ATTITUDES TOWARD LOVE IN SPENSER with particular reference

to books three and four of The Faerie '~ueene

a the sis submitted in partial fulfilment of the reouirements for the deŒree of ïiiaster of Arts at 1,IeGill Unfversi ty

by Tilya Gallay Helfield (Mrs. Erie Helfield)

April, 1955 TABLE OF CO.[\; TENTS

Chapter 1. Introduction. 1 Chapter II. Natural Love. 10 Chapter III. Lustful Love. 22 Chapter IV. Lustful Love (continued) • 33 Chapter V. Courtly Love. 44

Chapter VI. lÜ sma ted Love. 62 Chapter VII. Chaste Love. 74 Chapter VIII. Chaste Love (continued). 88 Chapter IX. Platonic Love. 101 Chapter X. Friendshi:9. 109 1

CHAPTER l

INTRODUCTION

It is the purposeof this thesis to examine Edmund Spenser's attitudes toward the concept of 'love' and to observe this concept

especially as it appears in the third and fourth books of ~ Faerie Qpeene. Before turning to these two books, however, it is important to survey the entire poem in the light of this concept and to recognize that Spenser's Faerie Queene is a romantic epic, whose sustaining theme is the search of a noble and virtuous knight for the love of a beautiful laqy, the search of Prince Arthur for the Gloriana of his dream-vision. In the letter of exposition that Spenser wrote to Sir Walter Raleigh explaining the circumstances of the poem, he says that he conceives Arthur "to haue seene in a dream or vision the Faery Queen, with whose excellent beauty rauished, he awakening • • • went to seeke her forth in Faerye land".l The poem, then, the major expression of Spenser's thoughts and conceptions, is a romantic quest, lEdmund Spenser, "A Letter of the Authors • ••", The Poetical Works of Edmund Spenser, ed. J .C. Smith and E. de SélinëëUrt (Oxford, 1942), pp. 407-408. 2

a search for the lovely lady of the hero's dreams. It matters not that in the person of Arthur, Spenser envisioned Leicester in the historical ailegory, Hagnificence in the ethical allegory, and the human soul in the spiritual ailegory. Nor does it matter that in the person of the Faery Queen, Spenser depicted Queen Elizabeth, Glory, and Heavenly Good or Beauty in these respective allegories. The se factors are aIl weIl defined in the poem. They cannot escape observation.

But the one prevailing theme, the one constant undercurrent in the entire poem, is Prince Arthur's quest of his lady love. This great epic poem, which incorporates so much in the way of ethical, moral, religious and political thought, is primarily ~ unconditionaily ! magnificent poem of love, and Prince Arthur, first and foremost, is the tender lover searching for bis elusive mistress. He is the embodiment of the romantic lover, and his entire guest is ~ exposition of the romantic love theme. In tbis thesis, particular emphasis will be placed on the third and fourth books, which, it may be argued, are the most important and pivotaI books in the entire poem. The third and fourth books of The Faerie -Queene are the focal point, the place where ail the main events converge. l cannot agree with those critics who maintain that, as the poem progressed, Spenser lost sight of his original plan as outlined in his letter to

Raleigh. The action of books three and four of necessity takes on a different character fram that of the first two, and if the action 3

does become freer and less intensively co-ordinated than that in the latter, then this change can be ascribed only to Spenser's great genius in refusing to allow a format of a poem to dominate or curtail

his volatile imaginative powers. As Padelford states so conclusively:

"Spenser is always the master of his material. The(third)book is

compact, harmonious, and holds closely to the central theme •••• Spenser is always the artist.,,2

AlI the main threads of action are caught up and woven into the material of the third and fourth books. Characters who were

introduced in the first and second books reappear in them. The action

in these is not completed therein, but goes on throughout book five.

Britomart appears beyond the confines of her own representative book, as do the Red-Crosse Knight, Archimago and Satyrane. But no matter

how diverse the action seems to be, all the various strands of epiàodes

either emanate from, or converge on, the stor,y of the third and fourth books.

Thus the importance of these books lies not only in their central positions as the third and fourth of seven, but in their position as the focal point of many of the adventures throughout the entire poem.

2Padelford, The Variorum Edition of Spenser, III, 328. 4

Books three and four deal exclusively with the emotion of

love, and the romantic action of the entire poem is crystallized and magnified in these volumes. Were Spenser's English Poet extant, it is very probable that the opinions expressed there would have coincided with those of Sir Philip Sidney in An Apolcgie for Poetrie. The only knowledge

WB have of Spenser' S "lOrk is E.K.' s reference to it in the October Eclogue.3 It is certain that Spenser had read the Apologie. The wording of E.K.'s gloss on the subject of divine inspiration in poetry is almost identical to that of Sidney. E.K. says that poetry is rather no arte, but a diuine gift and heauenly instinct not to bee gotten by laboure and learning, but adorned with both: and poured into the witte by a certaine h6ov6(46)1)'s and celestial inspiration, as the Author hereof els where at large discourseth, in his booke called the English Poet.4 On the sarne subject, Sidney, in his Apologie would rather giue right honour to the heauenly Maker of that maker, who, hauing made man to his owne likeness, set him beyond and ouer all the workes of that second nature, which in nothing hee sheweth so much as in Poetrie, when with the force of a diuine breath he bringeth things forth5.

nA Poet no industrie can make, if his owne Genius bee not carried

vnto it; and therefore is it an old Prouerbe, Orator fit, Poeta nascitur.,,6

3Spenser, "The Shepheardes Calender", pp. 456-458. 4 Spenser, p. 456. 5 Philip Sidney, !Q Apologie for Poetrie, ed. J. Churton Collins (Oxford, 1950), p. 9. 6 Sidney, p. 50. 5

It ls certaln that Spenser believed, as dld ~idney, that IIthe endlnl:: end of aIl earthly learnlng ••• ls vertu­

OUS actlonll7 and that poetry was wrltten IIto lead and draw vs to as hlgh a perfectlon as our àegenerate soules, made worse by theyr clayey lodgin;;ss, can be capable of".S The best me- thod by which poetry can exclte men to virtue was, accordlng to Sidney, a "repre sentlng, counterfettlng, or figurlng foorth: to speake metaphorlcally, a speaklng picture: wlth thls end, to teach and dell>l:ht" 9 ~ . Thls poetry conslders only the ldeal, IIthe dlulne

ll lO conslderation of what may be, or should be • Poetry, to Sld- ney, "is that faynlng notable images of vertues, vices, or what els, with that dellghtful teaching, whlch must be the rlght àescrlblng note to know a Poet by".ll It ls certaln that Spenser agreed, for he seems to adhere to all Sldney 1 s ·.i cl ea \ S ' of wha t a poet ought to be. The entire Faerle Queene is a collection of 'speakln€ plctures' portraylng both evil and virtue, showin.S thlne: s not only as they are, but as they ought to be.

Spenser personlfles the concept of ~rror in the person of a fouI and loathly monster who ls flnally overcome by the Red-Crosse Knisht. The horrlfylng plcture whlch he palnts of this epitome of evll is quite sufflcient to move any man ta a hatred of vlce and to an avoldance of lt in his awn behavlour, but

7 ;:ldney , D. 13. SSldney, p. 13. f8;dney, p. 10. wldney, -9. Il. 1131dney, ~. 12. 6

Spenser can speak just as strongly and with as much moving force in his 'speaking pictures' of virtue. Spenser's picture of Charissa in the House of

Holiness is one of a truely noble and virtuous woman. She is happily

married to "a louely fere" and has a multitude of beautiful children.

She was a woman in her freshest age, Of wondrous beauty, and of bountie rare, vlith goodly grace and comely personage, That was on earth not easie to compare. (1. x. 30).

She is full of love but despised lustful passion. Arrayed in her yellow

robes, her breasts bared to her nursing babies, she is a picture of

healthy and fruitful goodness.

In our examination of the attitudes toward love exhibited in the

poem, we will discover that each of these attitudes and their different

and various aspects are shown by means of 'speaking pictures' and that each of theepisodes is geared to arouse either admiration or disgust in the reader, so that he will seek to imitate or shun the actions in real life that are portrayed in the poem.

Spenser includes in The Faerie Çueene every imaginable attitude toward love. He studies the effect that love has on the various people involved in the relationship and determines how differently love is manifested in different persons. He states this intention very clearly in the poem:

vIonder it is to see, in diuerse minds, How diuersly loue doth his pageants play, 7

And shewes his powre in variable kinds: The baser rit, whose idle thought6alway Are wont to cleaue unto the lowly clay, It stirreth vp to sensuall desire, And in lewd slouth to wast his carelesse day: But in braue sprite it kindles good~ fire, That to all high desert and honour doth aspire. (111. v. i.).

It is characteristic of Spenser that to hirn the evil result of a lustful love is the slothfulness and inaction which falls upon the lover. Spenser disapproved of inertia as opposed to heroic feats of arms, and his most condemning aspersion cast on the Bower of Bliss is that Verdant enjoyed the wiles and blandishments of Acrasia while His warlike armes, the idle instruments Of sleeping praise, were hong vpon a tree. (11. xii. 80). Love among noble people, however, had the opposite effect:

Ne suffereth it vncome~ idlenesse, In bis free thought to build her sluggish nest: Ne suffereth it thought of vngentlenesse, Euer to creepe into his noble brest, But to the highest and the worthiest Lifteth it vp, that else would lowly fall. (111. v. 2). This type of love inspires rather than discourages noble feats of arms and heroic deeds. Britomart and Arthur engage in ail kinds of knight~ adventures during the search for their loves. Arthur and Guyon "long wayes and perilous paines endured" as they trauelled through wastefull wayes, Where daungers dwelt, and perils most did wonne, To hunt for glorie and renow.med praise; Full many Countries they did ouerronne, From the vprising to the setting Sunne, And many bard aduentures did atehieue; Of aIl the which they honour euer wonne, Seeking the weake oppressed to relieue, And to recouer right for sueh, as wrong did grieue. (111. i. 3). 8

Both Britoma.rt and Arthur typify this type of noble lover, and are both chaste. By the term 'chastity', Spenser does not mean

asc etlcism. To him, a chaste lover is one who loves nobly, and who se

love inspires him to heroic feats of arms. The chaste lover woos his

lady and has as his abject ma.trimony and a fruitful progeny. In the concept of 'love', Spenser has included, besides those

concepts of 'lust' and 'chastity', those of 'friendship' and 'natural love'. 'Natural love' is the love of blood relatives, mother for child, sister for brother. By the word 'friendship', as will be seen in chapter ten of this thesis, Spenser meant a meeting of kindred minds, a spiritual communion between two people who must be equal in every respect and motivated only by the most absolute virtue. This type of 'friendship' is, to Spenser's mind, the highest form of love. 'Lust', of course, signifies inOl:dlmte passion to the exclusion of every other manifestation of love. Each of the characters engaged in the episodes of the third and fourth books typifies in varying degrees one of these kinds of lovers, or sorne attitude toward love. Some are entirely lustful or entirely chaste. others are not as obviously black or white, but represent characters which are not as easy to classify. 'l'he representatives of true chaste and noble love are Britomart

and Prince Arthur. In another sense, or perhaps with other connotations to their qualities of cbastity are Belphebe, Amoret and Florimel.

The obvious characters typifying lustful love are Argante and her twin Ollyphant, the monster Lust, Busirane, the witch's son, 9

Braggadocchio, the fisherman, Proteus, the forester, and the False

Florimel. Marinell, Scudamore and Timmias are aIl chaste lovers, but they at times behaved in a manner of which Spenser obviously disapproved.

The Squire of Dames, Paridell, Malecasta, Malbecco and Hellenore, although condemned strongly by Spenser, retain sorne little vestige of goodness which saves them from the brand of incorrigible lustful lovers. Although each of them acts reprehensibly on many occasions, each is saved from utter condemnation either by a charming and harmless personality, as in the :case of the Squire of Dames, or by a psychological explanation offered by Spenser as in the case of Malbecco and Hellenore. Each of the characters in books three and four exhibits, through actions which Spenser describes by means of 'speaking piat.ures', tendencies which enable the reader to classify him as representing a certain type of love. This thesis will take advantage of this ver,y fact. It will first portray 'natural love', and after that, five attitudes toward sensual love. It will conClude with achapter on friendship which Spenser considered the highest form of love. 10

CHAPTER II

NATURAL LOVE

The emotion of 'natural love' was he Id in the highest esteem by Spenser. In his many examples of the tender feelings between parent and child, he acknowledges the strong bond that is perhaps the first emotion most people experience. But Spenser is at the sarne time entirely realistic in his appreciation of the sentiments of men.

He admires ttthe deare affection vnto kindred sweetlt but says emphatically that naturall affection soone doth cesse, And quenched is with Cupids greater flame. (IV. ix. 2). The "raging fire of loue to woman kind" supersedes natural affection in the hearts of lovers. Sorne of the most beautifully tender lines Spenser ever wrote touched on a mother's love for her child. His tenderness and pitY flowed unceasingly for helpless women and babes. He was one of the few poets who could capture realistically the tender passion of a mother for her child. His delightful picture of the mother as she snatches her son from the Dragon the Red-Crosse Knight has just killed, is poignant and touchingly humane. il

Halfe dead through feare, her litle babe reuyld, And to her gossips gan in counsell say; How can l tell, but that his talants may Yet scratch my sonne, or rend his tender hand? (1. xii. Il). Even Sir Guyon, the manly knight, exhibits Spenser's tenderness toward babes when

~e litle babe vp in his armes he hent; Who with sweet pleasance and bold blandishment Gan amyle on them. (Il. ii. 1). Spenser, on many occasions, allows his tenderness and pitY to interfere with the moral allegor,y of his tale, an occ~ which we never find in ~ülton. The Red-Crosse Knight cornes upon the Monster Error in her den, and is set upon by a spawne of serpents small, Deformed monsters, fowle, and blacke as inke, (1. i. 22). a truly loathsome picture. Yet, in his tenderness for aIl little creatures, Spenser for the moment forgets himself, to tell us that But with his clownish hands their tender wings He brusheth oft. (1. i. 23). The most beautiful picture given us by Spenser of a mother's love for the child she bears, is the metaphor he uses to describe Britomart's joy on hearing the Red-Crosse Knightts praise of her lover Ar,tegal:

The louing mother, that nine monethes did beare, In the deare closet of her painefull side, Her tender babe, it seeing safe appeare, Doth not 50 much reioyce, as she reioyced theare. (111. ii. Il).

Agape~love for her three sons is a beautiful and tender emotion. She notices the warlike tendencies of her maturing children and 12

gan to dout Their safetie, least by searching daungers new, And rash prouoking perils aIl about, Their days mote be abridged through their corage stout. (IV. ii. 46). She longs to learn their destiny and goes to see the three Fates, Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos. They show her thet her sons are destined to live ver,y short lives. She begs them to weave their thread~ of life more stoutly and to add to their length, but she is told that divine will is unalterable. At last in her anxiety for her sons, she induces the Fates to grant that the soul of the first killed would pass to the second son, and that those two souls, on the death of the next boy, would pass to the third, giving the youngest son a triply- strengthened life. Satisfied and relieved at last, she "departed thence with full contented mynd" (IV. ii. 53), and at every opp ort unitY She warned them to tend their safeties weIl, And loue each other deare, what euer them befell. (IV. ii. 53). Venus, toc displays natural mother love in her anxious search for her son Cupid who bas wandered away. She calls out to him entreatingly io return, and

She promist kisses -eweet, and s~"eeter things Vnto the man, that of him tydings to her brings. (111. vi. 12).

