Which seeing, fayre Belphœbe gan to feare
Least that his wound were inly well not heald,
Or that the wicked steele empoysned were:
Litle shee weend that love he close conceald.
Yet still he wasted, as the snow congeald

When the bright Sunne his beams thereon doth beat:

Yet never he his hart to her reveald;
But rather chose to dye for sorow great
Then with dishonorable termes her to entreat.

She, gracious lady, yet no paines did spare
To doe him ease, or doe him remedy:
Many restoratives of vertues rare,
And costly cordialles she did apply,
To mitigate his stubborne malady:
But that sweet cordiall, which can restore
A love-sick hart, she did to him envy;
To him, and to all th' unworthy world forlore,
She did envy that soveraine salve in secret store.

That daintie rose, the daughter of her morne,
More deare then life she tendered, whose flowre
The girlond of her honour did adorne:

Ne suffred she the middayes scorching powre, –
Ne the sharp northerne wind thereon to showre;
But lapped up her silken leaves most chayre,
Whenso the froward skye began to lowre;
But, soone as calmed was the cristall ayre,
She did it fayre dispred and let to florish fayre.

Eternall God, in his almightie powre,
To make ensample of his heavenly grace,
In Paradize whylome did plant this flowre;
Whence he it fetcht out of her native place,
And did in stocke of earthly flesh enrace,
That mortall men her glory should admyre.
In gentle ladies breste and bounteons race
Of woman-kind it fayrest flowre doth spyre,
And beareth fruit of honour and all chast desyre.

Fayre ympes of beautie, whose bright shining beames
Adorne the world with like to heavenly light,
And to your willes both royalties and reames
Subdew, through conquest of your wondrous might;
With this fayre flowre your goodly girlonds dight
Of chastity and vertue virginall,

That shall embellish more your beautie bright,
And crowne your heades with heavenly coronall,
Such as the angels weare before God's tribunall!

To youre faire selves a fayre ensample frame
Of this faire virgin, this Belphebe fayre;
To whom, in perfect love and spotlesse fame
Of chastitie, none living may compayre:
Ne poysnous envy iustly can empayre
The prayse of her fresh-flowring maydenhead;
Forthy she standeth on the highest stay re
Of th' honorable stage of womanhead,
That ladies all may follow her ensample dead.

In so great prayse of stedfast chastity
Nathlesse she was so courteous and kynde,
Tempred with grace and goodly modesty,
That seemed those two vertues strove to fynd
The higher place in her heroick mynd:
So striving each did other more augment,
And both encreast the prayse of woman-kynde,
And both encreast her beautie excellent:
So all did make in her a perfect complement.

CANTO VI.

The birth of fayre Belphœbe and
Of Amorett is told:

The Gardins of Adonis fraught
With pleasures manifold.

WELL may I weene, faire ladies, all this while
Ye wonder how this noble damozell
So great perfections did in her compile,
Sith that in salvage forests she did dwell,
So farre from court and royall citadell,
The great schoolmaistresse of all courtesy:
Seemeth that such wilde woodes should far expell
All civile usage and gentility,

And gentle sprite deforme with rude rusticity.

But to this faire Belphœbe in her berth
The Hevens so favorable were and free,
Looking with myld aspéct upon the Earth
In th' horoscope of her nativitee,

That all the gifts of grace and chastitee
On her they poured forth of plenteous horne:
Iove laught on Venus from his soverayne see,
And Phoebus with faire beames did her adorne,
And all the Graces rockt her cradle being borne.

Her berth was of the wombe of morning dew,
And her conception of the ioyous prime;
And all her whole creation did her shew
Pure and unspotted from all loathly crime
That is ingenerate in fleshly slime.
So was this virgin borne, so was she bred;
So was she trayned up from time to time
In all chaste vertue and true bountihed,
Till to her dew perfection she were ripened.

Her mother was the faire Chrysogonee,
The daughter of Amphisa, who by race
A Faerie was, yborge of high degree:
She bore Belphabe; she bore in like cace
Fayre Amoretta in the second place:
These two were twinnes, and twixt them two did share
The heritage of all celestiall grace;

That all the rest it seemd they robbed bare
Of bounty, and of beautie, and all vertues rare.

It were a goodly storie to declare
By what straunge accident faire Chrysogone
Conceiv'd these infants, and how them she bare
In this wilde forrest wandring all alone,
After she had nine moneths fulfild and gone:
For not as other wemens commune brood
They were enwombed in the sacred throne
Of her chaste bodie; nor with commune food,
As other wemens babes, they sucked vitall blood:

But wondrously they were begot and bred
Through influence of th' Hevens fruitfull ray,
As it in antique bookes is mentioned.
It was upon a sommers shinie day,
When Titan faire his beamës did display,
In a fresh fountaine, far from all mens vew,
She bath'd her brest the boyling heat t' allay;
She bath'd with roses red and violets blew,
And all the sweetest flowers that in the forrest grew:

Till faint through yrkesome wearines adowne
Upon the grassy ground herselfe she layd
To sleepe, the whiles a gentle slombring swowne
Upon her fell all naked bare displayd:
The sunbeames bright upon her body playd,
Being through former bathing mollifide,
And pierst into her wombe; where they embayd
With so sweet sence and secret powre unspide,
That in her pregnant flesh they shortly fructifide.

