puffed up with proud disdain,To swell above the measure of his guise,As threatening to devour all that his power despise. Suddeine they see from midst of all the Maine,The surging waters like a mountaine rise,And the great sea puft vp with proud disdaine,To swell aboue the measure of his guise,As threatning to deuoure all, that his powre despise. Sudden they see, from midst of all the main,The surging waters like a mountain rise,And the great sea puffed up with proud disdain,To swell above the measure of his guise,As threatening to devour all that his power despise. Bk. II, Canto XII, stanza 21 thumb|Here may thy stormbeat vessel safely ride;This is the port of rest from troublous toil,The world's sweet inn from pain and wearisome turmoil. O turne thy rudder hetherward a while:Here may thy storme-bett vessell safely ryde;This is the Port of rest from troublous toyle,The worldes sweet In, frō paine & wearisome turmoyle. O turn thy rudder hitherward awhile:Here may thy stormbeat vessel safely ride;This is the port of rest from troublous toil,The world's sweet inn from pain and wearisome turmoil. Bk. II, Canto XII, stanza 32 thumb|Eftsoons they heard a most melodious sound. Eftsoones they heard a most melodious sound,Of all that mote delight a daintie eare,Such as attonce might not on liuing ground,Saue in this Paradise, be heard elswhere:Right hard it was, for wight, which did it heare,To read, what manner musicke that mote bee:For all that pleasing is to liuing eare,Was there consorted in one harmonee,Birdes, voices, instruments, windes, waters, all agree.The ioyous birdes shrouded in chearefull shade,Their notes vnto the voice attempred sweet;Th'Angelicall soft trembling voyces madeTo th'instruments diuine respondence meet:The siluer sounding instruments did meetWith the base murmure of the waters fall:The waters fall with difference discreet,Now soft, now loud, vnto the wind did call:The gentle warbling wind low answered to all. Eftsoons they heard a most melodious sound,Of all that might delight a dainty ear,Such as at once might not on living ground,Save in this paradise, be heard elsewhere:Right hard it was for wight which did it hear,To read what manner music that might be;For all that pleasing is to living earWas there consorted in one harmony—Birds, voices, instruments, winds, waters, all agree.The joyous birds, shrouded in cheerful shade,Their notes unto the voice attempered sweet;The angelical soft trembling voices madeTo the instruments divine respondence meet;The silver-sounding instruments did meetWith the base murmur of the water's fall;The water's fall with difference discreet,Now soft, now loud, unto the wind did call;The gentle warbling wind low answered to all. Bk. II, Canto XII, stanzas 70–71; the Bower of Bliss thumb|Gather therefore the rose whilst yet is prime,For soon comes age that will her pride deflower;Gather the rose of love whilst yet is time,Whilst loving thou mayst loved be with equal crime. So passeth, in the passing of a day,Of mortall life the leafe, the bud, the flowre,Ne more doth florish after first decay,That earst was sought to deck both bed and bowre,Of many a Lady, and many a Paramowre:Gather therefore the Rose, whilest yet is prime,For soone comes age, that will her pride deflowre:Gather the Rose of loue, whilest yet is time,Whilest louing thou mayst loued be with equall crime. So passeth, in the passing of a day,Of mortal life the leaf, the bud, the flower,Nor more doth flourish after first decay,That erst was sought to deck both bed and bowerOf many a lady, and many a paramour.Gather therefore the rose whilst yet is prime,For soon comes age that will her pride deflower;Gather the rose of love whilst yet is time,Whilst loving thou mayst loved be with equal crime. Bk. II, Canto XII, stanza 75 Compare: Cogliam la rosa in sul mattino adornoDi questo dì, chè tosto il seren perde:Cogliam d'Amor la rosa: amiamo or quandoEsser si puote riamato amando. O gather, then, the rose, while time thou has!Short is the day—done when it scant began;Gather the rose of love, while yet thou mayst,Loving, be loved; embracing, be embraced. Torquato Tasso, Jerusalem Delivered (1581), Canto XVI, stanza 15 (Fairfax's translation of 1600) Gather ye rosebuds while ye may. Robert Herrick, "To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time" (1648) But all those pleasaunt bowres and Pallace braue,Guyon broke downe, with rigour pittilesse;Ne ought their goodly workmanship might saueThem from the tempest of his wrathfulnesse,But that their blisse he turn'd to balefulnesse:Their groues he feld, their gardins did deface,Their arbers spoyle, their Cabinets suppresse,Their banket houses burne, their buildings race,And of the fayrest late, now made the fowlest place. But all those pleasant bowers and palace braveGuyon broke down, with rigour pitiless;Nor aught their goodly workmanship might saveThem from the tempest of his wrathfulness,But that their bliss he turned to balefulness:Their groves he felled, their gardens did deface,Their arbors spoiled, their cabinets suppress,Their banquet-houses burn, their buildings raze,And of the fairest late now made the foulest place. Bk. II, Canto XII, stanza 83 thumb|The dunghill kindDelights in filth and foul incontinence;Let Grill be Grill and have his hoggish mind. The donghill kindeDelightes in filth and fowle incontinence:Let Gryll be Gryll, and haue his hoggish minde. The dunghill kindDelights in filth and foul incontinence;Let Grill be Grill and have his hoggish mind. Bk. II, Canto XII, stanza 87 Book III For who can shun the chance, that dest'ny doth ordaine? For who can shun the chance that destiny doth ordain? Bk. III, Canto I, stanza 37 Through thicke and thin, both ouer banck and bushIn hope her to attaine by hooke or crooke. Through thick and thin, both over bank and bush,In hope her to attain by hook or crook. Bk. III, Canto I, stanza 17 Compare: Through thick and through thin. Geoffrey Chaucer, The Reeve's Tale (c. 1390), line 146 Like dastard Curres, that hauing at a bayThe saluage beast embost in wearie chace,Dare not aduenture on the stubborne pray,Ne byte before, but rome from place to place,To get a snatch, when turned is his face. Like dastard curs that having at a bayThe salvage beast, embossed in weary chase,Dare not adventure on the stubborn prey,Nor bite before, but roam from place to placeTo get a snatch when turned is his face. Bk. III, Canto I, stanza 22 Note: embossed=exhausted, hunted down thumb|For she was full of amiable grace,And manly terror mixed therewithal,That as the one stirred up affections base,So the other did men's rash desires appal,And hold them back that would in error fall. For shee was full of amiable grace,And manly terror mixed therewithall,That as the one stird vp affections bace,So th'other did mens rash desires apall,And hold them backe, that would in error fall;As hee, that hath espide a vermeill Rose,To which sharpe thornes and breres the way forstall,Dare not for dread his hardy hand expose,But wishing it far off, his ydle wish doth lose. For she was full of amiable grace,And manly terror mixed therewithal,That as the one stirred up affections base,So the other did men's rash desires appal,And hold them back that would in error fall:As he that hath espied a vermeil rose,To which sharp thorns and briars the way forestall,Dare not for dread his hardy hand expose,But, wishing it far off, his idle wish doth lose. Bk. III, Canto I, stanza 46; of Britomart (a lady knight representing Chastity) Shee greatly gan enamoured to wex,And with vaine thoughts her falsed fancy vex:Her fickle hart conceiued hasty fyre,Like sparkes of fire, that fall in sclender flex,That shortly brent into extreme desyre,And ransackt all her veines with passion entyre. She greatly 'gan enamoured to wax,And with vain thoughts her falsed fancy vex:Her fickle heart conceived hasty fire,Like sparks of fire which fall in slender flex,That shortly burnt into extreme desire,And ransacked all her veins with passion entire. Bk. III, Canto I, stanza 47 Nought so of loue this looser Dame did skill,But as a cole to kindle fleshly flame,Giuing the bridle to her wanton will,And treading vnder foote her honest name. Nought so of love this looser dame did skill,But as a coal to kindle fleshly flame,Giving the bridle to her wanton will,And treading under foot her honest name. Bk. III, Canto I, stanza 50 thumb|Heart that is inly hurt is greatly easedWith hope of thing that may allay his smart. His feeling wordes her feeble sence much pleased,And softly sunck into her molten hart;Hart that is inly hurt, is greatly easedWith hope of thing, that may allegge his smart,For pleasing wordes are like to Magick art,That doth the charmed Snake in slomber lay: His feeling words her feeble sense much pleased,And softly sunk into her molten heart;Heart that is inly hurt is greatly easedWith hope of thing that may allay his smart;For pleasing words are like to magic artThat doth the charmed snake in slumber lay. Bk. III, Canto II, stanza 15 thumb|Discord oft in music makes the sweeter lay. Dischord ofte in Musick makes the sweeter lay. Discord oft in music makes the sweeter lay. Bk. III, Canto II, stanza 15 But as it falleth, in the gentlest hartsImperious Loue hath highest set his throne,And tyrannizeth in the bitter smartsOf them, that to him buxome are and prone: But, as it falleth, in the gentlest heartsImperious Love hath highest set his throne,And tyrannizeth in the bitter smartsOf them that to him buxom are and prone. Bk. III, Canto II, stanza 23 Note: buxom=obedient thumb|Sad, solemn, sour, and full of fancies frailShe wox, yet wist she neither how nor why;She wist not, silly maid, what she did ail,Yet wist she was not well at ease, perdy,Yet thought it was not love, but some melancholy. Sad, solemne, sowre, and full of fancies fraileShe woxe; yet wist she nether how, nor why,She wist not, silly Mayd, what she did aile,Yet wist, she was not well at ease perdy,Yet thought it was not loue, but some melancholy. Sad, solemn, sour, and full of fancies frailShe wox, yet wist she neither how nor why;She wist not, silly maid, what she did ail,Yet wist she was not well at ease, perdy,Yet thought it was not love, but some melancholy. Bk. III, Canto II, stanza 27; of Britomart's love-sick state Note: wox=grew, became; wist=knew; silly=innocent, helpless; perdy: truly, assuredly Ne ought it mote the noble Mayd auayle,Ne slake the fury of her cruell flame,But that shee still did waste, and still did wayle,That through long languour, & hart-burning brameShe shortly like a pyned ghost became. Nor aught it might the noble maid avail,Nor slake the fury of her cruel flame,But that she still did waste, and still did wail,That through long languor and heart-burning brameShe shortly like a pined ghost became. Bk. III, Canto II, stanza 52 Note: brame=fierce passion, vexation thumb|O sacred fire that burnest mightilyIn living breasts, ykindled first aboveAmongst the eternal spheres and lamping sky,And thence poured into men, which men call love! Most sacred fyre, that burnest mightilyIn liuing brests, ykindled first aboue,Emongst th'eternall spheres and lamping sky,And thence pourd into men, which men call Loue. Most sacred fire, that burnest mightilyIn living breasts, ykindled first aboveAmongst the eternal spheres and lamping sky,And thence poured into men, which men call love. Bk. III, Canto III, stanza 1 Variant in the third edition (1609): Oh sacred fire, that burnest mightilyIn liuing brests, ykindled first aboue,Emongst th'eternall spheres & lamping sky,And thẽce pourd into men, which mẽ cal loue. O sacred fire that burnest mightilyIn living breasts, ykindled first aboveAmongst the eternal spheres and lamping sky,And thence poured into men, which men call love. thumb|Merlin had in magic more insightThan ever him before or after living wight. thumb|For he by words could call out of the skyBoth sun and moon, and make them him obey.Huge hosts of men he could, alone, dismay. For Merlin had in Magick more insight,Then euer him before or after liuing wight.For he by wordes could call out of the skyBoth Sunne and Moone, and make them him obay:The Land to sea, and sea to maineland dry,And darksom night he eke could turne to day:Huge hostes of men he could alone dismay,And hostes of men of meanest thinges could frame,When so him list his enimies to fray:That to this day for terror of his fame,The feends do quake, whē any him to them does name. For Merlin had in magic more insightThan ever him before or after living wight:For he by words could call out of the skyBoth sun and moon, and make them him obey;The land to sea, and sea to mainland dry,And darksome night he eke could turn to day—Huge hosts of men he could, alone, dismay,And hosts of men of meanest things could