She seeks him in court, in the Cities, in the country, and throughout aIl these places, she listens to the people therein complaining of the harm and misery her son bas caused. But she, like a true doting mother, can believe no ill of her son:

She sweetly heard complaine, both how and what Her sonne had to them doen; yet she did smile thereat. (111. vi. 15); J3

When she fails to find Cupid anywhere aIse, she decides to search the forest. She meets Diana who asks what leads her from her sweet bower to the savage woods. To whom halfe weeping, she thus answered, That she her dearest sonne Cupido sought, Who in his frowardnesse from her was fled. (Ill. vi. 20).

When Diana soorns Cupid's habits, swearing that she'll ~clip bis wanton wings, that he no more shall fly" (Ill. vi. 24), Venus begs her not to tease "a dolefull heart". Agape's three sons displaya different type of 'natural love'. Rere we have the most noble example of love between brothers: These three did loue each other dearely weIl, And with so firme affection were allyde, As if but one soule in themall did dwell, Which did her powre into three parts diuyde. (IV. ii. 43). They loved each other steadfastly during aIl their dayes, And neuer discord did amongst them fall. (IV. ii. 54). In order to strengthen and increase their natural love for one another, and so that the love of a woman would not replace or curtail their brotherly love, "in loue of Cana cee they ioyned aIl" (IV. ii. 54), and they each fought Cambell for her in the tournament. The two brothers of the vile forester who attacked Florimel are dreadful examples of the defect of 'natural love'. Spenser tells us that

they were three Vngratious children of one gracelesse sire. (lll. v. 15). 14

They are quickly stirred to anger against the noble Tirnias and go to avenge the wrong done their brother. This is a faulty action according to Spenser's views, since the forester behaved reprehensibly in the first place, and Timias was entirely within his rights in punishing him. The three brothers in this case are lustful villains and illustrate a lack of 'natural love'. The witch's love for her slothful son is an example of evil or misplaced natural love. The affection she feels for him is 50 misplaced because he is unworthy of such a noble emotion. He is a wicked sonne, A laesie loord, for nothing good to donne. (Ill. vii. 12). Spenser believed that not only did lewd and lustful love create laziness and sloth, but that a lazy man was given to lust. He therefore decried both attributes as being undesirable. But however loathesome and unworthy this churl was, to his mother he was "a comfort of her age and weary dayes" (Ill. vii. 12). He is at first filled with awe and reverence for Florimel, but soon he conceiu'd affection bace, And cast to loue her in his brutish mind. No loue, but brutish lust. (111. vii. 15). When Florimel flees from the witch's hut, the churl laments frenziedly, and carries on so That his sad mother seeing his sore plight, Was greatly woe begon, and gan to feare, Least his fraile senses were emperisht quight, And loue to frenzy turnd. (111. vii. 20). 15

In desperation and pitY for her dear son

Al1 wayes she sought, him to restore to plight, With herbs, with charms, with counse11, and with teares. (111. vii. 21).

Al1 was in vain. Her son would not be comforted. She tries again, and this time turns to her magic arts. She ca11s forth a hideous :beast who feeds on woman' s f1esh and orders it to bring F1orime1 back to her or devour her entirely. Sorne time 1ater, the beast returns with F1orime1's girdle which the chur1 instantly recognizes as a token that F10rime1 is dead. \oJïth thought whereof, exceeding mad he grew, And in his rage his mother would haue slaine. (il1. viii. 4). l~tricide is always a terrible prospect; in this instance, the attempt is even more horrible because of the great love, however misplaced, that' the witch bears her son and the evil return that she receives for it. At last, in desperation, she creates the False Florime1, and brings her son sorne measure of happiness, short-lived as it is destined to be. These two, the witch and her son, are incapable of enjoying a truly noble natural relationship. The witch is a crafty individua1, a "wicked woman", who finds her sole de1ight in doing mis chief to others. Her son is as wicked as she, 1azy slothful, lewd and dishonest. It is plain that if the parts are corrupt and rotten, their combinat ion will not be improved. The relationship between the twin sisters Amoret and Belphebe is a st range one. The two women, just after their birth, were separated. Am~ ret was taken by Venus to be n.urtured in the Garden 16

of Adonis. Belphebe was taken by Diana to live the life of a virgin huntress. The sisters knew nothing of each otherts existence and their first meeting is a very unfortunate one.

Amoret has just escaped from the monster Lust. Belphebe pursues the vile beast, leaving Timmias to succour her wounded sister.

She returns from her chase to the place where she left her lover and her sister, and sees Ti~ias kiss Amoret. vfuich when she saw, with sodaine glauncing eye, Her noble heart with sight thereof \'1as fild ~Vith deep disdaine, and great indignity. That in her wrath she thought them both haue thrild, ~Vith that selfe arrow, which the Carle had kild; (lV. vii. 36).

In grief and envious rage she cries "is this the faith"? and turns from them in flight. Ti~ias is at once remorseful, but the damage is done, for whèn he tries to fol101..J' her,

He durst not nigh approch, but kept aloofe, For dread of her displeasures vtmost proofe. (lV. vii. 37).

He fears her threatening arrows which force him to retreat dishonourably.

The thought of jealousy between sisters is a sad one. Uncontrolled rage and envy almost cause Belphebe to kill her own sister. The fa ct that the two women did not know eaoh other makes the episode none the less blameworthy. Certainly, tnatural lovet between Belphebe and Amoret is lacking. Bùt in view of the characters of the two sisters, it is highly probable that had Belphebe been aware of the identity of

Amoret, the entire unpleasantness would . ~.-t ?,~ 81 never have occurred.

l'-ne most notable example of the excess of tnatural lovet 17

occurs in the relationship between l{arjnell and his mother. ~ifhen

~arinell lies mortally wounded on the shore, a victim of Britomartts furious onslaught, ne'\iS of his plight reaches his mother. She had feared for his safety because of his many battles and because of this,

she oft him counseld to forbeare The bloudie battell. (111. iVe 24). Her love for her son was so great, that she consulted Proteus about his destiny and received the answer that she must keep him away from

1'10men, for he would be killed or wotinded by a virgin. Frightened for his safety, she warned him every day against the love of women.

Spenser feels that this is

A lesson too too hard for li~ng clay, From loue in course of nature to refraine. (111. iVe 26).

Nevertheless, ~arinell listened to his motherts entreaties and shunned all womankind; "he was loues enimy" (Ill. iVe 26).

Spenser clearly does not approve of his abstention. He asks,

But ah, who can deceiue his destiny, Or '\ieene by warning to auoyd his fate? (111. iVe 27).

Spenser feels that no one can discover his future fate, and even were he able to do 50, no one could discover a means of changing it.

The irony of the situation is Cymoentts misinterpretation of the prophecy:

His mother bad him womens loue to hate, For she of womans force did feare no harme. (Il. iVe 27).

She thought that l>farinell' s undoing would result from a love affair, litt le deeming that a martial maid would overcome him in battle. 18

This overprotectiveness, therefore, which Cymoent exercises over Earinell is in excess of true 'natural love'. It is true that she acts in the same manner as Agape in tr.ying to learn the fate of her son. It is also true that, in the same manner, she attempts to divert fate and ensure the safety of her child. It is not this attempt to discover divine secrets and circurnvent heavenly decrees that Spenser dislikes, but Cymoentts method of diverting fate. The fact that she has misinterpreted the prophecy is unfortunate. But the fact that she has taken from ~ noble ~ the right to noble and virtuous love is vlhat the poet mean~ to condemn. Spenser's disapproval of ~~rinellts action is made rnanifest by the fact that the errant knight of chaste love is able to conquer him completely. Cymoentts love for her son is genuine and well-intended. She honestly ~dshes to protect him from what she has reason to believe ~dll harm him. Spenser has actually anticipated modern psychologists in his delineation of over-protective mother love. It is obvious that he felt, as we do today, that excessive mother love, however well-meant, is harmful in every respect.

There are many examples in this episode of the loving care and solicitude vr.ith which Cymoent cared for her son, and examples of the fear and servitude which her excessive love produced in her son. She carries him down to her watery bower and tries every means in her pO~ler to heal him of his \vounds:

And manysàlues did to his sore applie, And many herbes did vse. (lV. xi. 6). 19

It was aIl in vain. At last, in desperation, she appeals to Tryphon, who soon heals Marinell, "and him restor'd to healthfull state againeft (IV. xi. 7). For a long time he remains There with the Nymph his mother, like her thrall; Who sore against his will did him retaine, For feare of perill, which to him mote fall, Through his too ventrous prowesse proued ouer aIl. (IV. xi. 7). This incident illustrates further Spenser's disapproval of the attempt to hinder a noble man from heroic feats of arms, no matter what the dangers that he might encounter, and his description of ~hrinell, "like her thrall", iilustrates exactly what he thought of Cymoent' s over-protectiveness. A feast is held to celebrate the marriage of the Thames and the Medway in Proteus' palace where Florimel is captive. Cymoent attends the feast but Marinell is not allowed in since he is half mortal. He wanders about the courtyard of the palace and hears Florimel's voice raised in piteous lament. He fails in love with her, and when the feast is ended, can hardly bear to leave her, rryet durst he not his mother disobay" (IV. xii. 18).

He falls into such wretched love melancholy that his mother is alarmed for his health. Her herbs and medicines fail to restore his drooping spirits. She again goes to Tryphon to ask help for her son. Tryphon tells her that it was sorne other maladie, Or griefe vnknowne, which he could not discerne. (IV. xii. 24). Cymoent is now terrified: 20

'rhen ,san her heart to faint, and quake, and earne, And inly troubled was, the truth to learne. (IV. xii. 24) tihe bess i·larinell to tell her what the trouble is, but he lives in su ch fear of her demands that he cannot find couraSe enough to tell her that he is in love. Eecause of her love for him she beseeches Apollo to visit her son. The leech assures her that her son is afflicted with love melancholy. Cymoent is furious at the news:

She gan thereat to fret, and greatly ~rieue, And comming to her sonne, gan first to scold, And chyde at him, that made her misbelieue. (IV. xii. 26) Her love was of such a possessive nature that she could not endure Marinell's keeping from her even his ffiost private thou.ghts. At last, moved by his misery, she entreats him to twll her which of the nymphs he loves, believin~ that it ls one of her nymphs who has caught his fancy. Spenser has here seen into the very heart of t~e Dossessive mother and has set forth every hope which a woman so afflicted would have. She hates the idea of a strange woman usurpi:ng the affections of her son. She finally concedes, thinking that the girl is someone she knows and likes, a nymph whom she need not fear, for the prophecy had stated that a mortal woman would overthrow !'iarinell. Like a truly possessive mother, in a vain attemnt to rewin her son's love, she promises that he shall have the woman he wants. As soon as she lea,rns that 1 t ls Florimel he loves, "she gan a fresh to chafe, and grieue in euery vaine" (IV. xi i. 27). However, Cyrnoent truly loves her son, and on seeing his 21

misery at her outburst, she begins to devise a method of freeing Florimel. She goes to King Neptune himself and pleads for Florimelts release. This is granted, and when Cymoent goes to fetch her from her prison, with a typically feminine reversaI of opinion, she Admyrtd her beautie much, as she mote weIl: For she aIl liuing creatures did excell; And was right ioyous, that she gotten had So faire a "rife for her sonne Marinell. (IV. xii. 33). At last the lovers are united in marriage, and one has good reason to suspect that Cymoent learned her lesson weIl and proved to be a pleasant and agreeable mother-in-law. Spenser clearly shows in his many episodes concerning the emotion of tnatural lovet that just as it is necessary that only noble men and women participate in true love and noble friendship, so it is impossible that any but noble people enjoy a truly fine natural relationship. Spenser holds the same creed no matter what the love relationship; for an ignoble person, this is impossible. The emotion of 'natural lovet is a beautiful one. Spenser's tenderness and loving eulogy of mothers and babes bear ample testimony to the fact that this type of love was held in the highest esteem by the poet. A"nd just as it was very probably the first emotion known to man, so it is the first of several different types of love to be treated in this thesis. The next seven chapters will deal with an ascending scale of the various emotions of sensual love. 22

CHAPTER III

LUSTFUL LOVE

The lowest of aIl forms of love, according to Spenser, is

that of ûnmitigated passio~, or 'lust'. The gross striving for phyeical gratification is abhorrent to Spenser, although the poet had reasons additional to the usual ones for hating the sin. To Spenser, the evil result of lustful love is the laziness and inaction which falls upon the lover. While noble love inspires men to heroic and virtuous deeds, lewd lust leads to a life of drowsy and parasitic inactivity. For loue does alwayes bring forth bounteous deeds, And in each gentle hart desire of honour breeds. (111. i. 49). Of lust, Spenser says, "such loue is hate, and such desire shame" (111. i. 50), for in a lewd mind,

It stirreth vp to sensuall desire, And in lewd slouth to wast his carelesse day. (111. v. 1).

The slothfulness of a lewd and base person is evident in the character of the witch's son, who is A laesie loord, for nothing good to donne, But stretched forth in idlenesse alwayes, Ne euer cast his mind to couet prayse, Or ply him selfe to any honest trade, But aIl the day before the sunny rayes He vs'd to slug, or sleepe in slothfull shade: (111. vii. 12). He is greatly awed by the appearance of the fair Florimel and is moved 23

by her kind and courteéus usage of him to an affection bace, And cast to loue her in bis brutish mind; No loue, but brutish lust, that was 50 beastly tind. (111. vii. 15). Although he is consumed with desire for her, the cowardly churl cannot summon the courage to tell her of his love. He brings her flowers and pretty birds as tokens of his passion, but Florimel senses his feelings and Ilees from the cottage. When he discovers her flight, the churl is almost beside himself with grief. But such is the nature of his ignoble love, that when he is presented with the False Florimel, he gan streight vpstart, and thought She was the Lady se11e, whom he so long had sought. (111. viii. 9). He clasps her joyfullY in his arms, unable, because of bis churlish nature, to distinguish her from the woman he loves, "and soone forgot his former sick!y paine" ~ (111. viii. 10). Venus, depicted in the arras on the walls of the Castle Joyous, almost epitomizesthe sensual sloth of the lewd lover. In beautiful onomatopoeic rhythm, Spenser tells us how she woos Adonis, Now leading him into a secret shade From his Beauperes, and from bright heauens vew, Where him to sleepe she gently would pe~swade, Or bathe him in a fountaine by some couert glade. (111. i. 35). While he sleeps, she covers him with her mantle, places her arm as a pillow beneath his head and "with ambrosiall kisses bathe[s] his eyesft (111. i. 36). The sweet langour of her movements is clearly shown in the enticing rhythm of the lines as they move almost listlessly in their exotic sensuality. Venus commits a grievous error in her slothful absorption with love. She fears for Ador~s' safety as he hunts through the fore st , and She oft and oft aduiz'd him to refraine From ehase of greater beasts, whose brutish pryde Mote breede him seath vnwares: (Ill. i. 37). In order to keep him safe, she tries to win him from the hunt, from deeds of valour and heroie enterprise. Spenser disapproves. In his

Calvinistie fatalism he asks, "who can shun the ehaunee, that dest 'ny doth ordaine?" (lll. i. 37).