Miraculous may seeme to him that reades
So straunge ensample of conception;

But reason teacheth that the fruitfull seades
Of all things living, through impression
Of the sunbeames in movst complexion,
Doe life conceive and quickned are by kynd:
So, after Nilus inundation,

Infinite shapes of creatures men doe fynd
Informed in the mud on which the Sunne hath shynd.

Great father he of generation

Is rightly cald, th' authour of life and light;
And his faire sister for creation

Ministreth matter fit, which, tempred right
With heate and humour, breedes the living wight.
So sprong these twinnes in womb of Chrysogone;
Yet wist she nought thereof, but sore affright
Wondred to see her belly so upblone, [gone.
Which still increast till she her terme had full out-

Whereof conceiving shame and foule disgrace,
Albe her guiltlesse conscience her-cleard,
She fled into the wildernesse a space,
Till that unweeldy burden she had reard,
And shund dishonor which as death she feard:
Where, wearie of long traveill, downe to rest
Herselfe she set, and comfortably cheard;
There a sad cloud of sleepe her overkest,
And seized every sence with sorrow sore opprest.

It fortuned, faire Venus having lost
Her little sonne, the winged god of love,
Who for some light displeasure, which him erost,
Was from her fled as flit as ayery dove,
And left her blissfull bowre of ioy above;
(So from her often he had fled away,
When she for ought him sharpely did reprove,
And wandred in the world in straunge aray,
Disguiz'd in thousand shapes, that none might him
bewray ;)

Him for to seeke, she left her heavenly hous,
The house of goodly formes and faire aspects,
Whence all the world derives the glorious
Features of beautie, and all shapes select,
With which high God his workmanship hath deckt;
And searched everie way through which his wings
Had borne bim, or his tract she mote detect:
She promist kisses sweet, and sweeter things,
Unto the man that of him tydings to her brings.

First she him sought in court, where most he us'd
Whylome to haunt, but there she found him not;
But many there she found which sore accus'd
His falshood, and with fowle infamous blot
His cruell deedes and wicked wyles did spot:
Ladies and lordes she every where mote heare
Complayning, how with his empoysued shot
Their wofull harts he wounded had whyleare,
And so had left them languishingtwixt hope and feare.

Thereat Diana gan to smile, in scorne
Of her vaine playnt, and to her scoffing sayd;
"Great pitty sure that ye be so forlorne
Of your gay sonne, that gives you so good ayd
To your disports; ill mote ye bene apayd!"
But she was more engrieved, and replide;
"Faire sister, ill beseemes it to upbrayd
A dolefull heart with so disdainfull pride;

Up they them tooke, each one a babe uptooke,
And with them carried to be fostered:
Dame Phoebe to a nymphe her babe betooke
To be upbrought in perfect maydenhed,
And, of herselfe, her name Belphœbe red:
But Venus hers thence far away convayd,
To be upbrought in goodly womanhed;

And, in her litle Loves stead which was strayd,

"As you in woods and wanton wildernesse
Your glory sett to chace the salvage beasts;
So my delight is all in ioyfulnesse,

In beds, in bowres, in banckets, and in feasts:
And ill becomes you, with your lofty creasts,
To scorne the ioye that love is glad to seeke:
We both are bownd to follow Heavens beheasts,
And tend our charges with obeisaunce meeke:
Spare, gentle sister, with reproch my paine to eeke;

"And tell me if that ye my sonne have heard
To lurke emongst your nimphes in secret wize,
Or keepe their cabins: much I am affeard
Least he like one of them himselfe disguize,
And turne his arrowes to their exercize:
So may he long himselfe full easie hide;
For he is faire, and fresh in face and guize
As any nimphe; let not it be envide."

So saying every nimph full narrowly shee eide.

But Phoebe therewith sore was angered, [boy,
And sharply saide; "Goe, dame; goe, seeke your
Where you him lately lefte, in Mars his bed:
He comes not here; we scorne his foolish ioy,
Ne lend we leisure to his idle toy:
But, if I catch him in this company,
By Stygian lake I vow, whose sad annoy
The gods doe dread, he dearly shall abye:

Ile clip his wanton wings that he no more shall flye."

Whom whenas Venus saw so sore displeasd,
Shee inly sory was, and gan relent
What shee had said: so her shee soone appeasd
With sugred words and gentle blandishment,
Which as a fountaine from her sweete lips went
And welled goodly forth, that in short space
She was well pleasd, and forth her damzells sent
Through all the woods, to search from place to place
If any tract of him or tidings they mote trace.

To search the god of love her nimphes she sent
Throughout the wandring forest every where:
And after them herselfe eke with her went
To seeke the fugitive both farre and nere.
So long they sought, till they arrived were
In that same shady covert whereas lay
Faire Crysogone in slombry traunce whilere ;
Who in her sleepe (a wondrous thing to say)
Unwares had borne two babes as faire as springing
day.