frame,When so him list his enemies to fray:That to this day, for terror of his fame,The fiends do quake when any him to them does name. Bk. III, Canto III, stanzas 11–12 Whereof she seemes ashamed inwardly. Whereof she seems ashamed inwardly. Bk. III, Canto III, stanza 20 thumb|Where is the antique glory now becomeThat whilom wont in women to appear?Where be the brave achievements done by some?Where be the battles, where the shield and spear,And all the conquests which them high did rear,That matter made for famous poets' verse,And boastful men so oft abashed to hear?Been they all dead and laid in doleful hearse?Or do they only sleep and shall again reverse? Where is the Antique glory now become,That whylome wont in wemen to appeare?Where be the braue atchieuements doen by some?Where be the batteilles, where the shield & speare,And all the conquests, which them high did reare,That matter made for famous Poets verse,And boastfull men so oft abasht to heare?Beene they all dead, and laide in dolefull herse?Or doen they onely sleepe, and shall againe reuerse? Where is the antique glory now becomeThat whilom wont in women to appear?Where be the brave achievements done by some?Where be the battles, where the shield and spear,And all the conquests which them high did rear,That matter made for famous poets' verse,And boastful men so oft abashed to hear?Been they all dead and laid in doleful hearse?Or do they only sleep and shall again reverse? Bk. III, Canto IV, stanza 1 thumb|Fly they that need to fly;Words fearen babes. I mean not thee entreatTo pass, but maugre thee will pass or die. She shortly thus; Fly they, that need to fly;Wordes fearen babes. I meane not thee entreatTo passe; but maugre thee will passe or dy. She shortly thus: "Fly they that need to fly;Words fearen babes; I mean not thee entreatTo pass, but maugre thee will pass or die." Bk. III, Canto IV, stanza 15; Britomart to Marinell Note: fly=flee; fearen=frighten; maugre=in spite of Compare: Through them I mean to pass,That be assured, without leave asked of thee. John Milton, Paradise Lost (1674), Book II, lines 684–685 thumb|But ah, who can deceive his destiny? But ah, who can deceiue his destiny,Or weene by warning to auoyd his fate? But ah, who can deceive his destiny,Or ween by warning to avoid his fate? Bk. III, Canto IV, stanza 27 Note: ween=think, imagine thumb|But well I wot that to a heavy heartThou art the root and nurse of bitter cares,Breeder of new, renewer of old smarts:Instead of rest thou lendest railing tears;Instead of sleep thou sendest troublous fearsAnd dreadful visions, in the which aliveThe dreary image of sad Death appears;So from the weary spirit thou dost driveDesired rest, and men of happiness deprive. But well I wote, that to an heauy hartThou art the roote and nourse of bitter cares,Breeder of new, renewer of old smarts:In stead of rest thou lendest rayling teares,In stead of sleepe thou sendest troublous feares,And dreadfull visions, in the which aliueThe dreary image of sad death appeares:So from the wearie spirit thou doest driueDesired rest, and men of happinesse depriue. "But well I wot that to a heavy heartThou art the root and nurse of bitter cares,Breeder of new, renewer of old smarts:Instead of rest thou lendest railing tears,Instead of sleep thou sendest troublous fearsAnd dreadful visions, in the which aliveThe dreary image of sad death appears;So from the weary spirit thou dost driveDesired rest, and men of happiness deprive." Bk. III, Canto IV, stanza 57; Prince Arthur's soliloquy against Night Note: wot=know, smarts=pain; railing=flowing, trickling down Vnder 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. Under thy mantle black there hidden lieLight-shunning theft and traitorous intent,Abhorred bloodshed and vile felony,Shameful deceit and danger imminent,Foul horror and eke hellish dreariment. Bk. III, Canto IV, stanza 58 Note: dreariment=sorrow thumb|Whether it divine tobacco were,Or panachaea, or polygony,She found and brought it to her patient dear. Whether yt diuine Tobacco were,Or Panachæa, or Polygony,Shee fownd, and brought it to her patient deare. Whether it divine tobacco were,Or panachaea, or polygony,She found and brought it to her patient dear. Bk. III, Canto V, stanza 32 Note: John Aubrey, in his Brief Lives, says that Walter Raleigh (Spenser's friend) "was the first that brought tobacco into England and into fashion"; panachaea=panacea (a herb supposed to cure all diseases—cf. Virgil, Aeneid [19 BCE] 12.419: panaceam, "all-heal"; Lucan, Pharsalia [c. 60 CE] 9.918: panacea; Ariosto, Orlando Furioso [1532], 19.22.3: panacea); polygony=polygonatum (a herb commonly known as Solomon's seal) O foolish physick, and vnfruitfull paine,That heales vp one and makes another wound:She his hurt thigh to him recurd againe,But hurt his hart, the which before was sound. O foolish physic, and unfruitful pain,That heals up one, and makes another wound!She his hurt thigh to him recured again,But hurt his heart, the which before was sound. Bk. III, Canto V, stanza 42 Note: pain=pains, labour Thus warreid he long time against his will,Till that through weaknesse he was forst at last,To yield himselfe vnto the mightie ill:Which as a victour proud, gan ransack fastHis inward partes, and all his entrayles wast,That neither blood in face, nor life in hartIt left, but both did quite drye vp, and blast;As percing leuin, which the inner partOf euery thing consumes, and calcineth by art. Thus warred he long time against his will,Till that through weakness he was forced at lastTo yield himself unto the mighty ill,Which, as a victor proud, 'gan ransack fastHis inward parts and all his entrails waste,That neither blood in face nor life in heartIt left, but both did quite dry up and blast:As piercing levin, which the inner partOf everything consumes and calcineth by art. Bk. III, Canto V, stanza 48; of Timias (Arthur's squire) Note: levin=lightning; calcineth=reduces to powder Litle shee weend, that loue he close conceald;Yet still he wasted, as the snow congeald,When the bright sunne his beams theron doth beat. Little she weened that love he close concealed;Yet still he wasted as the snow congealed,When the bright sun his beams thereon doth beat. Bk. III, Canto V, stanza 49; of Belphoebe and Timias Note: weened=thought Compare: La misera si strugge, come faldastrugger di nieve intempestiva suole,ch’in loco aprico abbia scoperta il sole. The poor damsel wasted away, as a patch of snow out of season will waste when exposed on open ground to the sun. Ariosto, Orlando Furioso (1532), 19.29.6–8 (Guido Waldman's 1983 World's Classics translation) So all did make in her a perfect complement. Bk. III, Canto V, stanza 55 thumb|Her birth was of the womb of morning dew,And her conception of the joyous prime. Her berth was of the wombe of Morning dew,And her conception of the ioyous Prime. Her birth was of the womb of morning dew,And her conception of the joyous prime. Bk. III, Canto VI, stanza 3; of Belphoebe Note: prime=spring (the prime of the year) Compare: The dew of thy birth is of the womb of the morning. Psalm 110:3 (Coverdale's translation of 1535) Roses red, and violets blew,And all the sweetest flowres, that in the forrest grew. Roses red and violets blueAnd all the sweetest flowers that in the forest grew. Bk. III, Canto VI, stanza 6 All that in this delightfull Gardin growes,Should happy bee, and haue immortall blis. All that in this delightful garden growsShould happy be and have immortal bliss. Bk. III, Canto VI, stanza 41; the Garden of Adonis There is continuall Spring, and haruest thereContinuall, both meeting at one tyme:For both the boughes doe laughing blossoms beare,And with fresh colours decke the wanton Pryme,And eke attonce the heauenly trees they clyme,Which seeme to labour vnder their fruites lode:The whiles the ioyous birdes make their pastymeEmongst the shady leaues, their sweet abode,And their trew loues without suspition tell abrode. There is continual spring, and harvest thereContinual, both meeting at one time:For both the boughs do laughing blossoms bearAnd with fresh colours deck the wanton prime,And eke at once the heavy trees they climb,Which seem to labour under their fruits' load;The whiles the joyous birds make their pastimeAmongst the shady leaves, their sweet abode,And their true loves without suspicion tell abroad. Bk. III, Canto VI, stanza 42; the Garden of Adonis Note: prime=spring And in the thickest couert of that shade,There was a pleasaunt Arber, not by art,But of the trees owne inclination made,Which knitting their rancke braunches part to part,With wanton yuie twyne entrayld athwart,And Eglantine, and Caprifole emong,Fashiond aboue within their inmost part,That nether Phoebus beams could through thẽ thrõg,Nor Aeolus sharp blast could worke them any wrong. And in the thickest covert of that shadeThere was a pleasant arbour, not by artBut of the trees' own inclination made,Which, knitting their rank branches part to part,With wanton ivy twine entrailed athwart,And eglantine and caprifole among,Fashioned above within their inmost part,That neither Phoebus' beams could through them throng,Nor Aeolus' sharp blast could work them any wrong. Bk. III, Canto VI, stanza 44; the Garden of Adonis Note: rank=dense, luxuriant; entrailed athwart=twisted across; eglantine=sweet-briar; caprifole=honeysuckle, woodbine With that adowne out of her christall eyneFew trickling teares she softly forth let fall,That like two orient perles, did purely shyneVpon her snowy cheeke. With that, adown out of her crystal eyneFew trickling tears she softly forth let fall,That like to orient pearls did purely shineUpon her snowy cheek. Bk. III, Canto VII, stanza 9 thumb|Hard is to teach an old horse amble true. Hard is to teach an old horse amble trew. Hard is to teach an old horse amble true. Bk. III, Canto VIII, stanza 26 thumb|A fool I do him firmly holdThat loves his fetters, though they were of gold. A foole I doe him firmely hold,That loues his fetters, though they were of gold. A fool I do him firmly holdThat loves his fetters, though they were of gold. Bk. III, Canto IX, stanza 8 thumb|[Man] that flowers so fresh at morn, and fades at evening late. Mans wretched state,That floures so fresh at morne, & fades at euening late. Man's wretched state,That flowers so fresh at morn, and fades at evening late. Bk. III, Canto IX, stanza 39 A famous history to bee enroldIn euerlasting moniments of brasse. A famous history to be enrolledIn everlasting monuments of brass. Bk. III, Canto IX, stanza 50 And otherwhyles with amorous delights,And pleasing toyes he would her entertaine,Now singing sweetly, to surprize her sprights,Now making layes of loue and louers paine,Bransles, Ballads, virelayes, and verses vaine;Oft purposes, oft riddles he deuysd,And thousands like, which flowed in his braine,With which he sed her fancy, and entysdTo take with his new loue, and leaue her old despysd. And otherwhiles with amorous delightsAnd pleasing toys he would her entertain,Now singing sweetly to surprise her sprites,Now making lays of love and lovers' pain,Bransles, ballads, virelays and verses vain;Oft purposes, oft riddles he devised,And thousands like which flowed in his brain,With which he fed her fancy and enticedTo take to his new love and leave her old despised. Bk. III, Canto X, stanza 8 thumb|And painful pleasure turns to pleasing pain. Yet can he neuer dye, but dying liues,And doth himselfe with sorrow new sustaine,That death and life attonce vnto him giues.And painefull pleasure turnes to pleasing paine. Yet can he never die, but dying lives,And doth himself with sorrow new sustain,That death and life at once unto him gives,And painful pleasure turns to pleasing pain. Bk. III, Canto X, stanza 60 thumb|Foul Jealousy, that turnest love divineTo joyless dread, and makest the loving heartWith hateful thoughts to languish and to pineAnd feed itself with self-consuming smart:Of all the passions in the mind thou vilest art. Fowle Gealosy, that turnest loue diuineTo ioylesse dread, and mak'st the louing hartWith hatefull thoughts to languish and to pine,And feed it selfe with selfe-consuming smart?Of all the passions in the mind thou vilest art. Foul Jealousy, that turnest love divineTo joyless dread, and makest the loving heartWith hateful thoughts to languish and to pineAnd feed itself with self-consuming smart:Of all the passions in the mind thou vilest art. Bk. III, Canto XI, stanza 1 Life is not lost, (said she) for which is boughtEndlesse renowm. "Life is not lost," said she, "for which is boughtEndless renown." Bk. III, Canto XI, stanza 19; spoken by Britomart thumb|Be bold, be bold, and everywhere Be bold. thumb|Be not too bold. And as she lookt about, she did behold,How ouer that same dore was likewise