In the Castle Joyous itself, there are many signs of the slothful tendencies to which lustful lovers are drawn. The manly knights spend a great deal of time in a ehamber in whieh many beds are plaeed, "sorne for vntimely ease, sorne for delight" (Ill. i. 39). Instead of pursuing noble and heroie deeds, these men spend their time Dauneing and reueling both day and night, And swimming deepe in sensuall desires, And Cupid still emongst them kindled lustfull fires. (lll. i. 39).

In the innermost raom, Maleeasta, the Lady of Delight, lies reclining on a sumptuous bed. She brings the Red-Crosse Knight and

Britomart ta a bower ta be disarmed. The knight soon does 50, but the heroie maid refuses, remembering her knightly duties. This is not the first time that the Red-Crosse Knight is indueed to remove his armour, and sinee the first sueh incident aeeurred ~Qth disastrous results, one would have supposed him to have learned his lesson. After a sumptuous feast, ~~lecasta again implores Britomart to remove her armour, illustrating the desire of lustful love to engender sloth by diseouraging heroie feats of arms, of whieh the Knights' armour is a symbole 25

The knights and ladies spend the evéning in play unfitting to virtuous and noble men and women: Sorne fell to daunce, sorne fell to hazardry, Sorne tp make loue, some to make meriment. (lll. i. 57). Verdant, beguiled by base love, relinquishes his heroic prowess to the langour of lewd lust. He seemd to bee Sorne goodly swayne of honorable place, That certes it great pittie was to see Him his nobilitie 50 foule deface. (11. xii. 79). His sweet face, his courtierlike grace and his manlY sternness are all of little use, dormant as they lie in his sleeping figure. Most reprehensib1e of all, to Spenser's view, His warlike armes, the idle instruments Of sleeping praise, were hong vpon a tree. (11. xii. 80).

The noble crest on his shield is defaced, 50 that hone may read it. Ne for them, ne for honour cared hee, Ne ought, that did to his aduauncement tend, But in lewd loues, and wastful1 luxuree, His dayes, his goods, his bodie he did spend: o horrible enchantment, that him 50 did blende (11. xii. 80). Even Guyon, the errant knight of Temperance, is beguiled into idly lewd desires in the Bower of Bliss. Lulled by the langorous movement of the waves over which he travels to the Bower, and soothed by the sweet breezes whispering in harmonious sy.mpho~, he is caught up in their idling and drowsy motion. He bids the boatman row less quickly,

50 that he might hear the pleasant melody. The Palmer saves him from this mistake and the reforming party moves on. In the Bower itself, Guyon cornes upon tCissiet and 'Flossie', as C.S. Lewis 50 appropriately named them,l

1 C.S. Lewis, The Allegory of ~ (Oxford, 1936), p. 330. 26

bathing in naked dalliance in a fountain. They play a secret game of

guile with him, teasing him with their bodies and forcing him to endure delicious tonnent, holding their breasts above the waters, "the rest hid vnderneath" (Il. xii. 66). Guyon, despite his brave and virtuous nature, somewhat gan relent his earnest pace, His stubborne brest gan secret pleasaunce to embrace. (11. xii. 65). When the girls bide part of their bodies from his sight, the privation

"him more desirous made" (il. xii. 66), and at last he stops in bis tracks, and in his sparkling face The secret signes of kindled lust appeare. (11. xii. 68). Again the Palmer saves him and the two go on about the business of destroying the Bower. Phaedria, who travels langourously about the Idle Lake,

is the epitome of i~nton slothfulness. She is a sophist extolling the argument of use, and decr.ying the waste of men who ignore pleasure in order to perform heroic deeds. As she lulls Cymochles to sleep in the Bower, she tells him how aIl the beauties of Nature are created for

man's benefit alone. Wby then, she asks, does man permit himself to be a willing slave? \'lby does he not relax and enjoy the beauties that Nature has created for him?

Why then dost thou, 0 man, that of them ail Art Lord, and eke of nature Soueraine, iVilfully rrake thy selie a lvretched thrail, And wast thy ioyous houres in needlesse paine, Seeking for daunger and aduentures vaine? What bootes it all to haue, and nothing vse? (11. vi. 17). 27

Cymochles is lulled into a deep sleep by her false logic. It is not surprising that he is so easily seduced. Atin earlier found him in the Bower of Bliss "giuen all to lust and loose liuing" (11. v. 28), pouring out his idle mind In daintie delices, and lauish ioyes, Hauing his warlike weapons cast behind. (11. v. 28).

He

flowes in pleasures, and vaine pleasing toyes, ~lingled emongst loose Ladies and lasciuious boyes. (Il. v. 2$). Phaedria reclines in her gossamer boat, flitting idly over the placid water like a droning fly, Withouten oare of Pilot it to guide, Or winged canuas with the vJ'ind to flie, Only she turn'd a pin, and by and by It cut away vpon the yie1ding waue, Ne cared she her course for to apply. (11. vi. 5). To Spenser, the appearance of artifice was an instant admission of lustful evil. In every passage which indicates false or excessively lavish qualities, Spenser has depicted the sin of lustful love. In the Cast le Joyous, Venus is depicted as a cunning and devious lover. Even the designer of the arras on which she is portrayed has a !tcunning hand" (Ill. i. 34). The tapestry is described as !ta work of rare deuice, and wondrous wit" (Ill. i. 34). Venus lures Adonis with "sleights and sweet allurements" (Ill. i. 35). She "entyst the Boy, as well that art she knewfl (111. i. 35). She leads hirn to a "secret shade", far from even heaven's view, and bathes him in a fountain by 28

"sorne couert glade." She enjoys his love "in secret vnespyde" (111. i. 37). The Castle Joyous itself is wrought with artful cunning and lavish sumptuousness. Spenser tells us that But for to tell the sumptuous aray Of that great chamber, should be labour l~st: For liuing wit, l weene, cannot display The royall riches and exceeding cost, Of euery pillour and of euery post. (Ill. i. 32). Each post is fashioned from the Itpurest bullionu and decorated with pearls and precious stones, so That the bright glister of their beames cleare Did sparckle forth great light, and glorious did appeare. (Ill. i. 32). It was The image of superfluous riotize, Exceeding much the state of meane degree. (Ill. i. 33). Britomart and the Red-Crosse Knight wonder

whence 50 sumptuous guize Might be maintained. (111. i. 33). l~lecasta, reclining on a sumptuous bed, That glistred aIl with gold and glorious shew, (111. i. 41). tells Britornart of her love for her, pleading for mercy, without which she swears she will die. Britomart believes her, knowing nothing of \'lhat Spenser tenns the Lady' s Umalengine and fine forgerieU (Ill. i. 53) •. During the ensuing revelry, Malecasta bends "her crafty engins ta her close intentu (lll. i. 57), plotting how to win Britomart' s affection. When night falls, she rises from her bed, and ftvnder the blacke vele of guilty Nighttt (Ill. i. 59), she visits Britomart's chamber. 29

The False Florimel is the incarnation of artificiality. She is created by the witch to assuage her son's love melancholy for the real Florimel, and is 50 like her that no one but Britomart can recognize her artificiality. The false lady is fashioned from the

"purest snow in mssie mould congealdtt (lil. viii. 6), tempered with mercur.y and virgin wax. Her eyes are two burning lamps, her hair golden

Wire. Instead of life, "she put a spright to rule the carkasse deadf1 (lli. viii. 7). This sprite is a vncked one, "yfraught with fawning guile" (lil. viii. 8), who "aIl the wyles of wemens wits knew passing weil" (lli. viii. 8). The creature is dressed in Florimel' s own clothes which she left behind when she fled the witch's cottage, and in her feigning, she is the essence of guile, pretending to be the chaste

Florimel, but actual!y practising the wiles of a low!y courtesan. In order to seem more like the true Florimel to the witch's son, she Coy!y rebutted his embracement light; Yet still with gentle countenaunce retained, Enough to hold a foole in vaine delight: Him long 50 with shadowes entertained. (Ill. viii. 10). Her dangerous power lies in the tact that she can cloak her lust under the guise of chastity. At last when she appears at the true Florimel's wedding, and is placed beside her original, she melts away, to become the airy nothing that she actually is. The slothfulness and the luxurious art ifi ciality which accompany lust are perfected and culminated in the Bower of Bliss. The essence of the Bower and of Acrasia's evil lies in its langouous sensualityand idle dalliance. One cannot imagine an enamoured swain pursuing a 30

lady with ardent attentions here. One can see only the passive entice­ ments of a courtesan langourously reclining in a suggestive and provocative

pose. There is ~ action in the Bower of Bliss, save for that instituted by Guyon and the Palmer in their destruction of it. There is no excess or defect of emotion or circumstance here. The weather is always equable, neither too cold, nor too hot. The breezes blow softly, never dying, and yet never gusty. The birds carol softly, neither too loudly, nor

too low, but tfattempred sweettl to the soft voices accompanying them.

The instruments sound in perfect harmony. vdth the softly falling water.

AlI sounds, sights, odours and feelings are modified and presented in order to please the soft sensibilities of men.

Acrasia reclines langourously over the sleeping figure of Verdant, She gazes steadfastly on his slumbering eyes, drawing, it seems, aIl active and puissant force from his defenceless figure. She kisses him softly and leisurely, passively enticing him to a life of lewd sloth. She isensconced in a bed of roses, attired in a veil of transparent silk, her breast bared. Her soft eyes are moist "through langour of her late sweet toyle" (Il. xii. 78), and their fieI""J beams thrill base hearts "yet quenched not" (Il. xii. 78). Her power over men is of a drug-like quality. She lulls their active powers, entices and dral'fS them on, yet never satisfies their desires.

She is master of aIl the sleights and blandishments of her deceitful art, and round about her the Bower itself is a fickle web of falsity and superfluous luxury. It is 31

A place pickt out by choice of best aliue, That natures worke byart can imitate. (11. xii. 42). In it, everything that is sweet and pleasing to the senses is poured forth with plentifull dispense, And made there to abound with lauish affluence. (11. xii. 42).

The large plain within is strewn with flowers, Wherewith her mother Art, as halfe in scorne Of niggard Nature, like a pompous bride Did decke her, and too lauishly adorne. (11. xii. 50). Even the tree branches turn and tvdst about the gate like two lewd lovers "in wanton wreathings intricate" (11. xii. 53). The Porch is fashioned "lrith rare deuice" (11. xii. 54), arched with an "embracing vine" whose branches "seemed to entice all passers by". 'l'here are "painted flowres" and other imitations of Nature, but as false as these

may be, "the Art, l\r!lÎch all that wrought, appeared in no place" (11. xii. 58). One would think That Nature had for wantonnesse ensude Art, and that Art at nature did repine. So striuing each th'other to vndermine, Each did the others worke more beautifie. (11. xii. 59).

Over all is spread a trail of ivy wrought in purest gold, so richly coloured That wight, who did not well auis'd it vew, ~vould surely deeme it to be yuie trew. (Il. xii. 61).

Its "lasciuious armes adowne did creepe" to a crystal stream which

seemed "for wantones to weepe" (Il. xii. 61). Acrasia lies shrouded

"in secret shade" (11. xii. 72). Nore subtile web Arachne cannot spin, Nor the fine nets, which oft we ..Touen see Of scorched deaw, do not in th'aire more lightly flee, (11. xii. 77) 32

than the suggestive filminess of her gown. Caught suddenly in

Guyon's net of captivity, she tries uall her arts, and aIl her sleights, thence out to Ttrreet" (11. xii. 81). All is in vain. Acrasia is ignominously bound and sent to the court of the Faery Queene, and her beautiful bower is completely destroyed. It is evident that Spenser, mueh as he disapproved of lust and 1vanton luxury, had the distraeting fa culty of painting his evil pictures in beautiful colours. Acrasia is a vile and loathly enchantress, and her BOVler is a den of iniquity. l knOVI these things to be true. But how much more titillating, howmueh more fascinating, is the beautiful enchantress than the staid and somber Hedinal Acrasia possesses aIl the enticing beauty of a young temptress. Medina resembles only someone's maiden aunt. uIt is • • • worth noting that Spenser' s most unifornùy beautiful lines, apart from pageantry, are those which either summon to high endeavor or invite to sensuous easelu2 Desirable as we know the destruction of the BOTtrer to be, we cannot help but wish to adopt MT. Bush's suggestion that, for those of us who decry its demolition, the Bower might remain unmolested, perhaps Ttlith a sigh deelaring it to be under new management to assuage our righteous consciences.

2Douglas Bush, Nythology ~ the Renaissance Tradition in English Poetry (Oxford, 1932), p. 9$. 33

CHAPTER IV

LUSTFUL LOVE (CONTlNUED)

The preceding chapter has dealt with two important aspects

of lustful love, those of slothfulness and artificiality, as exposed in the Bower of Bliss. This chapter will deal 'IJo.rith the characters representing lustful animality. These lustful lovers are the basest in the entire poem. They are animal-like in their sensual instincts, seeking sexual gratification only, unmoved by any other form of physical or spiritual attraction. Spenser describes them by means of his 'speaking pictures' as savage looking creatures, panting with hot breath after their helpless prey, ogling with peeping eyes their prospective victims. In the House of Pride, Lechery rides

Vpon a bearded Goat, whose rugged haire, And whally eyes (the signe of gelosy,) Was like the person selfe, whom he did beare. (1.iv.24) He is rough, black and filthy, "vnseemely man to please faire Ladies eye" (1. iVe 24). He is dressed in green, hiding his filthy body. In his hand he carries a burning heart, a sign of his fal"sity and fickleness. He

learned bad to loue with secret lookes, And weIl could daunce, and sing with ruefulnesse, And fortunes tell, and read in louing bookes, And thousand other wayes, to bait his fleshly hookes. (1. iVe 25) 34

He is inconstant, loving everyone he sees and lusting after everyone he loves. He disdains marital 1aw and lives to tempt women a1ready bound, to try to wean them from their lega1 loves. He is consumed with a loathly disease "that rots the marrow, and consumes the braine" (1. iVe 26). The greedy monster Lust who carries Amoret off to his cave is the incarnation of lustful hatefulness. He is

a Hilde and saluage man, Yet was no man • • • AlI ouergrowne with haire, that could al'lhape An hardy hart. (IV. vii .. 5). His 1ips are stained with gore, gruesome testimony of his ravenous assults . on men and beasts. His nose is a great beak ftempurpled aIl with bloud", and his ears hang dorm both sides of his head 1ike those of an elephant.

His wast was l~th a wreath of yuie greene Engirt about, ne other garment wore. (IV. vii. 7).

He flings Amoret into his dark cave with Ae~lia and one other pitiable creature who satisfies his lust and saves the other two from foul dishonour. It is this dreadful ~~nster's custom to devour his captives once he has ravi shed them, and it is on1y by a virtual miracle that the fearful prisoners manage to escape. The dreadful twins, Argante and Ollyphant, are truly horrible pictures of lust. Their atrocities are heaped one upon the other to such an overwhelming degree that the ultimate picuure presented is one of unbearable 1oathesomeness.