Unwares she them conceivd, unwares she bore:
She bore withouten paine, that she conceiv'd
Withouten pleasure; ne her need implore
Lucinaes aide: which when they both perceiv'd,
They were through wonder nigh of sence berev'd,
And gazing each on other nought bespake:
At last they both agreed her seeming griev'd
Out of her heavie swowne not to awake,
But from her loving side the tender babes to take.

She brought her to her ioyous paradize
Wher most she wonnes, when she on Earth does dwell,
So faire a place as Nature can devize:
Whether in Paphos, or Cytheron hill,
Or it in Gnidus bee, I wote not well;
But well I wote by triall, that this same
All other pleasaunt places doth excell,
And called is, by her lost lovers name,
The Gardin of Adonis, far renowmd by fame.

In that same gardin all the goodly flowres,
Wherewith dame Nature doth her beautify
And decks the girlonds of her paramoures,
Are fetcht: there is the first seminary

Of all things that are borne to live and dye,
According to their kynds. Long worke it were
Here to account the endlesse progeny

Of all the weeds that bud and blossome there;
But so much as doth need must needs be counted
here.

It sited was in fruitfull soyle of old,
And girt in with two walls on either side;
The one of yron, the other of bright gold,
That none might thorough breake, nor overstride:
And double gates it had which opened wide,
By which both in and out men moten pas;
Th' one faire and fresh, the other old and dride:
Old Genius the porter of them was,

Old Genius, the which a double nature has.

He letteth in, he letteth out to wend
All that to come into the world desire :
A thousand thousand naked babes attend
About him day and night, which doe require
That he with fleshly weeds would them attire:
Such as him list, such as eternall fate
Ordained hath, he clothes with sinfull mire,
And sendeth forth to live in mortall state,
Till they agayn returne backe by the hinder gate.

After that they againe retourned beene,
They in that gardin planted bee agayne,
And grow afresh, as they had never seene
Fleshly corruption nor mortall payne:

Some thousand yeares so doen they there remayne,
And then of him are clad with other hew,
Or sent into the chaungefull world agayne,
Till thether they retourne where first they grew:
So, like a wheele, arownd they ronne from old to new.

Ne needs there gardiner to sett or sow,
To plant or prune; for of their owne accord
All things, as they created were, doe grow,
And yet remember well the mighty word
Which first was spoken by th' Almighty Lord,
That bad them to increase and multiply :
Ne doe they need, with water of the ford
Or of the clouds, to moysten their roots dry;
For in themselves eternall moisture they imply.

Infinite shapes of creatures there are bred,
And uncouth formes, which none yet ever knew:
And every sort is in a sondry bed

Sett by itselfe, and ranckt in comely rew;
Some titt for reasonable sowles t' indew;
Some made for beasts, some made for birds to weare;
And all the fruitfull spawne of fishes hew
In endlesse rancks along enraunged were,
That seemd the ocean could not containe them there.

Daily they grow, and daily forth are sent
Into the world, it to replenish more;
Yet is the stocke not lessened nor spent,
But still remaines in everlasting store

As it at first created was of yore:

For in the wide wombe of the world there lyes,
In hatefull darknes and in deepe horrore,
An huge eternall Chaos, which supplyes
The substaunces of Natures fruitfull progenyes.

All things from thence doe their first being fetch,
And borrow matter whereof they are made;
Which, whenas forme and feature it does ketch,
Becomes a body, and doth then invade
The state of life out of the griesly shade.
That substaunce is eterne, and bideth so;
Ne, when the life decayes and forme does fade,
Doth it consume and into nothing goe,

But chaunged is and often altred to and froe.

The substaunce is not chaungd nor altered,
But th' only forme and outward fashion;
For every substaunce is conditioned

To chaunge her hew, and sondry formes to don,
Meet for her temper and complexion:
For formes are variable, and decay
By course of kinde and by occasion;
And that faire flowre of beautie fades away,
As doth the lilly fresh before the sunny ray.

Great enimy to it, and to' all the rest
That in the Gardin of Adonis springs,
Is wicked Time; who with his scyth addrest
Does mow the flowring herbes and goodly things,
And all their glory to the ground downe flings,
Where they do wither and are fowly mard:
He flyes about, and with his flaggy wings
Beates downe both leaves and buds without regard,
Ne ever pitty may relent his malice hard.

Yet pitty often did the gods relent,
To see so faire thinges mard and spoiled quight:
And their great mother Venus did lament
The losse of her deare brood, her deare delight:
Her hart was pierst with pitty at the sight,
When walking through the gardin them she spyde,
Yet no'te she find redresse for such despight:
For all that lives is subiect to that law:

All things decay in time, and to their end doe draw.

But were it not that Time their troubler is,
All that in this delightfull gardin growes
Should happy bee, and have immortall blis:
For here all plenty and all pleasure flowes;
And sweefe Love gentle fitts emongst them throwes,
Without fell rancor or fond gealosy :
Franckly each paramour his leman knowes;
Each bird his mate; ne any does envy
Their goodly meriment and gay felicity.