writ,Be bolde, be bolde, and euery where Be bold,That much she muz'd, yet could not construe itBy any ridling skill, or commune wit.At last she spyde at that rowmes vpper end,Another yron dore, on which was writ,Be not too bold. And as she looked about, she did beholdHow over that same door was likewise writ,Be bold, be bold, and everywhere Be bold,That much she mused, yet could not construe itBy any riddling skill or common wit.At last she spied at that room's upper endAnother iron door, on which was writ,Be not too bold. Bk. III, Canto XI, stanza 54 Compare: De l'audace, encore de l'audace, et toujours de l'audace. Boldness, again boldness, and ever boldness. Georges-Jacques Danton, speech in the National Assembly at Paris (2 September 1792) Next him was Feare, all arm'd from top to toe,Yet thought himselfe not safe enough thereby,But feard each shadow mouing too 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 euermore on daunger fixt his eye,Gainst whom he alwayes bent a brasen shield,Which his right hand vnarmed fearefully did wield. Next him was Fear, all armed from top to toe,Yet thought himself not safe enough thereby,But feared each shadow moving to and fro;And his own arms when glittering he did spyOr clashing heard, he fast away did fly,As ashes pale of hue and wingy-heeled;And evermore on danger fixed his eye,'Gainst whom he always bent a brazen shield,Which his right hand unarmed fearfully did wield. Bk. III, Canto XII, stanza 12 With him went Hope in rancke, a handsome Mayd,Of chearefull looke and louely to behold;In silken samite she was light arayd,And her fayre lockes were wouen vp in gold;She alway smyld, and in her hand did holdAn holy water Sprinckle, dipt in deowe,With which slie sprinckled fauours manifold,On whom she list, and did great liking sheowe,Great liking vnto many, but true loue to feowe. With him went Hope in rank, a handsome maid,Of cheerful look and lovely to behold;In silken samite she was light arrayed,And her fair locks were woven up in gold;She always smiled, and in her hand did holdA holy-water sprinkle dipped in dew,With which she sprinkled favours manifoldOn whom she list, and did great liking show;Great liking unto many, but true love to few. Bk. III, Canto XII, stanza 13 He lowrd on her with daungerous eyeglaunce;Shewing his nature in his countenaunce;His rolling eies did neuer 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 pace. He lowered on her with dangerous eye-glance,Showing his nature in his countenance;His rolling eyes did never rest in place,But walked each where for fear of hid mischance,Holding a lattice still before his face,Through which he still did peep as forward he did pace. Bk. III, Canto XII, stanza 15; description of Suspect (a personification of Suspicion) in the "masque of Cupid", which Britomart witnesses in the house of Busirane Letter to Raleigh The generall end therefore of all the booke is to fashion a gentleman or noble person in vertuous and gentle discipline. The general end therefore of all the book is to fashion a gentleman or noble person in virtuous and gentle discipline. Edmund Spenser's prefatory letter to Walter Raleigh, dated 23 January 1589 (Old Style; 1590 New Style), appended to the 1590 edition of The Faerie Queene Dedicatory Sonnets thumb|The rugged brow of careful policy. So you great Lord, that with your counsell swayThe burdeine of this kingdom mightily,With like delightes sometimes may eke delay,The rugged brow of carefull Policy. So you, great lord, that with your counsel swayThe burden of this kingdom mightily,With like delights sometimes may eke delayThe rugged brow of careful policy. Edmund Spenser's dedicatory sonnet to Christopher Hatton, appended to the 1590 edition of The Faerie Queene Note: eke=also; delay=smooth Books IV–VI (1596) Book IV thumb|Dan Chaucer, well of English undefiled. Dan Chaucer, well of English vndefyled,On Fames eternall beadroll worthie to be fyled. Dan Chaucer, well of English undefiled,On Fame's eternal beadroll worthy to be filed. Bk. IV, Canto II, stanza 32 Borne of one mother in one happie mold,Borne at one burden in one happie morne. Born of one mother in one happy mould,Born at one burden in one happy morn. Bk. IV, Canto II, stanza 41 And with vnwearied fingers drawing outThe lines of life, from liuing knowledge hid. And with unwearied fingers drawing outThe lines of life, from living knowledge hid. Bk. IV, Canto II, stanza 48 thumb|Most wretched men, whose days depend on threads so vain! That cruell Atropos eftsoones vndid,With cursed knife cutting the twist in twaine:Most wretched men, whose dayes depend on thrids so vaine. That cruel Atropos eftsoons undid,With cursed knife cutting the twist in twain:Most wretched men, whose days depend on threads so vain! Bk. IV, Canto II, stanza 48 Note: Atropos was one of the Three Fatal Sisters, whose office it was to cut the thread of life thumb|Sweet is the love that comes alone with willingness. Sweete is the loue that comes alone with willingnesse. Sweet is the love that comes alone with willingness. Bk. IV, Canto V, stanza 25 Rude was his garment, and to rags all rent,Ne better had he, ne for better cared:With blistred hands emongst the cinders brent,And fingers filthie, with long nayles vnpared,Right fit to rend the food, on which he fared.His name was Care; a blacksmith by his trade,That neither day nor night from working spared,But to small purpose yron wedges made;Those be vnquiet thoughts, that carefull minds inuade. Rude was his garment, and to rags all rent;Nor better had he, nor for better cared:With blistered hands amongst the cinders brent,And fingers filthy, with long nails unpared,Right fit to rend the food on which he fared.His name was Care; a blacksmith by his trade,That neither day nor night from working spared,But to small purpose iron wedges made;Those be unquiet thoughts that careful minds invade. Bk. IV, Canto V, stanza 35 Note: brent=burnt; careful=full of care What equall torment to the griefe of mind,And pyning anguish hid in gentle hart,That inly feeds it selfe with thoughts vnkind,And nourisheth her owne consuming smart?What medicine can any Leaches artYeeld such a sore, that doth her grieuance hide,And will to none her maladie impart? What equal torment to the grief of mind,And pining anguish hid in gentle heart,That inly feeds itself with thoughts unkind,And nourisheth her own confusing smart?What medicine can any leech's artYield such a sore, that doth her grievance hide,And will to none her malady impart? Bk. IV, Canto VI, stanza 1 All she did was but to weare out day.Full oftentimes she leaue of him did take;And eft againe deuiz'd some what to say,Which she forgot, whereby excuse to make:So loth she was his companie for to forsake. All she did was but to wear out day.Full oftentimes she leave of him did take;And oft again devised somewhat to say,Which she forgot, whereby excuse to make:So loath she was his company for to forsake. Bk. IV, Canto VI, stanza 45 Yet was he but a Squire of low degree. Yet was he but a squire of low degree. Bk. IV, Canto VII, stanza 15 A foule and loathly creature sure in sight,And in conditions to be loath'd no lesse:For she was stuft with rancour and despightVp to the throat, that oft with bitternesseIt forth would breake, and gush in great excesse,Pouring out streames of poyson and of gallGainst all, that truth or vertue doe professe,Whom she with leasings lewdly did miscall,And wickedly backbite: Her name men Sclaunder call. A foul and loathly creature sure in sight,And in conditions to be loathed no less:For she was stuffed with rancour and despiteUp to the throat, that oft with bitternessIt forth would break and gush in great excess,Pouring out streams of poison and of gall'Gainst all that truth or virtue do profess;Whom she with leasings lewdly did miscallAnd wickedly backbite; her name men Slander call. Bk. IV, Canto VIII, stanza 24 For like the stings of Aspes, that kill with smart,Her spightfull words did pricke, & wound the inner part. For, like the stings of asps that kill with smart,Her spiteful words did prick and wound the inner part. Bk. IV, Canto VIII, stanza 26 thumb|From that day forth, in peace and joyous blissThey lived together long without debate;Nor private jar, nor spite of enemies,Could shake the safe assurance of their state. From that day forth in peace and ioyous blis,They liu'd together long without debate,Ne priuate iarre, ne spite of enemisCould shake the safe assuraunce of their state. From that day forth, in peace and joyous blissThey lived together long without debate;Nor private jar, nor spite of enemies,Could shake the safe assurance of their state. Bk. IV, Canto IX, stanza 16; of the marriage between Poeana and Placidas Faint friends when they fall out, most cruell fomen bee. Faint friends when they fall out most cruel foemen be. Bk. IV, Canto IX, stanza 27 True he it said, what euer man it sayd,That loue with gall and hony doth abound,But if the one be with the other wayd,For euery dram of hony therein found,A pound of gall doth ouer it redound. True he it said, whatever man it said,That love with gall and honey doth abound;But if the one be with the other weighed,For every dram of honey therein foundA pound of gall doth over it redound. Bk. IV, Canto X, stanza 1 His name was Doubt, that had a double face,Th'one forward looking, th'other backeward bent,Therein resembling Ianus auncient,Which hath in charge the ingate of the yeare:And euermore his eyes about him went,As if some proued perill he did feare,Or did misdoubt some ill, whose cause did not appeare. His name was Doubt, that had a double face,The one forward looking, the other backward bent,Therein resembling Janus ancient,Which had in charge the ingate of the year:And evermore his eyes about him went,As if some proved peril he did fear,Or did misdoubt some ill, whose cause did not appear. Bk. IV, Canto X, stanza 12 thumb|For all that nature by her mother-witCould frame in earth. For all that nature by her mother witCould frame in earth. For all that nature by her mother-witCould frame in earth. Bk. IV, Canto X, stanza 21 And her against sweet Cherefulnesse was placed,Whose eyes like twinkling stars in euening cleare,Were deckt with smyles, that all sad humors chaced,And darted forth delights, the which her goodly graced. And her against sweet Cheerfulness was placed,Whose eyes, like twinkling stars in evening clear,Were decked with smiles that all sad humours chased,And darted forth delights the which her goodly graced. Bk. IV, Canto X, stanza 50 Ne lesse was she in secret hart affected,But that she masked it with modestie,For feare she should of lightnesse be detected. Nor less was she in secret heart affected,But that she masked it with modesty,For fear she should of lightness be detected. Bk. IV, Canto XII, stanza 35 Book V thumb|Me seems the world is run quite out of squareFrom the first point of his appointed source;And, being once amiss, grows daily worse and worse. Me seemes the world is runne quite out of square,From the first point of his appointed sourse,And being once amisse growes daily wourse and wourse. Me seems the world is run quite out of squareFrom the first point of his appointed source;And, being once amiss, grows daily worse and worse. Bk. V, Proem, stanza 1 For that which all men then did vertue call,Is now cald vice; and that which vice was hight,Is now hight vertue, and so vs'd of all:Right now is wrong, and wrong that was is right. For that which all men then did virtue call,Is now called vice; and that which vice was hight,Is now hight virtue, and so used of all;Right now is wrong, and wrong that was is right. Bk. V, Proem, stanza 4 thumb|Nought is more honorable to a knight,Nor better doth beseem brave chivalry,Than to defend the feeble in their rightAnd wrong redress in such as wend awry. Nought is more honorable to a knight,Ne better doth beseeme braue cheualry,Then to defend the feeble in their right,And wrong redresse in such as wend awry. Nought is more honorable to a knight,Nor better doth beseem brave chivalry,Than to defend the feeble in their rightAnd wrong redress in such as wend awry. Bk. V, Canto II, stanza 1 thumb|For there is nothing lost that may be found if sought. For whatsoeuer from one place doth fall,Is with the tide vnto an other brought:For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought. For whatsoever from one place doth fallIs with the tide unto another brought:For there is nothing lost that may be found if sought. Bk. V, Canto II, stanza 39 thumb|He maketh kings to sit in sovereignty;He maketh subjects to their power obey;He pulleth down, He setteth up on high;He gives to this, from that He takes away:For all we have is His: what He list do, He may. He maketh Kings to sit in souerainty;He maketh subiects