Argante is a dreadful creature, bom of incest, the product of a union between mother and son. Her twin brother is as wicked as she, 35

and the two horrible creatures, while still unborn and in their motherts womb, engaged in fleshly lust. Spenser speaks of this terrible action as na thing far passing thoughtn (Ill. vii. 48). Even more terrible, at their birth, these two were joined in coitus when they first appeared in the world. So liu'd they euer after in like sin, Gainst natures law, and good behauioure. (111. vii. 49). Spenser condemns both, but he apportions the greatest blame to Argante, Who not content so fowly to deuoure Rer natiue flesh, and staine her brothers bowre, Did wallow in all other fleshly ~re, And suffred beasts her body to deflowre: So whot she burned in that lustfull fyre, Yet aIl that might not slake her sensuall desyre. (Ill. vii. 49). In this stanza, Spenser has included four sins pertaining to lust. The first has already been mentioned, that of inceste In addition to this unnatural practice, Argante is plagued with lustful desires for all men, and 50 gross is she, that she"e · ri.io~s . beOs.+s. Most disgusting of all, none of these perversions is able to satisfy her. She is a nymphomaniac. Rer entire existence is spent in travelling about the countr,yside capturing young men and carrying them off to a life of thraldom and servitude to her sensual desires. She is actually a procurer, a Giantess of Brostitution, who differs from the usual of this type only in that the spoils of her conquests are meant for her pleasure alone.

Rer twin brother Ollyphant is no better, For as the sister did in feminine And filthy lust exceede all woman kind, So he surpassed his sex masculine, In beastly vse that l did euer find. (111. xi. 4) 36

He also, of course, indulges in incest, and like his sister, performs sodomous acts. To his degradation is added the additional sin of homo- s exua lity as he pursues young men to assuage his camaI appetite. His insatiable lust is que lIed onlY by the onslaught of Britomart, for It was not Satyrane, whom he did feare, But Britomart the flowre of chastity. (111.xi.6). Busirane, the vile enchanter, is a sadistic purveyor of lust. He is a magician, who writes his weird spells in the red blood dripping from Amoretts bleeding heart. He has bound the ladyts hands and encircled her slender waist with iron bands which chain her to a pillar. His cruel tortures are inflicted upon her becau8e she refuses to give herself to him in lust. "Ah vTho can loue the worker of her smart?" (111. xii. 31), Spenser asks. His lustful nature precludes any thought of tendemess and love for the fair- Amoret. He desires onlY sensua1 gratification, and when Britomartts appearance in the torture room promises his defeat, he 1eaps in murderous rage upon his he1p1ess captive, intending ta destroy her. Britomart i8 about to kill him when Amoret t 8 cry 8tay8 her hand. She i8 told that the inc3.ntations which Busirane has invoked nrust be recanted in order to set his captive free. No one but he can re1ease her, and Britomart forces hirn, on pain of death, to do sa. He pores over his evil books: Full dreadful1 things out of that balefull booke He red, and measurtd many a sad verse, That horror gan the virgins hart ta perse, And her faire locks vp started stiffe on end, Heating him those sarne bloudy 1ines reherse. (111. xii. 36). 37

Such is the power of his evil mini st rations that the very house in \-Thich they stand begins to quake and aIl the doors to rattle. A.t last the mighty chain falls from Amoretts waist and the great pillar to which she was bound shatters into a thousand pieces. The cruel knife falls from her breast and the horrible wound heals. Busirane is bound with the very chain \-rhich held Amoret and is driven captive before them

"to wretchednesse and ,.... oft (111. xii. 41). Malecasta, the Lady of Delight, is specifically pointed out to the reader as being a lustful wornan. She cares not who learns of her love for Britomart, For she was giuen aIl to fleshly lust, And poured forth in sensuall delight, That aIl regard of shame she had discust, And meet respect of honour put to flight: Sa shamelesse beauty soone becomes a loathly sight. (111. i. 48). Spenser delivers in this episode a clear and obvious tirade against unchastity in women. He commands that aIl women who are in love be governed by chaste desires. He bids them prevent Malecastats fault from marring their characters, and blotting the reputation of aIl their sexe

He says that Halecasta's emotion toward Britomart was not to loue, but lust inclined; For loue does always bring forth bounteous deeds, And in each gentle hart desire of honour breeds. (Ill. i. 49). Not so of loue this looser Dame did skill, But as a coale to kind1e fleshly f1ame, Giuing the bridle to her wanton will, And treading vnder foote her honest name: Su ch loue is hate, and sueh desire is shame. (111. i. 50). 38

Spenser uses the 'speaking picture' of wanton and peeping eyes to betraya person ·.having lustful desires. Male casta seemd a woman of great bountihed, And of rare beautie, sauing that askaunce Her wanton eyes, ill signes of womanhed, Did roll too lightly, and too often glaunce, Without regard of grace, or comely amenaunce. (111. i. 41). She ogles Britomart with crafty glaunce Of her false eyes, that at her hart did ayme, And told her meaning in her countenaunce. (Ill. i. 50). When she reveals her love to Britomart, even that charitable maid thought "her loue too light, to wooe a wandring guest" (111. i. 55). Malecasta nurses her love desire, A.nd through her bones the false instilled fire Did spread it selfe, and venime close inspire. (Ill. i. 56). The knights and ladies all retire to rest, and the unsuspecting Britomart disarmes and lies down te sleep. Malecasta rises in the middle of the night, and nakes her way to Britomart' s chamber, "panting soft, and trembling euerie ioynttt (Ill. i. 60). She enters the room and slips into

Britomart t s bed. The maid awakens and leaps up to snatch her weapon "to gride the loathed leachour" (Ul. i. 62). The irrunodesty and driving lascivity that leads Malecasta to such an extreme cannot be condoned. She is a shameless lecher, one of the most prominent figures of lust in the poem.

In the Castle Joyous, depicted in the arras which decorates its wal1s, is the lustfül figure of Venus. vJnile her lover Adonis bathes, with her two crafty spyes, She secretly would search each daintie lime (Ill. i. 36). 39

The picture of the lustful eyes is a common one in ~ Faerie Queene. 'Gissie' and 'Flossie', the tl-TO wanton women in the Bower of Bliss, display themselves "to greedy eyes" (Il. xii. 64). Guyon loses sight of the nature of his quest when he sees them, and the Palmer "much rebukt those wandring eyes of his" (Il. xii. 69). Acrasia's breast is bared to the staring "of hungry eies" (Il. xii. 78). The Squire of Dames and his mistress Golumbell are equally lustful characters. The Squire's character is borrowed from Ariosto; he actually contains no lustful qualities or desires within himself, but is constrained by his mistress to commit his lewd propositions to women. Padelford says: The Squire of Dames is primarily employed to bring out the essential unchasteness of his lady, Golumbell, who, morbid1y exacting, curious, and faithless to her own sex, required of her knight after his long suit and the weary services of bis courtship, first that he should spend a twelvemonth in securing the pledges of other dames, and then so long a period as necessary in the morbid search for an equal number of women whose chastity he could. not assail.l He is weIl chosen for the task. Spenser tells us that he had a louely face, made fit for to deceiue Fraile Ladies hart with loues consuming rage, Now in the blossone of bis freshest age. (Ill. vii. 46). As he goes about his mission of securing as many pledges of love from women as he can in a year, he says that he

Ipadelford, Variorum, III, 328. 40

found such fauour in their louing hartes, That ere the yeare his course had compassid, Three hundred pledges for my good desartes, And thrise three hundred thanks for my good partes l with me brought, (111. vii. 55).

As many lewd women as there are in the world, the Squire found onlY three who refused his love. The first was a courtesan, who wanted more money than he would paye The second a nun, who feared discover.y. Only the third was genuinelY chaste. The Squire and Satyrane enjoy their male joke, and laugh heartily at this ludicrous state of affairs. It is signif1cant that the onlY truly chaste woman was a peasant girl of mean degree, and this may be Spenser's criticism of the court of his day. In any case, it is certain that the Squire is not representing Spenser's thoughts about women, whom he regarded and treatèd with great reverenee. The Squire's role seems to be merely that of a satirieally drawn figure poking fun at the morals of Spenserts day.

The False Florimel, vapid as she is, reveals lustful a~imality as weIl as artifice. She 1s placed among a group of men and told to choose one, sinee they cannot among themselves agree who shall have her. Then when she long had lookt vpon each one, As though she wished to haue pleasd them aIl, At last to Braggadochio selfe alone She came (IV. v. 26).

She changes lovers as easily as she dons the pose of chastity, and rides away with a bewildering array of men, aIl of whom she satisfies in lust. 41

The fi sherman , the forester and Proteus, aIl of whom attempt the true Florimel's chastity, are very alike in their lustful tendencies. They represent animalism uncontrolled by higher impulses. Their desire is for sexual gratification only, and nothing dissuades them from attempting to satisfy themse1ves. The forester is a rude and savage 100 king man, almost an animal, in his pursuit through the forest of the hapless Florimel. Proteus behaves in a slightly more civilized manner, as does the witch's son, for each attempts to win her love, and does not begin to use force until refused. Of the witch's son, Spenser says: Oft from the forrest wildings he did bring, Whose sides empurpled ,'{ere with srniling red, And oft young birds, which he had taught to sing His ~istresse prayses, sweetly caroled, Girlonds of flowres sometimes for her faire hed He fine would dight; sometimes the squirell wild He brought to her in bands, (lll. vii. 17). Proteus tries to comfort her after her ordeal with the fisherman: But he endeuoured with speeches milde Her to recornfort, and accourage bold, Bidding her feare no more her foeman vilde, Nor doubt himsel.f; (Ill. vii~. 31~). And there ivith many gentle termes her faire besought. (Ill. viii. 35).

He brings Florime1 to his watery bm.... er and entertains her well, To winne her 1iking vnto his delight: \fith flattering words he sl.feetly ''iooed her, And offered faire gifts t'allure her sight. (Ill. viii. 38). Daily he tempted her ,vith this or that, And neuer suffred her to be at reste (111. viii. 39). 42

Both these men fail in their ministrations. Florimel's chastity and devotion to her true love are unassailable. Their true natures assert themselves in aIl their lusty intensity as they seek to capture Florimel's attention by more persuasive means. Proteus changes his shape to that of wild and terrible monsters in an effort to force Florimel to submit. He becomes a giant, a fiend, a centaur, a wild and raging storm. When she remains steadfast throughbut this torment, he savagely commits her to a deep dungeon, and threatens her with eternal thraldom. The fisherman, in Spenser's estimation, is the vile st of the three. To the poet, the admission of lust in an aged person \~s repulsive to an extreme degree. Florimel has fled in terror from the

~~tch's ravaging beast. In desperation, she leaps into a boat and pulls a~y from shore, leaving the roonster to ravage her palfrey in frustrated rage at her escape. A fisherman is asleep in the boat. He

~kes, and seeing his fair passenger, feels in his old courage new delight To gin awake, and stirre his frozen spright. (111. viii. 23).

Florimel tells him of her plight and begs him guide the boat carefully, sinee they are now far out to sea. The old le cher laughs, for his boat, like that of the ~nton Phaedria, Itthe way could ~risely telllt (Ill. viii. 24). But his deceiptfull eyes did neuer lin, To looke on her faire face, and marke her snowy skin. (Ill. viii. 24). The sight Hhereof in his congealed flesh, Infixt such secret sting of greedy lust, That the drie withered stocke it gan refresh, And kindled heat, that soone in flame forth brust: The driest wood is soonest burnt to dust. (111. viii. 25). 43

He leaps upon her, seeking to de fi le her. Her cries of mercy have no

effect on him. The "filthy wretch" "Seeks only his mm pleasure and

sensual satisfaction.

The 'speaking picture' of lustful animality appears in the

description of Grille in the BOi'fer of Bliss. The hideous beasts who

inhabit the Bower are actually human men, transformed, Circe-like, into

savage animaIs. They were once Acrasia's lovers, who satisfied her lusts and were then turned to hideous figures, "according to their mindes like monstruous" (Il. xii. 85). Guyon moralizes on their sad fate: Sad end (quoth he) of life intemperate, And mournfull meed of ioyes delicious. (Il. xii. 85).

Guyon asks the Palmer to return them to their former state, and he

complies. With a stroke of his 'vertuous staffe- they become men.

But one, in the shape of a hog named Grille,

Repined greatly, and did him miscall, That had from hoggish forme him brought to naturall. (Il. xii. 86).

Again Guyon moralizes:

See the mind of beastly man, That bath so soone forgot the excellence Of his creation, when he life began, That now he chooseth, with vile difference, To be a beast, and lacke intellegence. (Il. xii. 87). The Palmer answers: The donghill kind Delights in filth and foule incontinence: Let Grill be Grill, and haue his hoggish mind. (Il. xii. 87). 44

CHAPTER V

COURTLY LOVE

Courtly love may best be described as the exact

approxj~tion of the veneration held by vassals and retainers for

their feudal lord. In this case, the lady in question v~s the lord to

vlhom her adoring lover m.,red his allegiance. Her status vJaS far above

his, and his addresses to the lady were full of the deepest humility.

He addressed her as 'midons', vlhich means 'my lord'. The adoration

~~ich the lover felt for his lady had curiously enobling effect on

him. After he had been s11bjected to the purifying influence of her

love, he emerged a more courageous and more heroic knight.

Despite the enobling nature of this type of love, Spenser adamantly rejected it. He abhorred the central situation of adultery

which occurred in aIl the courtly tales, and developed instead, in his

O'Vffi ~Titing, a situation ,v-hich glorified love in marriage. This idea

had never occurred before. In the three most famous courtly love

tales, those of Lancelot and Guinevere, Tristan and Isolde, and

Troilus ~ Cressida,love in marriage ''las out of the question.

Guinevere and Isolde vIere already married, and Cressida, although a vlidov!, exhibited no intention whatever of marrying Troilus. It v~s 45

commonly supposed that love could not exist in marriage. Spenser heartily disagreed.

Although Spenser rejected the central adulterous theme, he adopted many of the conventions usually associated with the love poetry from the last two or three hundred years, including the

Renaissance and mediaeval poets, Andreas Capellanus, Ovid and

Petrarch.

The origin of courtly love is found in the writings of Ovid,

''l'ho lived in aome at the time of the Emperor Augustus. The Ara

Amatoria 1"1aS a parody on the technical treatises of Ovid' s day, a bit of fooling ,·rhich was taken seriously by the mediaeval poets.

The rules jokingly subm:itted as proper behaviour for levers by ()Irid gave rise to elaborate lists and codes of rules uhich the courtly lover

1\ras expected to follOl·r in the Eiddle Ages. The most noteworthy of these is that dra)m up by Andreas in The Art of Courtly Love.l

Adultery was the central theme of the love relationship. li vmman was expected to have a lover, and \-ras on no account permitted to be in love vdth her husband. It was considered possible to love only one person at a time, and the partièipants were expected to guard this love jealously. The love affair ,',ras kept secret at ail costs, since "'hen love uas made public, it ,'ras thought rarely to endure.

The lover \-[as expected ta undergo physical and mental torment for love of his beloved. He turned pale and became faint in her presence,

l Andreas Capellanus, The Art of Courtly Lov~ transI. by John J~ Parry (Ne\'[ York, 1941) , -;:-184. 46

dressed carelessly and untidily, caring nothing for his physical

appearance. He ate poorly and slept fitfully, aIl through actual

or imagined torment because of his ladyts coldness. He ~Tote love

songs and poems in her honour, and served her at every turn,

entertaining her ,-rith his sltills, or running her most me nia l errands.

Her every vrish vTaS his command.

Some of these courtly love conventions \"rere actually used by Spenser. He did not believe that a man may not love without

jealou~T. In the episodes of Blandamour and Paridell it is plain that envy and jealousy operated against friendship, and therefore against

love. ~albeccots jealousy of Hellenore brought about disaster and

Scudamorets doubt of Amoret delayed their reQ~ion. It is interesting to note, however, that in the love of Belphebe and Timmias, the reaction

of jealousy fol101-ls almost the same pattern as that in the conventional

courtly love tales. Belphebe discovers Tirmnias solacing the vrounded

Amoret after her ordeal vuththe monster Lust. He kisses her, and

Belphebe, in a jealous rage, almost \-vounds him vJith one of the darts.

