2
The first Booke of
Cant. I.
Of Faerie knights and fayrest Tanaquill,Whom that most noble Briton Prince so longSought 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,Faire Venus sonne, that with thy cruell dartAt that good knight so cunningly didst roue,That glorious fire it kindled in his hart,Lay now thy deadly Heben bowe apart,And with thy mother mylde come to mine ayde:Come both, and with you bring triumphant Mart,In loues and gentle iollities arraid,After his murdrous spoyles and bloudie rage allayd.
And with them eke, O Goddesse heauenly bright,Mirrour of grace and Maiestie diuine,Great Ladie of the greatest Isle, whose lightLike Phœbus lampe throughout the world doth shine,Shed thy faire beames into mine feeble eyne,And raise my thoughtes 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 dread a while.
CANT.