to their powre obay;He pulleth downe, he setteth vp on hy;He giues to this, from that he takes away.For all we haue is his: what he list doe, he may. He maketh kings to sit in sovereignty;He maketh subjects to their power obey;He pulleth down, he setteth up on high;He gives to this, from that he takes away:For all we have is his: what he list do, he may. Bk. V, Canto II, stanza 41 For take thy ballaunce, if thou be so wise,And weigh the winde, that vnder heauen doth blow;Or weigh the light, that in the East doth rise;Or weigh the thought, that frõ mans mind doth flow. For take thy balance, if thou be so wise,And weigh the wind that under heaven doth blow;Or weigh the light that in the east doth rise;Or weigh the thought that from man's mind doth flow. Bk. V, Canto II, stanza 43 thumb|Ill can he rule the great that cannot reach the small. Ill can he rule the great, that cannot reach the small. Ill can he rule the great that cannot reach the small. Bk. V, Canto II, stanza 43 After long stormes and tempests ouerblowne,The sunne at length his ioyous face doth cleare:So when as fortune all her spight hath showne,Some blisfull houres at last must needes appeare;Else should afflicted wights oftimes despeire. After long storms and tempests overblown,The sun at length his joyous face doth clear;So whenas fortune all her spite hath shown,Some blissful hours at last must needs appear;Else would afflicted wights oft-times despair. Bk. V, Canto III, stanza 1 All sodainely enflam'd with furious fit,Like a fell Lionesse at him she flew,And on his head-peece him so fiercely smit,That to the ground him quite she ouerthrew,Dismayd so with the stroke, that he no colours knew. All suddenly inflamed with furious fit,Like a fell lioness at him she flew,And on his head-piece him so fiercely smit,That to the ground him quite she overthrew,Dismayed so with the stroke that he no colours knew. Bk. V, Canto IV, stanza 39 thumb|So hard it is to be a woman's slave! A sordid office for a mind so braue.So hard it is to be a womans slaue. A sordid office for a mind so brave:So hard it is to be a woman's slave! Bk. V, Canto V, stanza 23 Nought is on earth more sacred or diuine,That Gods and men doe equally adore,Then this same vertue, that doth right define:For th'heuens thẽselues, whence mortal men imploreRight in their wrongs, are rul'd by righteous loreOf highest Ioue, who doth true iustice dealeTo his inferiour Gods, and euermoreTherewith containes his heauenly Common-weale:The skill whereof to Princes hearts he doth reueale. Nought is on earth more sacred or divine,That gods and men do equally adore,Than this same virtue, that doth right define;For the heavens themselves, whence mortal men imploreRight in their wrongs, are ruled by righteous loreOf highest Jove, who doth true justice dealTo his inferior gods, and evermoreTherewith contains his heavenly commonweal:The skill whereof to princes' hearts he doth reveal. Bk. V, Canto VII, stanza 1 thumb|Nought under heaven so strongly doth allureThe sense of man, and all his mind possess,As Beauty's lovely bait, that doth procureGreat warriors oft their rigour to repress,And mighty hands forget their manliness. Nought vnder heauen so strongly doth allureThe sence of man, and all his minde possesse,As beauties louely baite, that doth procureGreat warriours oft their rigour to represse,And mighty hands forget their manlinesse;Drawne with the powre of an heart-robbing eye,And wrapt in fetters of a golden tresse,That can with melting pleasaunce mollifyeTheir hardned hearts, enur'd to bloud and cruelty. Nought under heaven so strongly doth allureThe sense of man, and all his mind possess,As Beauty's lovely bait, that doth procureGreat warriors oft their rigour to repress,And mighty hands forget their manliness;Drawn with the power of an heart-robbing eye,And wrapped in fetters of a golden tress,That can with melting pleasance mollifyTheir hardened hearts, inured to blood and cruelty. Bk. V, Canto VIII, stanza 1 Some Clarkes doe doubt in their deuicefull art,Whether this heauenly thing, whereof I treat,To weeten Mercie, be of Iustice part,Or drawne forth from her by diuine extreate.This well I wote, that sure she is as great,And meriteth to haue as high a place,Sith in th'Almighties euerlasting seatShe first was bred, and borne of heauenly race;From thence pour'd down on men, by influence of grace. Some clerks do doubt, in their deviceful art,Whether this heavenly thing whereof I treat,To weeten mercy, be of justice part,Or drawn forth from her by divine extreat:This well I wot, that sure she is as great,And meriteth to have as high a place,Sith in the Almighty's everlasting seatShe first was bred and born of heavenly race;From thence poured down on men by influence of grace. Bk. V, Canto X, stanza 1 thumb|It often falls, in course of common life,That right long time is overborne of wrong,Through avarice, or power, or guile, or strife;But Justice, though her doom she do prolong,Yet, at the last, she will her own cause right. It often fals in course of common life,That right long time is ouerborne of wrong,Through auarice, or powre, or guile, or strife,That weakens her, and makes her party strong:But Iustice, though her dome she doe prolong,Yet at the last she will her owne cause right. It often falls, in course of common life,That right, long time, is overborne of wrong,Through avarice, or power, or guile, or strife,That weakens her, and makes her party strong;But Justice, though her doom she do prolong,Yet, at the last, she will her own cause right. Bk. V, Canto XI, stanza 1 Dearer is loue then life, and fame then gold;But dearer then thẽ both, your faith once plighted hold. Dearer is love than life, and fame than gold;But dearer than them both, your faith once plighted hold. Bk. V, Canto XI, stanza 63 thumb|O sacred hunger of ambitious mindsAnd impotent desire of men to reign! Osacred hunger of ambitious mindes,And impotent desire of men to raine,Whom neither dread of God, that deuils bindes,Nor lawes of men, that common weales containe,Nor bands of nature, that wilde beastes restraine,Can keepe from outrage, and from doing wrong,Where they may hope a kingdome to obtaine.No faith so firme, no trust can be so strong,No loue so lasting then, that may enduren long. O sacred hunger of ambitious mindsAnd impotent desire of men to reign,Whom neither dread of God, that devils binds,Nor laws of men, that commonweals contain,Nor bands of nature, that wild beasts restrain,Can keep from outrage and from doing wrong,Where they may hope a kingdom to obtain.No faith so firm, no trust can be so strong,No love so lasting then, that may enduren long. Bk. V, Canto XII, stanza 1 Note: sacred=cursed, detestable (one of the meanings of the Latin sacer; see John Upton's glossary in his edition of Spenser's Faerie Queene, 1758, Vol. I, p. xlv) Compare: Auri sacra fames. Accursed hunger for gold. Virgil, Aeneid (19 BCE), Book III, line 57 (Loeb translation by H. Rushton Fairclough) And made to fly, like doues, whom the Eagle doth affray. And made to fly like doves, whom the eagle doth affray. Bk. V, Canto XII, stanza 5 Her hands were foule and durtie, neuer washtIn all her life, with long nayles ouer raught,Like puttocks clawes: with th'one of which she scrachtHer cursed head, although it itched naught;The other held a snake with venime fraught,On which she fed, and gnawed hungrily,As if that long she had not eaten ought;That round about her iawes one might descryThe bloudie gore and poyson dropping lothsomely. Her hands were foul and dirty, never washedIn all her life, with long nails over-raught,Like puttock's claws with the one of which she scratchedHer cursed head, although it itched naught;The other held a snake with venom fraught,On which she fed and gnawed hungrily,As if that long she had not eaten aught;That round about her jaws one might descryThe bloody gore and poison dropping loathsomely. Bk. V, Canto XII, stanza 30; of Envy Her face was vgly, and her mouth distort,Foming with poyson round about her gils,In which her cursed tongue full sharpe and shortAppear'd like Aspis sting, that closely kils,Or cruelly does wound, whom so she wils:A distaffe in her other hand she had,Vpon the which she litle spinnes, but spils,And faynes to weaue false tales and leasings bad,To throw amongst the good, which others had disprad. Her face was ugly, and her mouth distort,Foaming with poison round about her gills,In which her cursed tongue (full sharp and short)Appeared like asp's sting, that closely killsOr cruelly does wound whomso she wills;A distaff in her other hand she had,Upon the which she little spins, but spills;And fains to weave false tales and leasings bad,To throw amongst the good, which others had disprad. Bk. V, Canto XII, stanza 36; of Detraction thumb|A monster, which the Blatant Beast men call;A dreadful fiend, of gods and men ydrad. A monster, which the Blatant beast men call,A dreadfull feend of gods and men ydrad. A monster, which the Blatant Beast men call,A dreadful fiend, of gods and men ydrad. Bk. V, Canto XII, stanza 37 Book VI thumb|Virtue's seat is deep within the mind,And not in outward shows, but inward thoughts defined. Yet is that glasse so gay, that it can blyndThe wisest sight, to thinke gold that is bras. Yet is that glass so gay that it can blindThe wisest sight, to think gold that is brass. Bk. VI, Proem, stanza 5; of fashion But vertues seat is deepe within the mynd,And not in outward shows, but inward thoughts defynd. But Virtue's seat is deep within the mind,And not in outward shows but inward thoughts defined. Bk. VI, Proem, stanza 5 No greater shame to man then inhumanitie. "No greater shame to man than inhumanity." Bk. VI, Canto I, stanza 26; spoken by Calidore In vaine he seeketh others to suppresse,Who hath not learnd him selfe first to subdew. "In vain he seeketh others to suppressWho hath not learned himself first to subdue." Bk. VI, Canto I, stanza 41; spoken by Calidore thumb|Who will not mercy unto others show,How can he mercy ever hope to have? Who will not mercie vnto others shew,How can he mercy euer hope to haue? "Who will not mercy unto others show,How can he mercy ever hope to have?" Bk. VI, Canto I, stanza 42; spoken by Calidore Compare: Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy. Matthew 5:7 KJV What vertue is so fitting for a knight,Or for a Ladie, whom a knight should loue,As Curtesie, to beare themselues arightTo all of each degree, as doth behoue? What virtue is so fitting for a knight,Or for a lady whom a knight should love,As Courtesy; to bear themselves arightTo all of each degree as doth behove? Bk. VI, Canto II, stanza 1 thumb|The gentle mind by gentle deeds is known:For man by nothing is so well bewrayedAs by his manners. True is, that whilome that good Poet sayd,The gentle minde by gentle deeds is knowne.For a man by nothing is so well bewrayd,As by his manners, in which plaine is showneOf what degree and what race he is growne. True is, that whilom that good poet said,The gentle mind by gentle deeds is known:For man by nothing is so well bewrayedAs by his manners, in which plain is shownOf what degree and what race he is grown. Bk. VI, Canto III, stanza 1 Note: whilom=formerly, once upon a time; bewrayed=betrayed, revealed Compare: He is gentil that doth gentil dedis. He is gentle that does gentle deeds. Geoffrey Chaucer, Wife of Bath's Tale (c. 1390), line 1170 He was to weete a man of full ripe yeares,That in his youth had beene of mickle might,And borne great sway in armes amongst his peares:But now weake age had dimd his candle light.Yet was he courteous still to euery wight. He was to weet a man of full ripe years,That in his youth had been of mickle might,And borne great sway in arms amongst his peers;But now weak age had dimmed his candle-light.Yet was he courteous still to every wight. Bk. VI, Canto III, stanza 3 Note: mickle=much Such is the weakenesse of all mortall hope;So tickle is the state of earthly things,That ere they come vnto their aymed scope,They fall too short of our fraile reckonings,And bring vs bale and bitter sorrowings,In stead of comfort, which we should embrace. Such is the weakness of all mortal hope;So tickle is the state of earthly things;That, ere they come unto their aimed scope,They fall too short of our frail reckonings,And bring us bale and bitter sorrowings,Instead of comfort which we should embrace. Bk. VI, Canto III, stanza 5 Note: tickle=unstable, uncertain Ill seemes (sayd he) if he so valiaunt be,That he should be so sterne to stranger wight:For seldome yet did liuing creature see,That curtesie and manhood euer disagree. "Ill seems," said he, "if he so valiant be,That he should be so stern to stranger wight:For seldom yet did living creature seeThat courtesy and manhood ever