Timias retreats to the forest to liiTe the life of a love-lorn hermit, bewailing the 1055 of his own true love.

He falls into a deep love melancholy as did all the courtly lovers, and pines avray in dolour and despair. It is plain that Spenser does not approve of this melancholy. He tells us that T;m~ a.s.

His wonted Harlike weapons aIl he broke, And thr81."[ al'TaY, v:i th V01'f to vse no more, Ne thenceforth euer strike in battell stroke, Ne euer \".Tord to speake to ",oman more. (IV. vii. 39). 47

Spenser believed that true love inspired love of anns and 'irrarlike deeds, and that love in a noble man

kindles goodly fire, That to all high desert and honour doth aspire. (111. v. 1).

Any deviation from a knight~ 3 true purpose, that of heroic enterprise,

,-ras IITOng. So, in his picture of the Bower of Bliss, he tells us that

Verdant has hung his annor. and brave sh.éld upon a tree,

Ne for then, ne for honour cared hee, He ought, that did to his aduauncement tend, But in lev,rd loues, and wastfull luxuree, His dayes, his goods, his bodie he did spend. (11. xii. &~).

Spenser repeats many of the old courtly love conventions in regard to

T; T't\', a. '$' behaviour ,,[hile he is iI::J.mersed in this melancholy:

And eke his gannent, to be thereto meet, He wilfully did eut and shape anevl; And his faire lockes, that wont Hith ointment svleet To be e;nbaulm'd, apd svleat out dainty dei·r, He let to grm-.r and griesly to conereH, Vncomb'd, vncurl'd, and earelesly vnshed. (lV. vii. 40).

Like all melancholy lovers, "a pined ghost he soone appearesrt (IV. vii. 41).

In the courtly tradition, he does not eat'.

other food then that ldlde forrest beares, Ne other drinke there did he euer tast, Then rurming \,,~ter, tempred ",r:i..th his teares, The more his ... reakened body 50 to '1'rast. (lV. vii. 41).

Through his long fasting he is nvTOxen pale and wan" (lV. vii. 43).

He goes abo1:t the forest engraving the names of his beloved on every tree, very much as Orlando carved the ~'lOods with Rosalind's name.2

2Shakespeare, As You ~ It, Act 111, Scene ii t 48

It is interesting to note ~ that Spenser, as well as the mediaeval courtly love poets, excluded the peasant class from love.

Andreas said that peasants rnade love like animals and were incapable of follOldng the courtly rules of behaviour. Besides, he pointed out that they vrorked ha.rd in the fields all day, and that any other activity would be impossible.3 There is not one example in The Faerie

Queene of a pair of rude or rustic lovers.

Paridell, in his seduction of Hellenore, obeys many of the cOurtly love commands.

He sigh'd, he sobd, he S'tlOvmd, he perd~r dyde, And cast himselfe on ground her fast besyde: Tho 1:rhen a.saine he him bethought ta liùe, He i"Jept, and "trayld, and false laments belyde, Saying, but if she Eercie 1'1'ould him giue That he mote a1~ates è_ye. (111. x. 7).

Like a true courtly lover, he entertains her,

Fou singing sVJeet~T, to surprise her sprights, HOvI mating la:;res of loue and louers paine, Bransles, Ballads, virelayes, and verses vaine. (111. x. 8).

After liarinell hears F1orirnel's voice raised in lament for love of him, he fa1ls into a melancholy sa deep that his mother fears for his health. Like all melancholy lovers, he broods alone, not knm\ring l'lhere he is going.

In this sad plight he vlalked here and there, And romed round about the rocke in vaine, As he had lost him seIfe, he 'tlist not vJhere. (IV. xii. 17).

On the ,-my home ld.th his mother, he :rall the , ..ay did inly mournelt at the sad plight of his beloved. In his mother' s ba-uer,

3 Andreas, p. 150. 49

In solitary silence far from vught, He gan record the lamentable stovITe, In vJhich his 1tIT'etched loue laYe (lV. xii. 19).

The thought 'VJhereof empierst his hart so

Soone his cheerful colour "gan fadeft ; he erows listless and pallid;

His cheeke bones rmv, and eie-pits holloH grevr, And brmmey armes had lost their knowen might, That nothing like himselfe he seem'd in sight. Ere long so vJeake of limbe, and sicke of loue He t>lOxe, that lenger he note stand vpright, But to his bed i'laS brought, and layd aboue, Like rue full ghost, vnable once to stirre or moue. (lV. xii. 20).

Ealecasta undergoes much the same torment in her love for Britomart,

And aIl attonce discouered her desire Hith sighes, and sobs, and plaints, and piteous griefe, The out'Vrard sparkes of her in burning fire; Hhich spent in vaine, at last she told her briefe, That but if she did lend her short reliefe, And do her comfort, she mote algates dye. (111. i. 53).

Britomart too, employs many of the courtJ...:r traditions in her lov'e for Artega.l. M'ter she has seen his iElage in Herlin' s magic nù.rror,

Sad, solemne, sm":re, and full of fancies fraile She woxe; yet wist she neither hOlI!, nOl'[ \.... hy, She Hist not, silly l-Jayd, .·rhat she did aile. (111. ii. 27).

Following the sarae tradition,

sleepe full farre away from her did fly; In stead thereof sad sighes, and sorrmres deepe Kept watch and "Jard about her vlarily, That notlght she did but "\-Jayle, and often steepe Her daintie couch Idth teares, l,rhich closely she did vreepe. (Ill. ii. 28). 50

She puurs out her grief as she sits by the sea-strand before her battle

vrith Earinell. She sighs and -vreeps and blames fate for her present

pain.

In the same manner, Arthur undergoes the seizure of love

melancholy. Like aIl true courtly lovers, he and Britomart have

in their minds at all times the thought of their absent loves.

Another convention \',rJ:lich Spenser adopted from the cOUrtly

love tales vras that of the physical settings of the courts of love

as they existed in the literature of the court of Harie de Champagne.

The coimtess held an actual court of love to ,'[hich lovers came to have

vœongs redressed or to obtain judgments in love disputes. In the literature

of the period , there sprang up a convention of a court of love which

told of courts in three standard settings -- the natural, the indoor \ and the combination of the tvro. The courts of love which had an

outdoor setting were placed in a garden, meadow or plain. As a back-

drop, they possessed the conventional landscape of forest and sky,

together 'vith a fountain, an arbor or just a single tree, and the

thrones on 1,rhich the king and queen of love sat. The courts vlhich

had an indoor setting 1iere situated in a temple, palace or castle,

I"rl.th a prominent entrance. Ïhere ,-las interior ornamentation in the form of tapestries or paintings, and an inner room or altar.

other features are common to many of the courtly tales: the castle of love is set with gold and precious stones, as is the 51

altar or in.ner room. There is a friend or guide there vrho teaches the

visiting knight the lore of love. A multitude of lovers pray to the

God of love in the Te~ple. They are divided into groups according to

their fortunes in the war of love. The knight is given a list of the

statutes of love VIhich must be obeyed in arder ta gain success in love. l'he personification of Pity is a figure who helps the knight

to win his lady. A feast is held by the Gad of love, and the lady

promises to be his on that day. There is a bird's parody of holy

hymns in honour of the Gad of love, and a gathering and thro~Qng of

havrthorn and flowers after the mock-service. The general idea of the

court follo1-!s that of a feudal lord, he Id by Cupid or Venus, attentled

by a throng of pesonified abstractions acting as courtiers. During

the court scene, the statutes of love are read. They are a series of

commandments ta be observed by those vrho O1'le allegiance to the lord

of love.

ln The ~F~a~e~r~i_e Queene, the courtly setting has been used to

sorne degree in t\ielve distinct episodes. Those episodes ,'lhich have a setting in Nature are the Bovrer of B11ss (Il. xii), the Garden of

Adonis (111. vi), and the Court of nature (VII. vi and vii). Those

,ihich have a setting in a temple or castle are the House of Pride

(1. iVe and v.), the House of Holiness (1. x), the House of Busirane

(Ill. xi. and xii), the Rouse of Temperance (11. ix), the Castle

Joyous (ILl. i), the Temple of Isis CV. vii), the Palace of Justice (V. iv), and the Court of Cupid (VI. vii). One setting, the Temple 52

of Venus (IV. x), includes elements of each of these settings.

For the purpose of this thesis, those courts receiving particular study \'Jill be the Bmver of Bliss, the Garden of Adonis, the Castle Joyous, the House of Busirane, the Court of Cupid and t .he Temple of Venus.

1. The B011er .2f Bliss: As Guyon travels ...rith the Palmer tmIard the Bov.rer of Bliss, he encounters many strange adventures. The hazards he is forced to

overcome are directly cionnected \dth the BOl-fer itself, and represent the psychological disturbances '·.11ich visit every person connected with the court of love. They may be likened to the series of psychological personifications IV'hich folloH A.'1loret in the masque of Cupid, although these, unlike those in the House of Busirane, are not conventional courtly figures.

The first of the hazards that Guyon meets is the Gulf of

Greedine ss vlhich ftdeep engorgeth aIl this worldes pray" (lI. xii. 3).

On the other side of the treacherous strea..m is the Rocke '!:Thich draws aIl ships to their doom like a nügh~magnet. Th~successfully elude these perils, and pass by the mouth of Tarta~J, only to come upon the Rocke of vile Reproch. They pass the Handering Islands, the false mermaids, the Quicksand of Unthriftyhed and the (·fuirlpool of Decay.

At last, avoidir.g the deadly cries of sirens and great monsters, they arrive at the Bm'rer itseilf. 53

The great dangers encountered during the approach to the

Bm,,rer illustrate Spenser' s peculiar ability to reflect and suggest mental states. The prevailing theme here, is , of course, confusion

and destruction. 'fhere is nothing to resemble this pieture of Spenser's

afl.yvrhere in courtly literature. It is his ovm interpolation into an

existing convention.

The BOi-rer Js enclosed by the conventional court of love bounda~, in this case a fenee. but here, the gate joining the

fenee is defective,

wrought of substaunce light, Rather for pleasure, then for batte~ or fight. (Il. xii. 1+3).

The ornate substance and ornamentation of the gate is conventional, as is the histo~J inscribed therein. It

framed vias of precious yuo~, That seemed a worke of admirable l'dt. (Il. xii. 44). 'l'here is the usual Porter on the poreh, the Genius of the Bower, but, contrary to the usual courts of love hé is ffthe foe of life". Guyon enters into a vdde and spacj.ous plain, the conventional natural setting for the courts of love. Here it is r-Iantled Hith greene, and goodly beautifide Hith aIl the ornaments of Floraes pride. (Il. xii. 50).

The temperature is equable -- Nor. . .scorehing heat, nor cold intemperate ~ut. the milde aire \\rith season moderate Gent1yattempred. (Il. xii. 51). He comes to the inner porch, beautifully adorned, and passes on to the "daintie Paradise", gazing at

The painted flovITes, the trees vp shooting hye, The dales for shade, the hilles for breathing space, The trembling groues, the Christall rtU1ning bYe (11. xii. 58). This is the conventional setting for the court of love \lith flmvers, trees, hills and dales, and a gently flmving stream. In the midst of all stands a fountain, and from the Arbors cornes the sound of music in Nhich birds, voices, instruments, lvinds and 'Vraters all join.

In beautiful linked melody, Spenser transforms the customar,y parody of religious hymns in the court of love to a sensuous onomatoIXleic lulling of harmonious sounds.

Acrasia appears, representing the Queen of Love in this instance, idling on her bed of roses in dalliance \'i'ith her latest conque st • In the usual court of love scenes, Venus is connected ,dth the bm-Jer of roses and the ambrosial kisses. The conventional mourning lovers here have taken the form of savage beasts v!hom Acrasia has transformed from living men.

There are conventional aspects in the Bouer of Bliss eo that it very closely resembles a mediaeval court of love. There is, however, one very great difference. Pervading the atmosphere of this court, unlike any of the other conventionalones, is atmosphere of degenerate vraste. All is destruction and decay; in eve~J object, every action, there is the presence of death. This, of couxse, is Spenserts interpolation. It Has his purpose to depict an evil and l'fanton situation, 55

and to do so by illustrating the confusion and dismay in the hluuan

mind i"rhich resulted from this situation. He has succeeded admirably.

2. The Garden 2f Adonis:

This court of love contains beautiful flOt-rers and is guarded

oy tHO ivalls on either side, one of iron and one of gold. They are

invincible; no one can overcome them. The double gates are open vade,

through i'!hich men might pass either in or out.

The Porter is Genius, but a very different porter from that

in the Bovler. He is. a Y.in~r man "Ttlho

letteth in, • ~ • and letteth out to v.'t'nd, AlI thatt.oeotneinto the i"rorld desire. (Ill. vi. 32).

Here, too, the "Jeather is equable: rtThere is continuall spring". Lovers

play vlith their paramours in Itgoodly rrteriment, and gay felicitieYf

(Ill. vi. 41). Flowers bloom in profusion, climbing the trees which are laden vrith fruit. Birds sing among the shady leaves. In the midst

of the Garden stands

a stately Eount, on ".Ihose round top A gloomy groue of mirtle t.rees dicl. rise. (111. vi. 43).

There is adainty arbou. tid.ned with ivy. The catalogue of flowers is ! glo1langly described. Venus, the Queen of love, bends entrancingly over

Adonis, her paramour, and ttpossesseth him, and of his S1rleetnesse takes her filla (Ill. vi. 46).

Cupid sports among these pleasures, and ftwith faire Adonis pla;ys his ..fanton part SU • His love Psyche lives vath hm., and their . 56

daughter Pleasure is a companion to PJmoret.

There is a fantastic difference in atmosphere behreen the Bm·.rer

and the Garden. Hhile the former depicts only destruction through idle wantonness, the Garden is vibrant \'lith life because of Us healthy generation. The love element here is free and open. There are no

sleights or Hiles to be practised on the Ullsuspecting lover. Every

leaf and flm·rer, every fish and bird joyously multiplies. Love here

is represented as the sustaining and life-giving pOVv'l1r of the universe.

It is no trap to bait the ueak flesh of men; it is the healthy needful process by vrhich our race is rnaintained.

3. The Castlé Joyous:

This castle is our first example of the indoor court of love.

There is an inner cha.mber 1r!hich is dazzling in its sumptuousness.

Spenser says that he cannot describe the splendour of

The royall riches and exceeding cost, Of euery pillour and of eue~J post; ~'i'hich aIl of purest bullion framed 1'rere, And ,·rith great pearles and pretious stones embost, That the bright glister of their beames cleare Did sparckle forth great light, and glorious did appeare. (Ill. i. 32). The innermost room to vlhich they are led is just as rnagnificent.

Îhe vlalls are dressed in Tlcostly clothes of Arras and of Tourett , on i'.llich are portrayed the love of Venus and Adonis. She leans over him as he sleeps just as Acrasia did over Verdant,

And her soft arme lay vnderneath his hed, And with ambrosiall tisses bathed his eyes. (lll. i. 36).

She bathes him in a fountain by a secret glade while the lovers in the 57

court spend ail their time

Dauncing and reueling both day and night, And s'Vd.rnnüng deepe in sensuaJ~ de sire s , And Cupid still emongst them kindled lustfull fires. (Ill. i. 39). Husic plays an important role in this court as it did in

the previous t\vo. He see the birds' choir again ucaroling of loue

and iollitylt.

