FOOTNOTES:
[13] From a MS. note of Malone’s I learn that Ponsonbye had played the same trick in 1596; and even of the 1617 folio Church avers that some copies are made up with sheets of the old 1611.
CONTENTS.
THE FAERIE QVEENE.
| PAGE | ||
| Dedication to Qveen Elizabeth | [2] | |
| BOOK I. | The Legende of the Knight of the Red Crosse, or of Holinesse | [3] |
| BOOK II. | The Legend of Sir Gvyon, or of Temperavnce | [165] |
| BOOK III. | The Legend of Britomartis, or of Chastitie | [342] |
| APPENDIX. | Stanzas omitted in the Second Edition (1596) | [517] |
THE FAERIE
QVEENE.
Disposed into twelue bookes,
Fashioning
XII. Morall vertues.
LONDON
Printed for VVilliam Ponsonbie.
1596.
TO
THE MOST HIGH,
MIGHTIE
And
MAGNIFICENT
EMPRESSE RENOVVMED
FOR PIETIE, VERTVE,
AND ALL GRATIOVS
GOVERNMENT ELIZABETH BY
THE GRACE OF GOD QVEENE
OF ENGLAND FRAVNCE AND
IRELAND AND OF VIRGINIA,
DEFENDOVR OF THE
FAITH, &c. HER MOST
HVMBLE SERVAVNT
EDMVND SPENSER
DOTH IN ALL HVMILITIE
DEDICATE,
PRESENT
AND CONSECRATE THESE
HIS LABOVRS TO LIVE
VVITH THE ETERNITIE
OF HER
FAME.
THE FIRST
BOOKE OF THE
FAERIE QVEENE.
Contayning
THE LEGENDE OF THE
KNIGHT OF THE RED CROSSE,
OR
OF HOLINESSE.
Lo I the man, whose Muse whilome did maske, i
As time her taught[14], in lowly Shepheards weeds,
Am now enforst a far vnfitter taske,
For trumpets sterne to chaunge mine Oaten reeds,
And sing of Knights and Ladies gentle deeds;
Whose prayses hauing slept in silence long,
Me, all too meane, the sacred Muse areeds
To blazon broad emongst[15] her learned throng:
Fierce warres and faithfull loues shall moralize my song.
Helpe then, O[16] holy Virgin chiefe of nine, ii
Thy weaker Nouice to performe thy will,
Lay forth out of thine everlasting scryne
The antique rolles, which there lye hidden still,
Of Faerie knights and fairest Tanaquill,
Whom that most noble Briton Prince so long
Sought through the world, and suffered so much ill,
That I must rue his vndeserued wrong:
O helpe thou my weake wit, and sharpen my dull tong.
And thou most dreaded impe of highest Ioue, iii
Faire Venus sonne, that with thy cruell dart
At that good knight so cunningly didst roue,
That glorious fire it kindled in his hart,
Lay now thy deadly Heben bow apart,
And with thy mother milde come to mine ayde:
Come both, and with you bring triumphant Mart,
In loues and gentle iollities arrayd,
After his murdrous spoiles and bloudy rage allayd.
And with them eke, O Goddesse heauenly bright, iv
Mirrour of grace and Maiestie diuine,
Great Lady of the greatest Isle, whose light
Like Phœbus lampe throughout the world doth shine,
Shed thy faire beames into my[17] feeble eyne,
And raise my thoughts too humble and too vile,
To thinke of that true glorious type of thine,
The argument of mine afflicted stile:
The which to heare, vouchsafe, O dearest dred a-while.