disagree." Bk. VI, Canto III, stanza 40; spoken by Calepine Mosse bestrowed,Must be their bed, their pillow was vnsowed. Moss bestrowedMust be their bed; their pillow was unsewed. Bk. VI, Canto IV, stanza 14 Therein he them full faire did entertaineNot with such forged showes, as fitter beeneFor courting fooles, that curtesies would faine,But with entire affection and appearaunce plaine. Therein he them full fair did entertain,Not with such forged shows, as fitter beenFor courting fools that courtesies would feign,But with entire affection and appearance plain. Bk. VI, Canto V, stanza 38 No wound, which warlike hand of enemyInflicts with dint of sword, so sore doth light,As doth the poysnous sting, which infamyInfixeth in the name of noble wight:For by no art, nor any leaches mightIt euer can recured be againe;Ne all the skill, which that immortall sprightOf Podalyrius did in it retaine,Can remedy such hurts; such hurts are hellish paine. No wound, which warlike hand of enemyInflicts with dint of sword, so sore doth lightAs doth the poisonous sting which infamyInfixeth in the name of noble wight:For by no art, nor any leach's might,It ever can recured be again;Nor all the skill, which that immortal sprightOf Podalirius did in it retain,Can remedy such hurts; such hurts are hellish pain. Bk. VI, Canto VI, stanza 1 Giue salues to euery sore, but counsell to the minde. Give salves to every sore, but counsel to the mind. Bk. VI, Canto VI, stanza 5 Thereto, when needed, she could weepe and pray,And when her listed, she could fawne and flatter;Now smyling smoothly, like to sommers day,Now glooming sadly, so to cloke her matter;Yet were her words but wynd, & all her teares but water. Thereto, when needed, she could weep and pray,And when her listed she could fawn and flatter;Now smiling smoothly, like to summer's day,Now glooming sadly, so to cloak her matter;Yet were her words but wind, and all her tears but water. Bk. VI, Canto VI, stanza 42; of Blandina Through thick and thin, through mountains & through plains. Through thick and thin, through mountains and through plains. Bk. VI, Canto VII, stanza 44 Ye gentle Ladies, in whose soueraine powreLoue hath the glory of his kingdome left,And th'hearts of men, as your eternall dowre,In yron chaines, of liberty bereft,Deliuered hath into your hands by gift;Be well aware, how ye the same doe vse,That pride doe not to tyranny you lift;Least if men you of cruelty accuse,He from you take that chiefedome, which ye doe abuse. Ye gentle ladies, in whose sovereign powerLove hath the glory of his kingdom left,And the hearts of men, as your eternal dower,In iron chains, of liberty bereft,Delivered hath into your hands by gift;Be well aware how ye the same do use,That pride do not to tyranny you lift;Lest, if men you of cruelty accuse,He from you take that chiefdom which ye do abuse. Bk. VI, Canto VIII, stanza 1 Then to the rest his wrathfull hand he bends,Of whom he makes such hauocke and such hew,That swarmes of damned soules to hell he sends:The rest that scape his sword and death eschew,Fly like a flocke of doues before a Faulcons vew. Then to the rest his wrathful hand he bends;Of whom he makes such havoc and such hew,That swarms of damned souls to hell he sends;The rest, that scape his sword and death eschew,Fly like a flock of doves before a falcon's view. Bk. VI, Canto VIII, stanza 49 thumb|It is the mind that maketh good or ill,That maketh wretch or happy, rich or poor. It is the mynd, that maketh good or ill,That maketh wretch or happie, rich or poore:For some, that hath abundance at his will,Hath not enough, but wants in greatest store;And other, that hath litle, askes no more,But in that litle is both rich and wise.For wisedome is most riches; fooles thereforeThey are, which fortunes doe by vowes deuize,Sith each vnto himselfe his life may fortunize. It is the mind that maketh good or ill,That maketh wretch or happy, rich or poor:For some that hath abundance at his willHath not enough, but wants in greatest store;And other that hath little asks no more,But in that little is both rich and wise;For wisdom is most riches; fools thereforeThey are which fortunes do by vows devise,Since each unto himself his life may fortunize. Bk. VI, Canto IX, stanza 30 Old loue is litle worth when new is more prefard. Old love is little worth when new is more preferred. Bk. VI, Canto IX, stanza 40 Which to recure, no skill of Leaches artMote him auaile, but to returne againeTo his wounds worker, that with louely dartDinting his brest, had bred his restlesse paine,Like as the wounded Whale to shore flies fro the maine. Which to recure, no skill of leach's artMight him avail, but to return againTo his wound's worker, that with lovely dartDinting his breast had bred his restless pain;Like as the wounded whale to shore flies from the main. Bk. VI, Canto X, stanza 31 Note: recure=recover, cure; dinting=denting, piercing This whaling simile is quoted by Herman Melville in his introductory "Extracts" to Moby-Dick (1851), p. xiii, as follows: "Which to secure, no skill of leach's artMote him availle, but to returne againeTo his wound's worker, that with lowly dart,Dinting his breast, had bred his restless paine,Like as the wounded whale to shore flies thro' the maine." The gentle heart scornes base disparagement. The gentle heart scorns base disparagement. Bk. VI, Canto X, stanza 37 thumb|The joys of love, if they should ever lastWithout affliction or disquietnessThat worldly chances do amongst them cast,Would be on earth too great a blessedness. The ioyes of loue, if they should euer last,Without affliction or disquietnesse,That worldly chaunces doe amongst them cast,Would be on earth too great a blessednesse,Liker to heauen, then mortall wretchednesse.Therefore the winged God, to let men weet,That here on earth is no sure happinesse,A thousand sowres hath tempred with one sweet,To make it seeme more deare and dainty, as is meet. The joys of love, if they should ever lastWithout affliction or disquietnessThat worldly chances do amongst them cast,Would be on earth too great a blessedness,Liker to heaven than mortal wretchedness:Therefore the winged god, to let men weetThat here on earth is no sure happiness,A thousand sours hath tempered with one sweet,To make it seem more dear and dainty, as is meet. Bk. VI, Canto XI, stanza 1 And therein were a thousand tongs empight,Of sundry kindes, and sundry quality,Some were of dogs, that barked day and night,And some of cats, that wrawling still did cry.And some of Beares, that groynd continually,And some of Tygres, that did seeme to gren,And snar at all, that euer passed by:But most of them were tongues of mortall men,Which spake reprochfully, not caring where nor when.And them amongst were mingled here and there,The tongues of Serpents with three forked stings,That spat out poyson and gore bloudy gereAt all, that came within his rauenings,And spake licentious words, and hatefull thingsOf good and bad alike, of low and hie;Ne Kesars spared he a whit, nor Kings,But either blotted them with infamie,Or bit them with his banefull teeth of iniury. And therein were a thousand tongues empightOf sundry kinds and sundry quality;Some were of dogs, that barked day and night,And some of cats, that wrawling still did cry,And some of bears, that groined continually,And some of tigers, that did seem to grenAnd snarl at all that ever passed by;But most of them were tongues of mortal men,Which spake reproachfully, not caring where nor when.And them amongst were mingled here and thereThe tongues of serpents, with three-forked stings,That spat out poison, and gore-bloody gear,At all that came within his ravenings;And spake licentious words and hateful thingsOf good and bad alike, of low and high;Nor kaisers spared he a whit nor kings,But either blotted them with infamy,Or bit them with his baneful teeth of injury. Bk. VI, Canto XII, stanzas 27–28 Book VII? (1609) Note: The "Two Cantos of Mutability", numbered VI and VII, and two stanzas of an "unperfite" canto numbered VIII, first appeared with the third edition of The Faerie Queene, published by the bookseller Matthew Lownes in 1609 (ten years after Spenser's death), and are supposed to be part of book VII. In the opinion of literary critic George Lillie Craik, "the poetry has none of the marks of imitation, and is not only perfectly in Spenser's manner throughout, but much of it in his very highest style", and (speaking of the unfinished canto VIII), "All will acknowledge that this is Spenser all over, in its faults as well as in its beauties, that no other could have written it but he, and that he has rarely produced anything finer" (Spenser and his Poetry, Vol. III, pp. 97 and 122) thumb|What man that sees the ever-whirling wheelOf change, the which all mortal things doth sway,But that thereby doth find, and plainly feel,How Mutability in them doth playHer cruel sports, to many men's decay? What man that sees the euer-whirling wheeleOf Change, the which all mortall things doth sway,But that therby doth find, & plainely feele,How MVTABILITY in them doth playHer cruell sports, to many mens decay? What man that sees the ever-whirling wheelOf Change, the which all mortal things doth sway,But that thereby doth find, and plainly feel,How Mutability in them doth playHer cruel sports to many men's decay? Bk. VII, Canto VI, stanza 1 Warres and allarums vnto Nations wide. Wars and alarums unto nations wide. Bk. VII, Canto VI, stanza 3 Good on-set boads good end. Good onset bodes good end. Bk. VII, Canto VI, stanza 23 For, we by Conquest of our soueraine might,And by eternall doome of Fates decree,Haue wonne the Empire of the Heauens bright. For we by conquest of our sovereign might,And by eternal doom of Fates' decree,Have won the empire of the heavens bright. Bk. VII, Canto VI, stanza 33 thumb|So forth issued the seasons of the year.First, lusty Spring, all dight in leaves of flowersThat freshly budded, and new blooms did bear. So, forth issew'd the Seasons of the yeare;First, lusty Spring, all dight in leaues of flowresThat freshly budded and new bloosmes did beare(In which a thousand birds had built their bowresThat sweetly sung, to call forth Paramours):And in his hand a iauelin he did beare,And on his head (as fit for warlike stoures)A guilt engrauen morion he did weare;That as some did him loue, so others did him feare. So forth issued the seasons of the year.First, lusty Spring, all dight in leaves of flowersThat freshly budded and new blooms did bear(In which a thousand birds had built their bowersThat sweetly sung to call forth paramours);And in his hand a javelin he did bear,And on his head (as fit for warlike stoures)A gilt-engraven morion he did wear;That as some did him love, so others did him fear. Bk. VII, Cantos VII, stanza 28 thumb|Then came the jolly Summer, being dightIn a thin silken cassock coloured greenThat was unlined all, to be more light. Then came the iolly Sommer, being dightIn a thin silken cassock coloured greene,That was vnlyned all, to be more light:And on his head a girlond well beseeneHe wore, from which as he had chauffed beenThe sweat did drop; and in his hand he boreA boawe and shaftes, as he in forrest greeneHad hunted late the Libbard or the Bore,And now would bathe his limbes, with labor heated sore. Then came the jolly Summer, being dightIn a thin silken cassock coloured greenThat was unlined all, to be more light,And on his head a garland well beseenHe wore, from which as he had chafed been,The sweat did drop; and in his hand he boreA bow and shafts, as he in forest greenHad hunted late the libbard or the boar,And now would bathe his limbs, with labour heated sore. Bk. VII, Cantos VII, stanza 29 thumb|Then came the Autumn, all in yellow clad. Then came the Autumne all in yellow clad,As though he ioyed in his plentious store,Laden with fruits that made him laugh, full gladThat he had banisht hunger, which to-foreHad by the belly oft him pinched sore.Vpon his head a wreath that was enroldWith eares of corne, of euery sort he bore:And in his hand a sickle he did holde,To reape the ripened fruits the which the earth had yold. Then came the Autumn, all in yellow clad,As though he joyed in his plenteous store,Laden with fruits that made him laugh, full gladThat he had banished hunger, which beforeHad by the belly oft him pinched sore;Upon his head a wreath, that was enrolledWith ears of corn of every sort, he bore,And in his hand a sickle he did hold,To reap the ripened fruits the which the earth had yold. Bk. VII, Cantos VII, stanza 30 thumb|Lastly came Winter, clothed all in frieze,Chattering his teeth for cold that did him chill. Lastly, came Winter cloathed all in frize,Chattering his teeth for cold that did him chill,Whil'st on his hoary beard his breath did freese;And the dull drops