Lhe Queen of love in this court lies on a sumptuous bed

Hhich glistens v.rith gold and precious stones. She serves a feast at

uhich aIl the knights and ladies take their fiil. In this court, it is

the Queen herself ImO i's struck by Cupid' s dart, and falls into the

deepest love-melancholy. She mv-ears to Britomart, the object of her

))ve, that if she does not receive mercy nshe mote algates dye". She rends endearingly over the sleeping Britomart in the lustful attituàe

v..-ith lvhich He have become familiar in the other courts of love.

The resemblance of the present court of love to the Bower

of Bliss is inmistakable. 1he same aura of upnealthy and wasteful lust and luxury pervades both places. It is obvious that Spenser's skill

in adaptill6 basically the SaIlle situation to fit various needs and

ideas is unbounded. 4. The House 2f Busirane: This is a court of love in the traditional manner. Britomart

has come, an errant knight, to seek the Gad of love and free a

damsel in distress from his tyranny. 58

There is no gate to Busirane's castlè, but a terrible wall of fire which bars everyone from entering because of its scorching heat and nauseating stench acts in the same capacity. Britomart does enter, hm-lever, and cornes to the innermost room "rhich abounds "with all precious store" (111. xi. 27). The walls are hung vlith tapestries depicting Cupid's many triumphs over both god and man. They are Vvouen with gold and silke so close and nere, That the rich metall lurked priuily, As faining to be hid from enuious eye. (111. xi. 28). The conventional lovers appear here in the form of portraits: And mingled with the raskall rablement, Without respect of person or of port, To shel·r Dan Cupids powre and great effort. (111. xi. 46). At the end of the room stands an altar built of precious stones on which stands an in~ge of Cupid, blindfolded and carrying his mortal bow and arrows. All the people of the house worship his image. lilith a clap of thunder, the masque of Cupid enters. It follows much the same pattern as the masques described in the chronicles of Holinshed, which were Elizabethan entertainments held at feasts and weddings. First is a dumb show, follo.. red by the band of minstrels and bards. The sweetness of the rr~lody recalls once again the parody of birds from the Court ~ Love.4 Next, a troup of psychological personifications appears, representing different states of mind experienced by lovers during their romance. The characters of Daunger and Feare are familiar to readers of the Roman de la Rose.

The sufferer at the hands of Love is in this case a woman, the fair Amoret, who is being held captive by the tyrant Busirane.

4Vi .A • . Neilson, "The. Orig~ns and Sources of the '''';o1f!.'t of Love~tI Studles and Notes ~ Phllology ~ Literature VI \Boston, 1899J, 5-6. 59

She is mortally wounded by Cupid's knife. After her, mounted on a

raging lion is Cupid himself, proudly gloating over his unhappy prisoner.

After him

a rude confused rout Of persons flockt. (111. xii. 25). ·.Chey are mourners unhappy in love. The entire rabble disappears and

Britow~rt is left alone.

The actual binding and torturing of the prisoner of Love which

appears in this episode is unique. Hm"ever , it is merely an allegorical

statement in physical fact which is representative of the mental and emotional sufferings endured by aIl lovers.

5. ~ ~ Ef Cupid: This court is modelled very much on the actual court he Id by

Harie de Champagne and is held for the sole purpose of redressing

the wrongs of those in love.

The gods decry Hirabella's pride which holds her aloof and

disdainful of aIl men who woo her. Cupid holds his court every Valentine's day and aIl lovers resort to him for judgment or give report of their successes.

Cupid musters his army of lovers and becomes angry when through death or exile many of them are missing. He receives evidence that one woman, ~ïrabella, has betrayed and murdered them aIl. A warrant is

issued for her arrest and bailiff summoned to serve it. She is brought to the 60

court, but she refuses to answer questions betause of her stubborn pride.

Judgment is passed, and at last

Her stubborne hart, 'tvhich loue before disdayned, GaD stoupe, and falling do~me vIi th humble awe, Cryde mercie, to abate the extremitie of law. (Vl. vii. 36).

Cupid pities her, but nevertheless imposes a penance

that through this ,'.rorlds wyde vnldernes She ,';ander should in companie of those, 'l'il she had sautd so many loues, as she did lose. (Vl. vii. 37).

6. The Temple !2f Venus:

The pillars of the Temple of Venus are adorned \vith iVOF'J

and gold. It is situated on an Island protected in this instance by

a Nail of nature, the sea. Only one passage permits entrance, a strong

bridge engraved -v,rith figures and arched l"Iith porches on stately Doric

colurnns. A castle is situated at one end of it. In it live twenty

valiant lmights l'Those office is to maintain the castJ:e against all

attaclœrs.

Before the castle is an open plaine, in the midst of vrhich

stands a pillar. On it i's a shield vrhich ma.:ny sought in vain. It is the shield of love and under it is l'œitten the legend:

Blessed the man that weil can vse his blis: l'lhose euer be the shield, faire Amoret be his. (1'1. x. 8).

The Temple of Venus is perhaps the most conventional of 811

Spenserts courts of love. The guardian at the gate and her attendants, the decorated interior, the mourning lovers, the sacrificial altars, the priests, the goddess and the matronly advioe to the vmoing lover, all may beseen in many of the comrentional co:rrtly tales. 61

There is one significant difference. Scudamore finds

Amoret in the lap of UOIr.anhood, being taught the lore of love. It is not to embrace a vain or perhaps adulterous love that she is beingttained, nor is Scudamore given advice in order to ~~n her pitY and thereafter serve her as a willing thrall. These tvl0 young people are being groomed for marriage, for it cannot be forgotten that conventional as the Temple is, its situation is in the centre of the Garden of Adonis which is abundant with healthy, teeming love.

Thus Spenser, once again, is able to turn from the bonds of convention to create an image l-ffiich embodies his own ideals and not those of his predecessors. He is able to extract what he wishes from the works of other authors, and, in interpolating his o~~, create an entirely new convention belonging only to himself. 62

CHAPTE1.1 VI

MIS}1ATED LOVE

In ail The Faerie Queene, there is only one example of a man and ,.!Oman mismated in love. This situation carne into prominence most obviously in the fabliaux of the Hiddle Ages. The couple in this type of story is ill-matched from several points of vie\-!. There is a wide difference in age between husband and wife, and therefore a disclepancy in their respective energies and physical abilities. The husband is usuaily physically inf1nn, ilnpotent, blind or lame. He is insanely jealous of his wife's beauty and good spirits and keeps her guarded from all people her o~~ age. Her privation and her naturally high spirits lead her to flirtations, often with disastrous consequences. It is this mismated love which will be examined in this chapter. Spenser's tale of }albecco and Hellenore is an exact counterpart of the fabliaux which ,.lere so cormnon in the Hiddle Ages, and bears an amazing resemblance to two of Chaucer's tales, those of the Miller and the Herchant.

In each of these stories, the stock characters and their personalities are virtually the sarne. The husband is always elderly, 63

far too much so in relation to his youthful bride. In each, he is represented as being physically inf·1rm. Ja nuary , in the :Herchant' s Tale, is blind; John, in the ltiller' s Tale, is impotent. :rtalbeeco is a eombination of these, nunfit faire Ladies seruiee to supply't, forever keeping careful \'!atch over his wife "with his other blineked

eyen (Ill. ix. 5).

Eaeh of them is wealthy, and both January and l~lbeeeo are

incorrigible misers. Most unseemly, in Spenser's view, is the

inordinate lust whieh permeates Malbeeco' s mind for his young "life. Lust is a distressing enough prospect in itself, but when its appearance manifests itself in the desires of old age, the image is doubly disgusting, and made even more pitiable when coupled with the

impotency of the lustful man. Spenser speaks of the aged fisherman who attacked Florimel because of such secret sting of greedy lust, That the drie withered stocke it gan refresh, And kindled heat, that soone in flame forth brust: . The driest wood is soonest burnt to dust. (Ill. viii. 25). Chaucer tells of January's impatience at his marriage feast, as he gazes on his young bride and "J'ishes ttthat it were woxen nyght, And that the nyght wolde lasten everemo. l woulde that al this pepIe were ago." (ll. 1762 - 1764). He is truly "dronken in plesa1.U1ce in mariage".

In eaeh of these husbands, as in aIl cuckolds in the mediaeval fabliaux, existed the deadly sim of Gealosie. Januar,y was consumed with 64

the fyr of jalousie, Lest that his wyf sholde falle in som folye. (11. 2073 - 2074).

Chaucer says of John: Jalous he was, and heeld hire narwe in cage, For she was wylde and yong and he "las old, And demed hymself been lik a cokewold. (Il. 3224 - 3226).

Spenser's ~~lbecco actually becomes, at the end of the episode, the persorification of Gealosie, modelled on the old Jalouse of mediaeval tales. The characters of the three women invo1ved in these stories have a common core. Hel1enore, I~y and Alisoun are each delightful~ pretty, and are almost anima1-1ike in their exuberance. They are all bright .and fresh. A1isoun was so fair that There nys no man so wys that koude thenche So gay a popelote or swich a wenche. (11. 3253 - 3254). and Januar,y was complete~ bewitched by his "faire, fresshe laay !vray". Hellenore entered the banquet place

with right come~ grace, And faire~ them saluted, as became, And shewd her selfe in a11 a gent1e curteous Dame. (ill. ix. 26). Each is ver,y young. A1isoun is eighteen; Januar,y insisted that the wife he was about to choose be under twenty, and Hellenore is younger than her husband by "far unequa1l yeares" (ill. ix.. 4).

Each of the young women .i 5 .' described as expressing a certain air of animality and exuberance, a lithenessand grace that is matched only 0/ a young and slender animal. A1isoun is as fair As any weze1e hir body gent and smal. (1. 3234). 65

Ful smale ypulled were hire bro'Vles two, And tho were bent and blake as any sloo. (11. 3245 - 3246). She is ttsofter than the wolle is of a wether" (1. 3249), and her song is as loud and lively As any swalwe sittynge on a berne. Therto she koude skippe and make game, As any ~de or calf folwynge his dame. (Il. 3258 - 3260). wynsynge she was, as is a joly colt, Long as a mast, and upright as a boIt. (Il. 3263 - 3264) Hellenore carries her animal nature to a dreadful extreme as she lives in h.l5t · with the satyrs. The entire action of the fabliau is geared to the inconstancy of the young wife, who falls in love with a young man her ovm age and plans to fool her husband to satisfy her carnal desires. In the

Miller's ~ it is the lover 'hende Nicholas', who thinks of the plan to outwit John. In the Merchant' s Tale it is May who does the planning t·o foil January's attempt to guard her. It is Hellenore, too, who thinks of the plan to set Malbecco's castle afire, knowing that she could escape with Paridel while her miserly husband fought to save his first love, his accumulated treasure. In each of these three stories, however, Chaucer and

Spenser, while they do not condone ~he wives' actions, at least give adequate reason for their inconstancy. Chaucer tells us that Alisoun

10JaS

wylde and yong and he was old, And demed hymself been lik a cokewold. (Il. 3225 - 3226). 66

John did not know That ••• man Sholde wedde his simylitude. Men sholde wedden after hire estaat, For youthe and elde is often at debaat. (Il. 3228 - 3230). In the tale of January, Chaucer tells us that Whan tendre youthe hath wedded stoupyng age, Ther is swich rnlfrthe that it may nat be writen. (11. 1738 - 1739).

Spenser says that Malbecco and Hellenore are "unfitly yoktlt and the implication is that they could not be expected to maintain a happily united love under these circurnstances. The lover in each of these stories is also a familiar character. He is a squire, in Paridell's case a knight, engaged in sorne kind of service to the lady' s husband. Damien was actually

January's squire, "which carf biforn the lmyght ful many a day". Nicholas is a boarder at John's house. Paridell is a knight-errant committed to service on the part of every gentle man and woman in Faery Land. AlI three lovers are young and personable, far more suitable lovers to their respective ladies than were their husbands. They are clever, learned men. Nicholas i5 a "poure scoler", a student of astrology; Damien, one well-versed in the gentle art of courtly courtesyj and Paridell also, rtthe learned lover". In every fabliau, a necessary consequence to the love- ' of the paramour for his lady was the affliction of love-sickness. Chaucer's and Spenser's tales are no exception. 67

Nicholas, torn by his love for Alisoun, catches her in his arms and gan mercy for to crye, and spak so faire, and profred him so faste, That she hir love hym graunted atte laste. (11. 3288 - 3290). After the fashion of all lovers, he taketh his sawtrie, And pleyeth faste, and maketh melodie. (11. 3305 - 3306). Damien is more severely stricken. He was so enamoured of lvfay

That for the verray peyne he was ny wood. Almoost he swelte and swowned ther he stood, So soore hath Venus hurt hym with hire brond. (11. 1775 - 1777). Chaucer tells us that "woful Damyan" "langwissheth for love". Also prively a penner gan he borwe, And in a lettre wroot he al his sorwe, In manere of a compleynt or a lay, Unto his faire, fresshe lady May. (11. 1879 - 1882). He is taken so ill with love melancholy that he cannot attend his duties to January, but lies in "silmesse and ••• sorwe" in his bed. May visits him and he gives her a letter crying SMercy! and that ye nat discovere me, For l am deed if that this thyng be kyd." (Il. 1942 - 1943). In Spenser, although Paridell's concern and melancholy are feigned, he does, nevertheless, give vent to several stereotyped expressions of love melancholy: He sigh'd he sobd, he sWOl'md, he perdy dyde, And cast himselfe on ground her fast besyde: Tho when againe he him bethought to liue, He wept, and wayld, and false laments belyde, Saying, but if she Hercie would him giue That he mote algates dye, yet did his death forgiue. (Ill. x. 7). 68

NOvi singing sweetly, to surprlse her sprights, Now rnaking layes of loue and louers paine, Bransles, Ballads, virelayes, and verses vaine; Oft purposes, oft riddles he deuysd. (Ill. x. 8).

and euery while He did her seruice dewtifull, and eewed At hand vuth htunble pride, and pleasing guile. (ill. xi. 9).

The complete subjection of the lover to his lady's will vms a practice common to the courtly lover. His illness, his pleas for mercy and his letters were necessary accoutrements to his actual wooing of the lady. 'i'hey were designed to l'un her mercy and pity, and so to gain her love.

\Vhen ~ay decides to return Damien's love, Chaucer tells us that it is because "pitee renneth soone in gentil hertel" (1. 1986). Spenser uses almost the very same expression as he describes Belphebe's feeling on finding the wounded Timmias in a swoon: But when she better him beheld, she grew Full of soft passion and vnwonted smart: The point of pittY perced through her tender hart. (Ill. v. 30).

But Spenser did not approve of ~ay's pity for Damien, or of that of Hellenore for Paridell. He did not condone any emotion, however noble, which ignored or mocked his own moral and ethical standards. He disapproved heartily of adulterous love, and approved of no emotion vmich made this type of love possible.

In each of the three stories, the circumstances of the husband's deception and the fulfillment of the lovers' lust are amazingly similar. In each case the climax occurs in the dark of 69

night, during the confusion resulting from a ruse perpetrated by the lovers on the foolish and credulous husband. John is deceived into believing a second flood has come to destroy aIl the world saving only himself, his wife and Nicholas. Blind January is deceived by May into thinking she wishes to climb the tree to reach sorne of its fruit, while in reality Damien stands silent in the branches awaiting her.

