No More Learning

To be upbrought in gentle thewes and martiall might.

IV

Unto old Timon he me brought bylive,
Old Timon, who in youthly yeares hath beene
In warlike feates th'expertest man alive, 30
And is the wisest now on earth I weene;
His dwelling is low in a valley greene,
Under the foot of Rauran mossy hore,?
From whence the river Dee? as silver cleene,
His tombling billowes roll with gentle rore: 35
There all my dayes he traind me up in vertuous lore.

V

Thither the great magicien Merlin came,
As was his use, ofttimes to visit me:
For he had charge my discipline to frame,?
And Tutours nouriture to oversee. 40
Him oft and oft I askt in privitie,
Of what loines and what lignage I did spring:
Whose aunswere bad me still assured bee,
That I was sonne and heire unto a king,
As time in her just terme? the truth to light should bring. 45

VI

Well worthy impe, said then the Lady gent,
And pupill fit for such a Tutours hand.
But what adventure, or what high intent
Hath brought you hither into Faery land,
Aread Prince Arthur, crowne of Martiall band? 50
Full hard it is (quoth he) to read aright
The course of heavenly cause, or understand
The secret meaning of th' eternall might,
That rules mens wayes, and rules the thoughts of living wight.

VII

For whether he through fatall deepe foresight 55
Me hither sent, for cause to me unghest,
Or that fresh bleeding wound,? which day and night
Whilome doth rancle in my riven brest,
With forced fury? following his behest,
Me hither brought by wayes yet never found; 60
You to have helpt I hold myself yet blest.
Ah curteous knight (quoth she) what secret wound
Could ever find,?
to grieve the gentlest hart on ground?

VIII

Deare dame (quoth he) you sleeping sparkes awake,?
Which troubled once, into huge flames will grow, 65
Ne ever will their fervent fury slake,
Till living moysture into smoke do flow,
And wasted life do lye in ashes low.
Yet sithens silence lesseneth not my fire,
But told? it flames, and hidden it does glow; 70
I will revele what ye so much desire:
Ah Love, lay down thy bow, the whiles I may respire.

IX

It was in freshest flowre of youthly yeares,
When courage first does creepe in manly chest,
Then first the coale of kindly heat appeares 75
To kindle love in every living brest;
But me had warnd old Timons wise behest,
Those creeping flames by reason to subdew,
Before their rage grew to so great unrest,
As miserable lovers use to rew, 80
Which still wex old in woe, whiles woe still wexeth new.

X

That idle name of love, and lovers life,
As losse of time, and vertues enimy,
I ever scornd, and joyd to stirre up strife,
In middest of their mournfull Tragedy, 85
Ay wont to laugh, when them I heard to cry,
And blow the fire, which them to ashes brent:
Their God himselfe, griev'd at my libertie,
Shot many a dart at me with fiers intent,
But I them warded all with wary government. 90

XI

But all in vaine: no fort can be so strong,
Ne fleshly brest can armed be so sound,
But will at last be wonne with battrie long,
Or unawares at disadvantage found:
Nothing is sure, that growes on earthly ground: 95
And who most trustes in arme of fleshly might,
And boasts in beauties chaine not to be bound,
Doth soonest fall in disaventrous fight,
And yeeldes his caytive neck to victours most despight.

XII

Ensample make? of him your haplesse joy, 100
And of my selfe now mated, as ye see;
Whose prouder vaunt that proud avenging boy
Did soone pluck downe and curbd my libertie.
For on a day, prickt forth with jollitie
Of looser life, and heat of hardiment, 105
Raunging the forest wide on courser free,
The fields, the floods, the heavens with one consent
Did seeme to laugh on me, and favour mine intent.

XIII

For-wearied with my sports, I did alight
From loftie steed, and downe to sleepe me layd; 110
The verdant gras my couch did goodly dight,
And pillow was my helmet faire displayd:
Whiles every sence? the humour sweet embayd,
And slombring soft my hart did steale away,
Me seemed, by my side a royall Mayd 115
Her daintie limbes full softly down did lay:
So faire a creature yet saw never sunny day.

XIV

Most goodly glee and lovely blandishment
She to me made, and bad me love her deare;
For dearely sure her love was to me bent, 120
As when just time expired should appeare.
But whether dreames delude, or true it were,
Was never hart so ravisht with delight,
Ne living man like words did ever heare,
As she to me delivered all that night; 125
And at her parting said, She Queene of Faeries hight.

XV

When I awoke, and found her place devoyd,
And nought but pressed gras, where she had lyen,
I sorrowed all so much as earst I joyd,
And washed all her place with watry eyen.