that from his purpled billAs from a limbeck did adown distill.In his right hand a tipped staffe he held,With which his feeble steps he stayed still:For, he was faint with cold, and weak with eld;That scarse his loosed limbes he hable was to weld. Lastly came Winter, clothed all in frieze,Chattering his teeth for cold that did him chill,Whilst on his hoary beard his breath did freeze,And the dull drops that from his purpled bill,As from a limbeck, did adown distill;In his right hand a tipped staff he held,With which his feeble steps he stayed still:For he was faint with cold and weak with eld,That scarce his loosed limbs he able was to weld. Bk. VII, Cantos VII, stanza 31 First, sturdy March with brows full sternly bent,And armed strongly, rode vpon a Ram,The same which ouer Hellespontus swam:Yet in his hand a spade he also hent,And in a bag all sorts of seeds ysame,Which on the earth he strowed as he went,And fild her womb with fruitfull hope of nourishment. First, sturdy March, with brows full sternly bentAnd armed strongly, rode upon a ram,The same which over Hellespontus swam;Yet in his hand a spade he also hent,And in a bag all sorts of seeds ysame,Which on the earth he strewed as he went,And filled her womb with fruitful hope of nourishment. Bk. VII, Canto VII, stanza 32 thumb|Then came fair May, the fairest maid on ground,Decked all with dainties of her season's pride,And throwing flowers out of her lap around. Then came faire May, the fayrest mayd on ground,Deckt all with dainties of her seasons pryde,And throwing flowres out of her lap around:Vpon two brethrens shoulders she did ride,The twinnes of Leda; which on eyther sideSupported her like to their soueraine Queene. Then came fair May, the fairest maid on ground,Decked all with dainties of her season's pride,And throwing flowers out of her lap around:Upon two brethren's shoulders she did ride,The Twins of Leda; which on either sideSupported her like to their sovereign queen. Bk. VII, Canto VII, stanza 34 Note: Twins of Leda=Castor and Pollux thumb|Then came hot July, boiling like to fire,That all his garments he had cast away;Upon a lion, raging yet with ire,He boldly rode and made him to obey;Behind his back a scythe, and by his sideUnder his belt he wore a sickle circling wide. Then came hot Iuly boyling like to fire,That all his garments he had cast away:Vpon a Lyon raging yet with ireHe boldly rode and made him to obay:It was the beast that whylome did forrayThe Nemaean forrest, till thAmphytrionideHim slew, and with his hide did him array;Behinde his back a sithe, and by his sideVnder his belt he bore a sickle circling wide. Then came hot July, boiling like to fire,That all his garments he had cast away;Upon a lion, raging yet with ire,He boldly rode and made him to obey;(It was the beast that whilom did forayThe Nemean forest, till the AmphytrionideHim slew, and with his hide did him array.)Behind his back a scythe, and by his sideUnder his belt he wore a sickle circling wide. Bk. VII, Canto VII, stanza 36 Note: Amphytrionide=Hercules (so called from Amphitryon, the husband of Hercules' mother Alcmene) Iolly Iune, arraydAll in greene leaues, as he a Player were. Jolly June, arrayedAll in green leaves, as he a player were. Bk. VII, Canto VII, stanza 35 Next was Nouember, he full grosse and fat,As fed with lard, and that right well might seeme;For, he had been a fatting hogs of late. Next was November; he full gross and fatAs fed with lard, and that right well might seem;For he had been a-fatting hogs of late. Bk. VII, Canto VII, stanza 40 thumb|And after him came next the chill December:Yet he, through merry feasting which he madeAnd great bonfires, did not the cold remember;His Saviour's birth his mind so much did glad. And after him, came next the chill December:Yet he through merry feasting which he made,And great bonfires, did not the cold remember;His Sauiours birth his mind so much did glad:Vpon a shaggy-bearded Goat he rode,The same wherewith Dan Ioue in tender yeares,They say, was nourisht by th'I[d]œan mayd;And in his hand a broad deepe boawle he beares;Of which, he freely drinks an health to all his peeres. And after him came next the chill December:Yet he, through merry feasting which he madeAnd great bonfires, did not the cold remember;His Saviour's birth his mind so much did glad.Upon a shaggy-bearded goat he rode,The same wherewith Dan Jove in tender years,They say, was nourished by the Idaean maid;And in his hand a broad deep bowl he bears,Of which he freely drinks a health to all his peers. Bk. VII, Canto VII, stanza 41 thumb|But thenceforth all shall rest eternallyWith Him that is the God of Sabaoth hight. And after all came Life, and lastly Death;Death with most grim and griesly visage seene,Yet is he nought but parting of the breath;Ne ought to see, but like a shade to weene,Vnbodied, vnsoul'd, vnheard, vnseene. And after all came Life; and lastly Death:Death with most grim and grisly visage seen,Yet is he nought but parting of the breath;Nor aught to see, but like a shade to ween,Unbodied, unsouled, unheard, unseen. Bk. VII, Cantos VII, stanza 46 But Times do change and moue continually. But times do change and move continually. Bk. VII, Canto VII, stanza 47 thumb|O that great Sabaoth God, grant me that Sabaoth's sight! Of that same time when no more Change shall be,But stedfast rest of all things firmely staydVpon the pillours of Eternity,That is contrayr to Mutabilitie:For, all that moueth, doth in Change delight:But thence-forth all shall rest eternallyWith Him that is the God of Sabbaoth hight:O! that great Sabbaoth God, grant me that Sabaoths sight. Of that same time when no more change shall be,But steadfast rest of all things, firmly stayedUpon the pillars of Eternity,That is contrair to Mutability:For all that moveth doth in change delight;But thenceforth all shall rest eternallyWith Him that is the God of Sabaoth hight''':O that great Sabaoth God, grant me that Sabaoth's sight. Bk. VII, Canto VIII, stanza 2 Note: James Nohrnberg observes that Queen Elizabeth's name in Hebrew—which Nohrnberg etymologizes as Eli-sabbath—can mean "Sabbath God" (or "God of rest"), concluding that "It is the finishing of her poem that will grant her poet rest" (The Analogy of "The Faerie Queene" [Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1976], p. 83). Similarly, A. C. Hamilton argues that "[Spenser's] final prayer as an exile in war-ravaged Ireland is for sight of the Queen and the rest which she signifies" ('Our New Poet: Spenser, "well of English undefyld"', in Essential Articles for the Study of Edmund Spenser, ed. A. C. Hamilton [Hamden, Conn.: Archon, 1972], p. 110) Quotations about The Faerie Queene thumb|"Beyond all doubt it is best to have made one's first acquaintance with Spenser in a very large—and, preferably, illustrated—edition of The Faerie Queene, on a wet day, between the ages of twelve and sixteen."—C. S. Lewis. 1941. (arranged in chronological order) 16th century A continued allegory or dark conceit. Edmund Spenser, letter to Walter Raleigh dated 23 January 1589 (i.e., 1590), appended to the 1590 edition of The Faerie Queenethumb|"I know not what more excellent or exquisite poem may be written."—Francis Meres. 1598. As Sextus Propertius said, Nescio quid magis nascitur Iliade: so I say of Spenser's Fairy Queen; I know not what more excellent or exquisite poem may be written. [...] Spenser's Eliza, the Fairy Queen, hath the advantage of all the queens in the world, to be eternized by so divine a poet. Francis Meres, Palladis Tamia (1598) Compare: Nescioquid maius nascitur Iliade. Something greater than the Iliad is born. Sextus Propertius, Elegies, Book II (26–25 BCE), 34.66; of Virgil's Aeneid, as reported and translated in The Oxford Dictionary of Quotations, 5th ed. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999), p. 593 17th century thumb|"Spenser's noble book."—Ben Jonson. 1640. Spenser's noble book. Ben Jonson, Underwoods (1640), p. 116 thumb|"There is no uniformity in the design of Spenser: he aims at the accomplishment of no one action. Had he lived to finish his poem in the six remaining legends, it had certainly been more of a piece; but could not have been perfect, because the model was not true."—John Dryden. 1693. There is no uniformity in the design of Spenser: he aims at the accomplishment of no one action; he raises up a hero for every one of his adventures, and endows each of them with some particular moral virtue, which renders them all equal, without subordination or preference. Every one is valiant in his own legend; only we must do him the justice to observe, that magnanimity, which is the character of Prince Arthur, shines throughout the whole poem, and succours the rest when they are in distress. The original of every knight was then living in the court of Queen Elizabeth; and he attributed to each of them that virtue which he thought was most conspicuous in them; an ingenious piece of flattery, though it turned not much to his account. Had he lived to finish his poem in the six remaining legends, it had certainly been more of a piece; but could not have been perfect, because the model was not true. But Prince Arthur, or his chief patron, Sir Philip Sidney, whom he intended to make happy by the marriage of his Gloriana, dying before him, deprived the poet both of means and spirit to accomplish his design. For the rest, his obsolete language, and ill choice of his stanza, are faults both of the second magnitude; for notwithstanding the first, he is still intelligible, at least after a little practice, and for the last he is more to be admired, that labouring under such a difficulty, his verses are so numerous, so various, and so harmonious, that only Virgil, whom he has professedly imitated, has surpassed him among the Romans, and only Mr. Waller among the English. John Dryden, The Satires (1693), Dedication, p. viii Compare Edmond Malone's commentary: "Sir Philip Sydney, we know, died October 16, 1586; but so far is it from being true that his death deprived Spencer of spirit to complete his work, that it is almost certain much the greater part of it was written between that year and 1595; and it is equally untrue, that on the loss of that patron, he was deprived of those means which would have rendered him independent, and enabled him to devote his hours to literary pursuits [...]. The language of The Fairy Queen was the poetical language of the age in which [Spenser] lived; and, however obsolete it might appear to Dryden, was, I conceive, perfectly intelligible to every reader of poetry in the time of Queen Elizabeth, though The Shepherd's Calender was not even then understood without a commentary" (The Critical and Miscellaneous Prose Works of John Dryden, ed. Edmond Malone, Vol. III [1800], footnotes on pp. 93–94). Malone's latter statement is quoted approvingly by Nathan Drake (in Shakspeare [sic] and His Times [1838], p. 314), but disapprovingly by Thomas R. Lounsbury (in Studies in Chaucer, Vol. III [1892], pp. 64–65) thumb|"Old Spenser next, warmed with poetic rage,In ancient tales amused a barbarous age;But now the mystic tale, that pleased of yore,Can charm an understanding age no more."—Joseph Addison. 1694. Old Spenser next, warmed with poetic rage,In ancient tales amused a barbarous age;An age that, yet uncultivate and rude,Where'er the poet's fancy led, pursued,Through pathless fields and unfrequented floods,To dens of dragons and enchanted woods.But now the mystic tale, that pleased of yore,Can charm an understanding age no more:The long-spun allegories fulsome grow,While the dull moral lies too plain below.We view well-pleased at distance all the sightsOf arms and palfreys, battles, fields, and fights,And damsels in distress, and courteous knights.But when we look too near, the shades decay,And all the pleasing landscape fades away. Joseph Addison, "An Account of the Greatest English Poets" (1694), lines 17–31 Compare Alexander Pope's commentary on these lines: "The character [Addison] gives of Spenser is false [...] and I have heard him say that he never read Spenser till fifteen years after he wrote it" (as reported in Joseph Spence's Observations, Anecdotes, and Characters, of Books and Men [1820], 1728–1730, p. 150). William John Courthope remarks that Pope is "always a suspicious witness where Addison is concerned" (in Courthope's Addison [London: Macmillan, 1884], p. 33) 18th century thumb|"There is something in Spenser that pleases one as strongly in one's old age as it did in one's youth. I read The Faerie Queene when I was about twelve, with infinite delight; and I think it gave me as much when I read it over about a year or two ago."—Alexander Pope. 1740. After reading a canto of Spenser two or three days ago to an old lady, between seventy and eighty years of age, she said that I had been showing her a gallery of pictures.