~~lbecco is distracted by the firing of his carefully hoarded treasure, and is deceived by Hellenorets feigned cries into believing that his wife is being unwillingly abducted, while in reality she is very much a willing partner to the escape. The actual act of infidelity in ail the stories is committed in the presence or in the very close proximity of the unsuspecting husband. Nicholas and Alisoun retire to the chamber under the very roof where John sleeps awaiting the flood. May and Damien meet in the pear tree before the very eyes of January, Hellenore and Paridell retire to a wooded place a short distance from Malbeccots burning castle. The prime consideration in each of the iilicit affairs, is, of course, that of secrecy. Alisoun warns Nicholas that her husband is jealous and counsels him "That but ye wayte weI and been privee, l woot right wel l barn but deed," quod she. nYe moste been ful deerne, as in this cas.l')(ll. 3295 - 97). lf~y and Damien are forced to communicate

by writyng to and fro, And privee signes. (11. 2104 - 2105). 70

Paridell is forced When so in open place, and commune bord, He fortun'd her to meet, with commune speach He courted her, yet bayted euery word, That his vngentle hoste n'ote him appeach Of vile vngentlenesse, or hospitages breach. (111. x. 6). Discovery does not always enter the picture in the fabliaux. ~ay and Damien are, of course, discovered, as are Hellenore and Paridell. Alisoun and Nicholas, however, rnanmge to retain their secret, and allay aIl fear of discovery by inducing the townspeople to believe that po or old John, in addition to suffering a broken arm in his fall from the roof, has quite taken leave of his senses.

The credulity of January in bélieving ~~y's fantastic excuse for committip~ adulter,11 is surpassed only by that of John in allowing Nicholas to convince him that the world was indeed coming to an end. Malbecco is the onlY one of the three who appears to have been at all incredulous, but he equals January in his stupidity and lack of personal pride by begging Hellenore, as she lay among the satyrs, to return to him, promising that all would be forgiven and forgotten. She refuses, preferring her present life of nymphornania and 'u.~t, but May :harkens to her husband's

IShe told him that it was in order to regain his sight for him. This he actuallY did, as a gift from the gods, who pitied him and returned his sight in tiIœ to witness the act of infidelity while it was actually being committed. 71

pleas, .and returns to him, 1eaving the distinct impression that this will not be the 1ast of her amoral escapades.

r~lbecco becomes the personification of Gea10sie at the end of the episode, typifying the mediaeval concept of the old Jalouse.

In hirn, we find all the evi1s of a thoroughly disgusting man. He is rniser~ and grasping, avaricious, lusty, bad-tempered, suspicious, unsociable, discourtecus, unchivalrous and jealous beyond all be1ief. It is no wonder that at the end of the episode, Spenser describes him as having lost his human identity, so that he lives

Hatefull both to hirn selfe, and euery wight; Where he through priuy griefe, and horrour vaine, Is woxen so deform'd, that hehas quight Forgot he was a man, and Gealosie is hight. (111. x. 60). He11enore is an example of how 'love' in base minds

"stirreth vp to sensua11 desirelt, quite imlike the noble love of Arthur for the Faerie Queene which in braue sprite • •• kindles goodly fire, That to all high desert and honour doth aspire. (111. v. 1.) Driven by the impotence and grasping old age of her husband, and jealous~ guarded and kept from contact with anyone of her own age or indeed anyone outside the castle, it is no wonder that Hellenore: .

~ .. , -=0= 1 rebelsagainst this ascetic ~prisonrnent and leap at the first opportunity of excitement and animal lust which presents itself. If this were the and of the matter, it would be difficult in our hearts to condernn her. But unfortunate~, this is not the complete story. We are told that when Paridell made signs and gestures of kindling lust 72

to her at the feast, Ne was she ignoraunt of that lewd lore, But in his eye his meaning wisely red, (111. ix. 28). implying that, few though the opportunities for illicit relations were, she had had many occasions on which to become thoroughly familiar

~dth aIl the manifestations and procedure. At this point in the narrative we begin to lose our sympathy for Hellenore's plight and subsequent infidelity. The conclusion forces us to indict her emphatically. She is abandoned by Paridell, a light-o'-love, who cannot even tell where she is when hj9" is questioned by her unhappy husband. He can only say he tlnould be clogdtl • Hellenore has come upon a band of satyrs, in whose company Malbecco finds her, dancing and singing about the may pole, receiving the buss of each of the savage creatures. At night she lies down to sleep among them, and Malbecco creeps from his hiding-place among the goats to entreat her return. She scorns his offer of forgiveness, preferring to remain a~ong her wild companions. At last the true picture is clear and certain. Hellenore is revealled as a whoring nymphomaniac, a seeker of sensual gratification, one who is roused nine times from her slumber by one of the satyrs2 and '; that nights ensample did bewray, That not for nought his wife them loued so well, When one so oft a night did ring his matins belle (Ill. x. 48).

2Spenser's choice of the word 'satyr' could weIl have the same context as it does today, and the satyrs' chèice of a satisfying mate to each of them and to them all, will permit only one interpretation. 73

Spenser's doctrine, then, upholds the Aristotelian theor,y that true lovers, like true friends, must be equal in ever,y respect. The difference between the ages of Malbecco and Hellenore was one cause of the disaster portrayed in this episode. 74

CHAPTER VII

CHASTE LOVE

In his term 'chaste love', Spenser did not include any resemblance to asceticism. He meant, rather, a healthy and entirely normal attachment between two people which produced in them the desire for matrimony and fruitful progeny. It is interesting to note that the representatives of chaste love, Britomart, .~oret and Florimel, are aIl women, as is the emblem knight of that virtue, who is, of course, Britomart. No student of lire can doubt that Spenser is right in giving prominence to a heroine rather than a hero. The adventure assigned to Scudamore is in reality achieved by Britomart, who becomes the dominant figure in the legend of Chastity. Spenser had se en enough of life to realize where man, for aIl his heroism and nobility, was likely to be found the weakest, and where he mustlturn for aid, not to other men, but to the noble st type of womanhood. Spenser had always held the estate of womanhood in the highest esteem and looked upon woman herself almost as a mortal looks upon the gods.

Spenser's ~everence for women may best be seen in his reverential tribute to aIl women and especially to his mm bride.

This is reflected in his marriage hymn, the Epithalamion. In words which glow vdth love and adoration, he describes his bride on the

IDe Sêlincourt, Variorum, III, 318. 75

morning of their wedding day. He calls her his "beloued loue", his

"truest turtle doue", and bids man and nature attend her with aIl the

solicitude and care that he h:iJnself feels. He conunands that they

let the ground whereas her foot shall tread, For feare the stones her tender foot should wrong, Be strewed with fragrant flowers aIl along, (Il. 48 - 50). and begs the sun to

let thy lifull heat not feruent be For feare of burning her sunshyny face, Her beauty to disgrace. (Il. 118 - 120).

As the wedding march begins, he likens her to Phoebe "from her chamber

of the East"; 50 lovely is she, that "ye would weene sorne angell she had beene". He calls her a "mayden Queene", and in the tenth verse he

relates, in beautiful linked melody, a catalogue of her attributes. She is sweet, lovely and mild, adorned with grace and virtue. Her eyes are sapphires, her forehead ivory, her cheeks apples, her lips cherries, her breast cream. Her neck is a IIk'3.rble tower, and "aIl her body like a pallace fayre", and as this lovely vision unfolds, the crescendo of his description is reached. Silence ensues, and the torrent of words is stilled as the poet and aIl who list en to him remain silent in wonderment and contemplation of her loveliness.

The poem then becomes a religious prayer of adoration l.nth the Biblical command,

Open the temple gates vnto my loue, Open them ..,ride that she may enter in, And aIl the postes adorne as doth behoue, And aIl the pillours deck with girlands trim, For to recyue this Saynt with honour dew, That commeth in to you. (Il. 204 - 209). 76

As the wedding service proceeds, even the Angels forget their office about the altar, and peep at her lovely face. The bride is brought home, and in the still silence of the night, the poet begs indulgence from Cynthia and Juno for healthy progeny and a happy marriage. The poem extolls the beauty and virtue of Spenser's bride, but it is also a lasting momnnent ta aIl women, an example of the poet' s deep reverence and humble respect which coloured all his thoughts and conceptions of every member of that seXe Padelford suggests an amusing reason for Spenser's choice of a woman to portray the virtue of chastity: nChastity is a virtue which particularly distinguishes woman, especially in a poem directed to the sovereign who posed as a virgin queen and who encouraged her subjects to shield her amours with pyrotechnie praises of her chastityn.2 The treatment of chastity, therefore, was accorded such a prominent position in the scheme of the poem because Spenser wanted royal approval and monetary assistance, and this particular form of flattery l'ras one which Elizabeth could not resist. This is obviously true. In the short verses of introduction to the third book, Spenser is by no means subtle in his flamboyant flattery of his sovereign: It falls me here to write of Chastity, That fairest vertue, farre aboue the rest; For which what needs me fetch from Faery Forreine ensamples, it ta haue exprest? Sith it is shrined in my Soueraines brest, And form'd so liuely in each perfect part, That to al1 Ladies, which haue it profest, Need but behold the pourtraict of her hart, If pourtrayd it might be by any liuing art. (111. i. 1).

2Pade1ford, Variorum, III, 319. 77

He belittles his "humble quill", and asks hm'! he can dare even attempt her praise. He calls her his "faire st Cynthia", and tells her that he shall ho Id tuo mirrors up to her, those of the characters of Gloriana and Belphebe, in which she may see the majesty of her rule in the former, and the virtue of her chastity in the other. Spenser, in referring to the tradition of chivalry in its worship of woman, raised the adoration of beauty to its highest point of ideality and blended the two in a new vlOrship of womanhood. Spenser thus creates a new concept. Usually, in an epic, the woman cornes on the scene orüy te impair the moral qua lity and the manly actions of the hero, as did Dido in the Aeneid and later Eve in Paradise Lost. "It is a high distinction that in Spenser, womanhood is presented, not as the source of evil, its presence and temptation, but as the inspiration to life for Artegal and the Red-Crosse Knighttt .3 The entire third book of The Faerie Queene is an ardent glorification of noble womanhood, a glowing account of the concept of t chastityt • Chastity is represented in the book of love by Britomart, the emblem knight of that virtue. She is its true embodiment. She is a norm, a i'!oman of glowing beauty, of passion but self-possession, of firmness and ~Qse judgment. She is gentle, courteous, unselfish and zealous in good ''!orks. -And because --she is established --in aIl these virtues, she is established in chastity. The other two women who play important roles in this book of chastity are Amoret and

31i'foodbury-, Variorum, III, 385. 78

Florimel, who are each, though an embodiment of chastity, slightly imperfect in sorne way as compared with the perfection of Britomart. The representative knight of chastity is perfect. Would it be true to assume, therefore, that the virtue which she represents is also perfect, and retains the highest place on the ascending scale of Spenser's attitude toward love? l think, with reservation, that the answer may be said to be 'yes'. Admittedly, 'chastity' has not been placed highest on the scale~ It is supereeded by the virtues of 'Platonic love' and 'Friendship'. But in one certain sense it may be shown that Spenser valued 'chaste love' as the highest form of affection between man and woman. 'Friendship' has been deemed, in this thesis, to be the highest fOTIn of love. .~d so it is. But it is not the highest form of love between ~ ~ woman, for friendship may exist correctly only between members of the sarne sex. A sworn friendship existing between a man and a woman was not commendable to Spenser's view, because it contained oilly the meeting of kindred minds and lacked aIl the fire and passion which Spenser he Id must exist in a~~ relationship between the sexes. This fire and passion, when carried to excess, or when indulged in to the exclusion of any other feeling of affection, is lustful love. But treated in moderation, and enjoyed in the company of tenderness and kindly feeling, passion in love was absolutely necessa~J to Spenser's view.

EQr the true and noble end of love between ~ ~ and ~ woman, according to Spenser, ~ marriage and generation. Any romantic pur suit for any 79

reason other than this was not commendable in his eyes. Thus 'Platonic love', to Spenser, was not the ideal type of relationship between man and vJOman. Ideally, 'Platonic love' is \"iorship of the lady by her adoring s"lain from afar, ,·Jithout hope of encouragement or success.

There is no thought of marriage or generation here. The entire relationship is on the same plane as that of a mortal with the gods.

Although Spenser held women in the highest esteem, his conception of the ideal love relationship bet"Jeen man and woman had no foundation in mere spiritual communion or in hopeless adoration.

The basis on l'lhich every love affair must stand l'las matrimony and fruitful progeny. In the most beautiful love poem he "!rote, the

Epithalamion, Spenser speaks of his love for his new bride, praising her beauty and grace, and warvelling that at last she is his.

Quite unlike the Platonic lover he thrills with delight at the thought of the approaching nupÙal couch, He sees the moon Cynthia, peeking through the window, and begs her:

Therefore to vs be faUorable nmJ'; And sith of womens labours thou hast charge, And Generation goodly dost enlarge, Encline thy 'V

Eternally bind thou this louely band, And all thy bleesings vnto vs impart. (Il. 396 - 397).

Even the Genius, '\..,.,ho aids young lovers "til they bring forth the 80

fruitful progenylt is commanded: Send vs the timely fruit of this same night. And thou fayre Hebe, and thou Hymen free, Grant that it may so be. (11. 404 - 406).

The poet cries out to the heave~~y gods:

Pour out your blessing on vs plentiously, And happy influence vpon vs raine, That we may raise a large posterity, vJhich from the earth, which they rnay long possesse, lüth lasting happinesse, Vp to your haughty pallaces rnay mount. (11. l~15-420). Britomart is Spenserts ideal of the perfect mortal woman.

She is the perfect combinat ion of ' .... omanly grace and manly courage: For she was full of amiable grace, And manly terrour 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 errour fal1; As he, that hath espide a vermeill Rose, To which sharpe thornes and breres the ~my forsta11, Dare not for dread his hardy hand expose, But ,dshing it far off, his idle vrl.sh doth lose. (111. i. 46).

It is true that Una is just as fair and virtuous; but Una, human as she is, is chiefly the representation of Truth. It is true that Belphebe is just as chaste and courageous, but she is a demi-goddess, nurtured by non-mortals. Britomart is a real woman, a human flesh and blood mortal who, as brave and virtuous as she is, as perfect as she is, always remains a true TtfOman who pities and fears and sobs and sighs, as any real woman is wont to do. Invincible in battle she may be, b ut he r woman t s hea rt i s ea sily t o rme nt ed.

Britomart has many qualities that set her apart from the 81

ordinary woman. She has been told of the future of her progeny by

Merlin. She knovlS that her heirs l'all rule Britain. Armed l'lith her enchanted spear and her shining armour, she rides forth in se arch of

Artegal, whose image was revealed to her as her future husband in

Merlin's magic mirror. Britomart is weil accomplished in knightly feats of arms. She rides magnificently, she has brave courage, and she jousts and tilts superbly. She overcomes Guyon, Marinell, Artegal,

Paridell and Busirane with quick and eas.y grace, and is the undisputed vanner of the Tournament of the Girdle. As she rides through Faery land redressing vlrongs and succouring the oppressed, she is invincible.

hThere then, is the noble vlOman Spenser so much admires?

Britomart, invincible as she is in her war-play, overcomes many more stout hearts with her breath-taking beauty. In the Castle Joyous she refuses to disarm, but doffs her visour before the company. The effect is clectrifying:

As when faire Cynthia, in darkesome night, Is in a noyous cloud enueloped, 1rJhere she may find the substaunce thin and light, Breakes forth her siluer beames, and her bright hed Discouers to the vl0rld discomfited; Of the poor trauller, that went astray, Vlith thousand blessings she is heried; Such was the beautie and the shining ray, ~'lith which faire Britomart gaue light vnto the day. (111. i. 43).