—I don't know how it is, but she said very right: there is something in Spenser that pleases one as strongly in one's old age, as it did in one's youth. I read the Faerie Queene when I was about twelve, with infinite delight; and I think it gave me as much, when I read it over about a year or two ago. Alexander Pope, 1743–1744 (a year before Pope's death), as quoted in Joseph Spence's Anecdotes, Observations, and Characters, of Books and Men, ed. S. W. Singer (1820), pp. 296–297 I don't wonder that you are in such raptures with Spenser! What an imagination! What an invention! What painting! What colouring displayed throughout the works of that admirable author! and yet, for want of time, or opportunity, I have not read his Fairy Queen through in series, or at a heat, as I may call it. Samuel Richardson, letter to Susanna Highmore (22 June 1750), in The Correspondence of Richardson, Vol. II (1804), p. 245 Though the Faerie Queene does not exhibit that economy of plan and exact arrangement of parts which epic severity requires, yet we scarcely regret the loss of these while their place is so amply supplied by something which more powerfully attracts us, as it engages the affection of the heart, rather than the applause of the head; and if there be any poem whose graces please, because they are situated beyond the reach of art, and where the faculties of creative imagination delight us, because they are unassisted and unrestrained by those of deliberate judgment, it is in this of which we are now speaking. To sum up all in a few words; though in the Faerie Queene we are not satisfied as critics, yet we are transported as readers. Thomas Warton, Observations on the Faerie Queene of Spenser (1754), pp. 12–13 thumb|"In every poem there ought to be simplicity and unity; and in the epic poem the unity of the action should never be violated by introducing any ill-joined or heterogeneous parts. This essential rule Spenser seems to me strictly to have followed."—John Upton. 1758. In every poem there ought to be simplicity and unity; and in the epic poem the unity of the action should never be violated by introducing any ill-joined or heterogeneous parts. This essential rule Spenser seems to me strictly to have followed; for what story can well be shorter or more simple than the subject of this poem? A British prince sees in a vision the Fairy Queen, and he falls in love, and goes in search after this unknown fair; and at length finds her. This fable has a beginning, a middle, and an end. The beginning is, the British prince saw in a vision the Fairy Queen, and fell in love with her; the middle, his search after her, with the adventures that he underwent; the end, his finding whom he sought. John Upton, Preface to Spenser's Faerie Queene, Vol. I (1758), p. xx–xxi Spenser, and the same may be said of Ariosto, did not live in an age of planning. His poetry is the careless exuberance of a warm imagination and a strong sensibility. It was his business [in his Faerie Queen] to engage the fancy, and to interest the attention by bold and striking images, in the formation and the disposition of which little labour or art was applied. Thomas Warton, Observations on the Faerie Queen of Spenser, 2nd ed. (1762), Vol. I, p. 15 thumb|"Allegorical poetry, through many gradations, at last received its ultimate consummation in the Fairy Queen."—Thomas Warton. 1762. Allegorical poetry, through many gradations, at last received its ultimate consummation in the Fairy Queen. Thomas Warton, Observations on the Fairy Queen of Spenser, 2nd ed. (1762), Vol. II, p. 112 19th century It is scarcely possible to accompany Spenser's allegorical heroes to the end of their excursions. They want flesh and blood—a want for which nothing can compensate. The personification of abstract ideas furnishes the most brilliant images of poetry; but these meteor forms, which startle and delight us when our senses are flurried by passion, must not be submitted to our cool and deliberate examination. George Ellis, Specimens of the Early English Poets (1801), p. 203 thumb|"Spenser I could have read forever. Too young to trouble myself about the allegory, I considered all the knights and ladies and dragons and giants in their outward and exoteric sense, and God only knows how delighted I was to find myself in such society."—Walter Scott. 1808. But Spenser I could have read forever. Too young to trouble myself about the allegory, I considered all the knights and ladies and dragons and giants in their outward and exoteric sense, and God only knows how delighted I was to find myself in such society. As I had always a wonderful facility in retaining in my memory whatever verses pleased me, the quantity of Spenser's stanzas which I could repeat was really marvellous. Walter Scott, autobiography (26 April 1808), in J. G. Lockhart's Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott, Vol. I (Paris: Galignani, 1837), pp. 20–21 Without being insensible to the defects of the Fairy Queen, I am never weary of reading it. Robert Southey, letter to Walter Savage Landor (11 January 1811), in The Life and Correspondence of Robert Southey, Vol. III (1850), p. 295 thumb|"I have finished The Faerie Queene. I never parted from a long poem with so much regret."—James Mackintosh. 1812. I have finished the 'Faerie Queene.' I never parted from a long poem with so much regret. He is a poet of a most musical ear—of a tender heart—of a peculiarly soft, rich, fertile, and flowery fancy. His verse always flows, with ease and nature, most abundantly and sweetly; his diffusion is not only pardonable, but agreeable. Grandeur and energy are not his characteristic qualities. He seems to me a most genuine poet, and to be justly placed after Shakspeare and Milton, and above all other English poets. James Mackintosh, diary (6 April 1812), in Memoirs, ed. Robert James Mackintosh, Vol. II (London: Edward Moxon, 1835), p. 238 Spenser's poetry is all fairy-land. [...] The poet takes and lays us in the lap of a lovelier nature, by the sound of softer streams, among greener hills and fairer valleys. He paints nature not as we find it, but as we expected to find it, and fulfils the delightful promise of our youth. He waves his wand of enchantment, and at once embodies airy beings, and throws a delicious veil over all actual objects. The two worlds of reality and of fiction are poised on the wings of his imagination. William Hazlitt, Lectures on the English Poets (1818), p. 68 Some people will say [...] that they cannot understand [the Faery Queen] on account of the allegory. They are afraid of the allegory, as if they thought it would bite them: they look at it as a child looks at a painted dragon, and think it will strangle them in its shining folds. This is very idle. If they do not meddle with the allegory, the allegory will not meddle with them. Without minding it at all, the whole is as plain as a pikestaff. William Hazlitt, Lectures on the English Poets (1818), p. 74 You will take especial note of the marvellous independence and true imaginative absence of all particular space or time in the "Faery Queene." It is in the domains neither of history or geography; it is ignorant of all artificial boundary, all material obstacles; it is truly in land of Faery, that is, of mental space. The poet has placed you in a dream, a charmed sleep, and you neither wish, nor have the power, to inquire where you are, or how you got there. Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Course of Lectures, III (3 February 1818), as reported in The Critical Perspective, ed. Harold Bloom, Vol. II (New York: Chelsea House Publishers, 1986), p. 633; first published in Lectures and Notes on Shakspere [sic] and Other English Poets, ed. T. Ashe (London: Bell, 1883), p. 514 thumb|"No young lady of the present generation falls to a new novel of Sir Walter Scott's with keener relish than I did that morning to the Faery Queen."—Robert Southey. 1823. No young lady of the present generation falls to a new novel of Sir Walter Scott's with keener relish than I did that morning to the Faery Queen. Robert Southey, letter (19 January 1823) in The Life and Correspondence of Robert Southey, ed. C. C. Southey, Vol. I (1849), p. 85 thumb|"Of the persons who read the first canto, not one in ten reaches the end of the first book, and not one in a hundred perseveres to the end of the poem. Very few and very weary are those who are in at the death of the Blatant Beast."—Thomas Babington Macaulay. 1831. Even Spenser himself, though assuredly one of the greatest poets that ever lived, could not succeed in the attempt to make allegory interesting. It was in vain that he lavished the riches of his mind on the House of Pride and the House of Temperance. One unpardonable fault, the fault of tediousness, pervades the whole of the Fairy Queen. We become sick of cardinal virtues and deadly sins, and long for the society of plain men and women. Of the persons who read the first Canto, not one in ten reaches the end of the First Book, and not one in a hundred perseveres to the end of the poem. Very few and very weary are those who are in at the death of the Blatant Beast. If the last six books, which are said to have been destroyed in Ireland, had been preserved, we doubt whether any heart less stout than that of a commentator would have held out to the end. Thomas Babington Macaulay, 'Southey's Edition of the Pilgrim's Progress', in The Edinburgh Review, Vol. LIV (1831), p. 452 Note: The Blatant Beast does not die in the poem. C. A. Patrides comments: "Macaulay himself, it is clear, did not persevere to the end." In Figures in a Renaissance Context, eds. Claude J. Summers and Ted-Larry Pebworth (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1989), p. 35. Quoted in Hazel Wilkinson's Edmund Spenser and the Eighteenth-Century Book (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press), Introduction, p. 1 thumb|"The noblest allegorical poem in our own language,—indeed, the noblest allegorical poem in the world."—James Montgomery. 1833. The noblest allegorical poem in our own language,—indeed, the noblest allegorical poem in the world,—is Spenser's "Faerie Queene;" at the same time, it is probable, that if it had not been allegorical at all, it would have been a far more felicitous and attractive work of imagination. James Montgomery, Lectures on Poetry and General Literature (1833), p. 169 No allegorical poem, either previous or succeeding, has approached the Faerie Queen within half the diameter of the earth. John Wilson, "Spenser: No. II: The Fairy Queen", in Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Vol. XXXVI (Edinburgh: William Blackwood, 1834), no. 226 (September 1834), p. 415 thumb|"The Faerie Queen is only half-estimated because few persons take the pains to think out its meaning."—John Ruskin. 1853. The "Faerie Queen," like Dante's "Paradise," is only half estimated, because few persons take the pains to think out its meaning. John Ruskin, The Stones of Venice, Vol. II (1853), p. 326 thumb|"Select rather a June morning, when the brilliant white clouds are sailing slowly through a blue sky, a grassy bank under a tree, looking down a long valley with broken hills in the distance; let mind and body both be at ease, and both disposed to dream, but not to sleep, and when the influences of nature have had their due effect, open, if you please, at the middle of the Legend of Sir Guyon."—Francis James Child. 1855. "Much depends," says Charles Lamb, "upon when and where you read a book. In the five or six impatient minutes before the dinner is quite ready, who would think of taking up the Fairy Queen for a stop-gap?" Select rather a June morning, when the brilliant white clouds are sailing slowly through a blue sky, a grassy bank under a tree, looking down a long valley with broken hills in the distance; let mind and body both be at ease, and both disposed to dream, but not to sleep, and when the influences of nature have had their due effect, open, if you please, at the middle of the Legend of Sir Guyon. Francis James Child, "Memoir of Spenser", in The Poetical Works of Edmund Spenser, Vol. I (Boston: Little, Brown & Co., 1855), p. lviii thumb|"Whoever wishes to be rid of thought and to let the busy anvils of the brain be silent for a time, let him read in the Faery Queene. There is the land of pure heart's ease, where no ache or sorrow of spirit can enter."—James Russell Lowell. 1875. No man can read the "Faery Queen" and be anything but the better for it. Through that rude age, when maids of honor drank beer for breakfast and Hamlet could say a gross thing to Ophelia, he passes serenely abstracted and high, the Don Quixote of poets. Whoever can endure unmixed delight, whoever can tolerate music and painting and poetry all in one, whoever wishes to be rid of thought and to let the busy anvils of the brain be silent for a time, let him read in the "Faery Queen." There is the land of pure heart's ease, where no ache or sorrow of spirit can enter. James Russell Lowell, "Spenser", in The North American Review, Vol. 120 (Boston: James R. Osgood & Co, 1875), No. 247 (April 1875), p. 394 thumb|"The Faerie Queene, if nothing else, is at least a labyrinth of beauty, a forest of old romance in which it is possible to lose oneself more irrecoverably amid the tangled luxury of loveliness than elsewhere in English poetry."—Edward Dowden. 1888. The "Faery Queen," if nothing else, is at least a labyrinth of beauty, a forest of old romance in which it is possible to lose oneself more irrecoverably amid the tangled luxury of loveliness than elsewhere in English poetry. Edward Dowden, Transcripts and Studies (1888), p. 288; quoted in Modern Critical Views: Edmund Spenser, ed. Harold Bloom (New York: Chelsea House, 1986), p. 173 20th century I have at last come to the end of the Faerie Queene: and though I say 'at last,' I almost wish he had lived to write six books more as he hoped to do so much have I enjoyed it. C. S. Lewis, letter to Arthur Greeves (7 March 1916), in Letters of C. S. Lewis, ed. W. H. Lewis (London: Geoffrey Bles, 1966), p. 27 [Mr. John Bailey] related a story of an officer who read the Faerie Queene to his men when they were in a particularly difficult situation. The men did not understand the words, but the poetry had a soothing influence upon them. Nothing better could be said of poetry than that. At a General Meeting of the English Association (25 May 1917), as reported in The Journal of Education, Vol. XLIX (1917), p. 438; quoted in Brian Doyle's English and Englishness (London and New York: Routledge, 1989), p. 28 Who, except scholars, and except the eccentric few who are born with a sympathy for such work, or others who have deliberately studied themselves into the right appreciation, can now read through the whole of The Faerie Queene with delight? T. S. Eliot, 'Charles Whibley' (1931), in Selected Essays: 1917–1932 (New York: Harcourt Brace, 1932), p. 405 I am reading The Faery Queen—with delight. [...] I can't think out what I mean about conception: the idea behind F.Q. How to express a kind of natural transition from state to state. And the air of natural beauty. Virginia Woolf, diary entry on 23 January 1935, in The Diary of Virginia Woolf, Vol. IV: 1931–1935, eds. Anne Olivier Bell and ‎Andrew McNeillie (London: Hogarth Press, 1982), p. 275 thumb|"The things we read about in The Faerie Queene are not like life, but the experience of reading it is like living."—C. S. Lewis. 1936. The things we read about in [The Faerie Queene] are not like life, but the experience of reading it is like living. The clashing antitheses which meet and resolve themselves into higher unities, the lights streaming out from the great allegorical foci to turn into a hundred different colours as they reach the lower levels of complex adventure, the adventures gathering themselves together and revealing their true nature as we draw near the foci, the constant re-appearance of certain basic ideas, which transform themselves without end and yet ever remain the same (eterne in mutability), the unwearied variety and seamless continuity of the whole—all this is Spenser's true likeness to life. C. S. Lewis, The Allegory of Love (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1936), p. 358 Beyond all doubt it is best to have made one's first acquaintance with Spenser in a very large—and, preferably, illustrated—edition of The Faerie Queene, on a wet day, between the ages of twelve and sixteen; [...] those who have had this good fortune [...] will never have lost touch with the poet. His great book will have accompanied them year by year. C. S. Lewis, 'Edmund Spenser', from Fifteen Poets (London: Oxford University Press, 1941); in Studies in Medieval and Renaissance Literature, ed. Walter Hooper (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1966), p. 146; quoted in ‎Roy Maynard's Fierce Wars and Faithful Loves: Edmund Spenser's The Faerie Queene, Book I (Moscow, Idaho: Canon Press, 1999), Introduction, p. 9 It is not, perhaps, absolutely necessary to have a large edition in fact; but it is imperative that you should think of The Faerie Queene as a book suitable for reading in a heavy volume, at a table—a book to which limp leather is insulting—a massy, antique story with a blackletter flavour about it—a book for devout, prolonged, and leisurely perusal. C. S. Lewis, 'Edmund Spenser', from Fifteen Poets (London: Oxford University Press, 1941); in Studies in Medieval and Renaissance Literature, ed. Walter Hooper (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1966), pp. 146–147 The Faery Queen, it is said, has never been read to the end. Virginia Woolf, "The Faery Queen", in The Moment and Other Essays (1947) thumb|"The first essential is, of course, not to read The Faery Queen."—Virginia Woolf. 1947. The first essential is, of course, not to read The Faery Queen. Virginia Woolf, "The Faery Queen", in The Moment and Other Essays (1947); quoted in Reading and Not Reading The Faerie Queene by Catherine Nicholson (Princeton University Press, 2020), p. 1 thumb|"From the time of its publication down to about 1914 it was everyone's poem—the book in which many and many a boy first discovered that he liked poetry; a book which spoke at once, like Homer or Shakespeare or Dickens, to every reader's imagination."—C. S. Lewis. 1954. From the time of its publication down to about 1914 it was everyone's poem—the book in which many and many a boy first discovered that he liked poetry; a book which spoke at once, like Homer or Shakespeare or Dickens, to every reader's imagination. Spenser did not rank as a hard poet like Pindar, Donne, or Browning. How we have lost that approach I do not know. And unfortunately The Faerie Queene suffers even more than most great works from being approached through the medium of commentaries and "literary history." These all demand from us a sophisticated, self-conscious frame of mind. But then, when we have used all these aids, we discover that the poem itself demands exactly the opposite response. Its primary appeal is to the most naïve and innocent tastes: to that level of our consciousness which is divided only by the thinnest veil from the immemorial lights and glooms of the collective Unconscious itself. It demands of us a child's love of marvels and dread of bogies, a boy's thirst for adventures, a young man's passion for physical beauty. If you have lost or cannot re-arouse these attitudes, all the commentaries, all your scholarship about "the Renaissance" or "Platonism" or Elizabeth's Irish policy, will not avail. The poem is a great palace, but the door into it is so low that you must stoop to go in. No prig can be a Spenserian. It is of course much more than a fairy-tale, but unless we can enjoy it as a fairy-tale first of all, we shall not really care for it. C. S. Lewis, Studies in Medieval Literature and Renaissance, "Edmund Spenser, 1552–99" (1954), pp. 132–133; as quoted in The Quotable Lewis, ed. Jerry Root and ‎Wayne Martindale (Wheaton, Illinois: Tyndale House, 2012), pp. 562–563 thumb|"I never meet a man who says that he used to like the Faerie Queene."—C. S. Lewis. 1954. I never meet a man who says that he used to like the Faerie Queene. C. S. Lewis, English Literature in the Sixteenth Century (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1954), p. 393 thumb|"The Faerie Queene is perhaps the most difficult poem in English. Quite how difficult, I am only now beginning to realize after forty years of reading it."—C. S. Lewis. 1967. The Faerie Queene is perhaps the most difficult poem in English. Quite how difficult, I am only now beginning to realize after forty years of reading it. C. S. Lewis, Spenser's Images of Life (1967), ed. Alastair Fowler, Introduction Adverse criticism of the stories in The Faerie Queene is usually based on a false expectation. Both the complaints against "faceless knights" and those against "characters with no insides" come alike from readers who are looking for a novelistic-like interest. But it is quite wrong to approach the poem with this demand; for Spenser never meant to supply it. Occasionally, of course, he makes a very brief approach to the kind of fiction now valued in the novel. [...] We should never concentrate, however, on passages such as these. It is always a great mistake to value a work of one kind for its occasional slight approximations to some other kind which happens to be preferred. If we can't learn to like a work of art for what it is, we had best give it up. There is no point in trying to twist it or force it into a form it was never meant to have. And certainly to read The Faerie Queene as a novel is perverse and unrewarding enough. It is like going to a Mozart opera just for the spoken bits. C. S. Lewis, Spenser's Images of Life (1967), ch. 8, p. 113; as quoted in The Quotable Lewis, ed. Jerry Root and ‎Wayne Martindale (Wheaton, Illinois: Tyndale House, 2012), p. 565 The Faerie Queene never loses a reader it has once gained. [...] Once you have become an inhabitant of its world, being tired of it is like being tired of London, or of life. C. S. Lewis, Spenser's Images of Life (1967), ch. X.2, para. 8, p. 140; quoted in The Quotable Lewis, ed. Jerry Root and ‎Wayne Martindale (Wheaton, Illinois: Tyndale House, 2012), p. 566 The Faerie Queene is not meant to be understood but to be possessed. Albert Charles Hamilton, 'The Faerie Queene', in Critical Approaches to Six Major English Works, ed. R. M. Lumiansky and Herschel Baker (Philadelphia, PA, 1968), 132–166, 161; as quoted in Hazel Wilkinson's Edmund Spenser and the Eighteenth-Century Book (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press), Introduction, p. 2 The Faerie Queene is the most extended and extensive meditation on sex in the history of poetry. Camille Paglia, Sexual Personae (1990), p. 188 There has been and continue to be controversy about the nature and status of to be sex in The Faerie Queene. Most criticism assumes that what Spenser says is what he means. But a poet may not always be master of his own poem, for imagination can overwhelms moral intention. Some of the poetically strongest and most fully realized material in The Faerie Queene is pornographic. Like Blake's Milton, Spenser may be one of the devil's party without knowing it. In a paradox cherished by Sade and Baudelaire, the presence of moral sexual law and taboo intensifies the luxury of evil. A great poet always has profound ambivalences and obscurities whose motivation criticism has scarcely begun to study in this case. The Faerie Queene is didactic but also self-pleasuring. Not despite the complexity of erotic response, Spenser was a sexual psychologist of the first rank, surpassed only by Freud and Shakespeare. His treatment of erotic archetype, and perversion, dream, civilization, fantasy, obsession, and sacrifice lifts The Faerie Queene out of national into world literature. Camille Paglia, in The Spenser Encyclopedia, ed. A. C. Hamilton (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1990), p. 641; quoted in John Lennard's Of Sex and Faerie (Tirril: Humanities-Ebooks LLP, 2010), pp. 119–120 Bibliography The Faerie Queene (1st ed., 1590; 2nd ed., 1596; 3rd ed., 1609) Spenser's Faerie Queene. A New Edition with a Glossary, And Notes explanatory and critical, ed. John Upton, Vols. I–II (London: Printed for J. and R. Tonson, 1758) Spenser and his Poetry, by George Lillie Craik, Vols. I–III (London: Charles Knight & Co., 1845) The Canterbury Tales and Faerie Queene, with other poems of Chaucer and Spenser, edited for popular perusal, with current illustrative and explanatory notes, by D. Laing Purves (Edinburgh: William P. Nimmo, 1874) The Elizabethan Birthday Book (London: Seeley, Jackson & Halliday, 1876) A Complete Dictionary of Poetical Quotations, ed. Sarah Josepha Hale (Philadelphia: E. Claxton & Co., 1881) Familiar Quotations, ed. John Bartlett, 9th ed. (Boston: Little, Brown & Co., 1895) The Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations, ed. Jehiel Keeler Hoyt, a new edition, revised, corrected and enlarged (New York: Funk and Wagnalls, 1896) A Popular Manual of English Literature, by Maude Gillette Phillips, Vol. I (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1897) The Oxford Dictionary of Quotations'', ed. Elizabeth M. Knowles, 5th ed. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999) External links Category:Epic poetry Category:Works about women