In l1albecco' s castle, Britomart doffs her helmet, and ,men she does 50, Her golden locks, that were in tramels gay Vpbounden, did them selues adowne display, And raught vnto her heeles; like sunny bea'l1es, That in a cloud their light did long time stay, 82

Their vapour vaded, shew their golden gleames, And through the persant aire shoote forth their azure streames. (Ill. ix. 20).

She removes her corselet, revealing herself as "the fairest \'lOman wight, that euer eye did see" (Ill. ix. 21). \'Jhen the company beholds her beauty,

theJr smitten \'lere ~üth great amazement of so wondrous sight, And each on other, and they aIl on her Stood gazing, as if suddein great affright Had them surprised. (Ill. ix. 23). Britomart and Amoret, after their ordeal with Busirane, stop at a castle during their travels. Here too, Britomart unlaces her heL~et,

~fIhich doft, her golden lockes, that were vp bound still in a knot, vnto her heeles downe traced, And like a silken veile in compasse round About her backe and aIl her bodie wound: Like as tpe shining skie in summers nieht, vJhat time the dayes with scorching hea~ abound, Is creasted aIl ~d th lines of firie light, That it prodigious seemes in common peoples sight. (IV. i. 13).

AlI the knights and ladies stand amazed at her beauty. In combat Britomart exercizes the same strange power over Artegal. He shears her helmet from her he ad l'lith a vicious blow, With that her angels face, vnseene afore, Like ta the ruddie morne appeard in sight, Dea\'red lvith siluer drops. (IV. vi. 19).

And round about the same, her yellow heare Hauing through stirring loosd their wonted band, Like to a golden border did appeare, Framed in golds~ithes forge with cunning hand: Yet goldsmithes cunning could not vnderstand To frame such subtile wire, so shinie cleare. For it did glister like the golden sand. (IV. vi. 20).

Artegal is helpless before her ravishing loveliness, and falls upon 83

his knees before her in "lOrshipful adoration. Beautiful as Britomart

is, the noble and virtuous loveliness of her character is even more

vibrantly apparent. In this lovely woman are all the delightful

at tributes of a truly virtuous and gentle:' lady. Spenser tells us that

men

meruaild at her cheualree, And noble prowess, l

no one can compare with her

AS1'lell for glory of great valiaunce, As for pure chastitie and vertue rare, Tha t all her goodly deeds do 1"1'ell de clare. (111. i v. 3).

Her virtuous chastity is offended at the gross behaviour of ~~lecasta,

so that she leaves the Castle Joyous hurriedly,

For nothing would she lenger there be stayd, \'1here 50 loose life, and so vngentle trade \\Jas vsd of Knights and Ladies seeming gent. (111. i. 67).

Spenser bids aIl women in love

of faire Britomart ensample take, That l'laS as trew in loue, as Turtle to her make. (111. ix. 2).

Such is the ID'ler of her virtue that she is the only one at the

Tournament of the Girdle to recognize the False Florimel for the

wanton hussy that she is, and refuse her as the prize for the tourney.

Her beauty, her Charming grace and her chastity are equalled

by her unfailiiJ,g courtesy. ~fu.en she cornes upon SCi,Jdamore lying in despair on the ground, 84

As if he l'lad bene slombring in the shade, • • • the braue f·:ayd would not for courtesy, Out of his quiet slomber him abrede, Nor seeme too suddeinly him to inuade. (111. xi. 8).

Like every truly kind 1

remembering only too clearly her o'\.'m agonized longing for Artegal.

Her heart fills with pitY for Scudamore and his unfortunate lady

vlhen he tells her his troubles,

\'Ihich \-men she heard, and saw the ghastly fit, Threatning into his life to make a breach, Both with great ruth and terrour she was smit. (Ill. xi. 12).

~fuen she hears of Amoret's torment at the hands of the vile enchanter, The '\.'larlike Damzell \-las empassiond sore, And said; Sir Knight, your cause is nothing lesse, Then is your sorro\-l, certes if not m01!~; For nothing so much pitty doth implore, As gentle Ladies helplesse misery. (111. xi. 18).

Her magnanimity and generosity to~ard those lesse fortunate than

herself are boundless. She offers to succour Amoret and fre~ her from her terrible bondage. In heart-felt gratitude, Scudamore exëlàims:

Ml gentlest knight a1iue, ••• l"n18.t huge heroicke magnanimity ~lels in thy bounteous brest? ~fuat couldst thou more, If she were thine, and thou as nov! am I? (lll. xi. 19).

Her ever,y gesture, her every thought, befits that of a gracious and virtuous lady. But Britomart is by no means a mere paragon of saintly virtues, a cold representative of perfection. She is a woman, and despite her manly heroics, her feminine qualities come to the fore in distressed moments. And in all her meetings with her lover Artegal, she is totally and entirely a woman in love.

She first exercises her wiles on the Red-Crosse Knight in a typically feminine manner. She knows that the Knight knows Artegal, and with all her cUl1..ning, she tries to find out as much about her lover as she can, without betraying her Oi'.'Tl Jnterest in the object of their conversation. She says that she is seeking

Tydings of one, that hath vnto me donne Late foule dishonour and reprochfull spight, The which l seeks to wreake, and Arthegal1 he hight. (111. ii. 8).

~·lomanlike, as soon as the untrue words are out, she wishes she had never said them. The Elfin knight tells her that she must be mistaken, since he knows Artegal to be a noble and virtuous knight. At this news,

The royall mayd \-TOX inly wondrous glad, To heare her Loue so highly magnifide, And ioyd that euer she affixed had, Her hart on knight so goodly glorifide, How euer finely she it faind to hide. (111. ii. 11). She is not yet aatisfied, and,

But to occasion him to further talke, To feed her humour with his pleasing stile, Har list in strifull termes with him to ba1ke, (111. ii. 12). she further insists that Artegal has wronged her, just for the perverse pleasure of hearing the Red-Crosse Knight deny it. The more protests he makes, the more pleased she is,

Yet list the same efforce with faind gaine say; So discord oft in Musick makes the sweeter laYe (111. ii. 15). Although she knows his lineaments by heart, and although she herself 86

has seen her lover in the m~gic mirror, she asks the knight to describe him to her, te have the pleasure of hearing his handsome form once more set before her.

Britomart is not al\~ys the brave and forthright ~rrior who acts immediately and surely on every occasion. As she and Scudamore

stand dismayed, 100 king at the bu~ing wall of fire that protects the house of Busirane, she turns to him liomanlike, and asks his advice:

therefore Sir kPight, Aread what course of you is safest dempt, And how ~le with our toe may come ta fight. (Ill. xi. 23).

\',1hen Glauce makes peace betv18en Britomart and Artegal and refers to their predestined love, BritoIJ1~rt blushes like ap.y coy school-girl in her first love affaire Artegal, by dint of persistent suit, ~rins her heart ab last,

Hml euer she her paynd with ,I,"omanish art To hide her Hound, that none might it pcrceiue. (IV. vi. 40).

Artegal, happy in his betrothal, seeks to leave his ne~l-found love to go once more on errands bf knightly valour throughout the country.

And like af'l.y neglected \-J'oman, Britomart is an.1loyed:

But her there~th full sore displeasd he found, And loth to leaue her late betrothed make, Her dearest loue full loth 50 shortly to forsake. (IY. vi. 42).

He assures her of his love, and at last she consents unwillingly to his departure,

ho\-! euer malcontent She inly were, and in her mind displeased. (IV. vi. 44). As he leaves, she finds excuses to delay his goi,.ng: 87

And by the way she sundry purpose found Of this or that, the time for to delay, And of the perils whereto he ... ras bound, The feare \'lhereof seem'd much to her affray: But a11 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, Uhich she forgot, whereby excuse to rrake: So loth she vlas his companie for to forsake. (lV. vi. 45).

Unlike the lustful lovers of the poem, noble Artegal is not stayed by feminine \\riles or fear of danger from exacting his knightly duties, and he departs.

Britowart's love is noble and chaste because her character is that of a virtuous l·roman who can inspire only an heroic love.

She has an equally chaste and noble partner in her lover Artegal, and their ultimate rrarriage and royal progeny blessed England ...;j.th many bf the bravest monarchs vrho ever reigned, and produced Spenser's sovereign, Elizabeth 1.

AlI four chaste1:lOmen in ~ Faerie Queene, Amoret,

Florimel, Britomart and Belphebe are beautiful, charming and gracious.

But in Britomart, Spenser includes the fairest attribute of each of the others. Britomart ,alone retains Florimel' s beauty, A.'lloret' s 'lrlOmanly charm and Belphebe's chastity. Britomart, and only Britomart is

Spenser's womanly ideal. This is not to say that the others are lacki~g in merit. Perhaps another man 'i'l"ould prefer either of the others.

But Britomart's retentiQn of each of the other's prim~ virtue, plus her ability to defend these virtues from the onslaught of lust by means of her heroic self-reliance, completely endeared her to Spenser.

She is 'o1:ni'iOlsly his favourite, as she is mine, a woman surpassing all others in l'JOmanly appeal. 88

CRAPTER VIII

CHASTE LOVE (CONTINUED)

The other important exponents of 'chaste love' in The Faerie Queene are Amoret and Florimel. l'hese women, chaste and virtuous as any two women can be, guard their virginity with great care, and remain true and faithful to their own loves. Yet, at certain times, although their actions and attitudes remain entirely irreproachable throughout, there is a certain hint, slight as it may be, that their characters are not quite as virtuously perfect as that of Britomart. Their good qualities, their charm and beauty, are shared in the character of Britomart, who encompas6es aIl their virtuous attributes, yet retains none of their weaknesses. Florimel is the personification of chaste beauty. Rer name itself', formed from the Latin words meaning 'flower' and 'honey', conveys the impression of delicate and helpless beauty. She is continually the object of passion, the beautiful and lovable recipient of indelicate advances. She might almost represent the misery of the object of un­ weloomepassion when it is excluded from marriage. She is continually, throughout the poern, in flight from danger, whether real or imagined.

Rer role is that of the representative of beauty, in aIl its evocative power, 50 that all men who see her are incited by love in different fOrfis, whether noble or base, in accordance with their own characters. 89

Our first meeting with Florimel oceurs at the beginning of book three, as she bursts from the brush before the startled group of Britomart, Arthur, Tinnnias and Guyon. Even her distress and obvious hurry do not hide her beauty. Her face is described as being "as cleare as Christall stone" (lll. i. 15), although it is dead white because of her fear. She passes the group so swiftly that she "scarse them leasure gaue, her passirtg to beholdU (Ill. i. 15). In a wonderful picture of fear, Spenser describes her as she fades from sight: Still as she fled, her eye she backward threw, As fearing euill, that pursewd her fast; And her faire yellow loeks behind her flew, Loosely disperst with puffe of euery blast. (Ill. i. 16). This recalls Coleridge's equally gripping illustration of the sarne emotion of fear: With sloping masts and dipping prow, As who pursued with yell and blow Still treads the shadow of his foe, And forward bends his head, The ship drove fast.l The reason for Florimel's hurried fear is obvious when the 'griesly Foster' appears in hot pursuit. Her beauty has so enflamed his senses, that His tyreling iade he fiercely forth did push, Through thicke and thin, both ouer banke and bush In hope her to attaine by hooke or crooke, That from his gorie sides the bloud did gush. (Ill. i. 17). 'l'he noble Arthur undertakes the connnission of saving Florimel, and

While Timmias gallops angrily after the forester, the prince pursues

IThe Ancient Mariner. 90

the frightened laqy, desperately calling to her to slacken her pace and recognize him as a friend. The hapless Florimel can do neither. But nothing might relent her hastie flight; So deepe the deadly feare of that foule swaine \vas earst impressed in her gentle spright: Like as a fearfull Doue, which through the raine, Of the wide aire her way does eut amaine, Hauing farre off espyde a Tassell gent, Which after her his nimble wings doth straine, Doubleth her haste for feare to be for-hent, And with her pineons cleaues the liquid firmament. (lll. iVe 49). She flees Prince Arthur with no less dread than from the basest villain, yet the knight means her no harm whatever. Yet former feare of being fowly shent, Carried her forward with her first intente And though oft looking backward, well she vewd, Her selte freed from that foster insolent, And that it was a knight, which now her sewd, Yet she no lesse the knight feard, then that villein rude. (lll. iVe 50). Arthur loses sight of her in the gathering gloom of night, and lies down to rest, expressing his disappointment and frustration in the bitterly melancholy lines that have been so grossly misinterpreted by so many critics: Oft did he wish, that Lady faire mote bee His Faer,y Queene, for whom he did camplaine: Or that his Faer,y Queene were such, as shee. (lll. iVe 54). How could any serious critic of Spenser ever misinterpret the poet's meaning in these three lines? Consider the situation. To gain glory and fame and to enhance his heavenly love for Gloriana, he has performed many services, rescuing damsels in distress, and succouring the unfortunate. He has been endeavouring to rescue Florimel, a beautiful and obviously helpless girl from the clutches of her own fear. And 91

he has failed miserably. He has broken the vow that he made on first seeing the Faer,y Queene in a vision, to serve her while he seeks her, aiding the people of her kingdom, and paying her the service of aIl his knightly feats of arms. His is the true noble love that

in braue sprite • • • kindles goodly fire, That to aIl high desert and honour doth aspire. (111. v. 1). No one can seriously believe that noble Arthur, one of the principal exponents of true, chaste love, could have allowed his love for Gloriana to wander and fade from his memor,y like any schoolboy's feelings, with the fleeting glimpse of a new and pretty facel No one can possibly proclaim that Arthur, in the despair of his disappointment, has suddenly entertained an overwhelming love and desire for Florimell The idea is absurde Examine the actual text: Oft did he wish, that Lady faire mote bee His Faery Queene, for whom he did complaine. (Ill. iVe 54). He often wished that Florimel were his Faer,y Queene, for whom he pined. Has no one before ever sat with an unwelcome companion, wishing with all his heart that some miracle would change her to the person of his true hopes and desires? Arthur would rather have Gloriana, his true love, near him than Florimel. "Or that his Faery Queene were such, as shee". This line does not mean that he wished that Gloriana were as beautiful and graceful as Florimel, nor does it mean that he wished that she were as enticing, or as bewitching as Florimel. It means only that he wished that his Faer,r Queene were as helpless and in as much 92

need of his heroic services, as close beside him, as Florimel is, so that he might serve her. Any knowledge of Spenser's intention of portraying Arthur as an exponent of true love, and any careful examination of the text will admit of no other interpretation. Florimel rnakes her next appearance in the home of the witch and her slothful son. She is able to put aside the hostile questioning of the witch with her soft, sweet nature, and raises pity even in that hard heart with her beauty and distress: With that adowne out of her Christall eyne Few trickling teares she softly forth let fall, That like two Orient pearles, did purely shyne Vpon her snowy cheeke; and therewithall She sighed soft, that none so bestiall, Nor saluage hart, but ruth of her sad plight Would rnake to melt, or pitteously appall; And that vilê Hag, aIl were her whole delight In mischiefe, was much moued at so pitteous sight. (Ill. vii. 9). Again, her beauty astonishes and bewilders. The witch was astonisht at her heauenly hew, And doubted her to deeme an earthly wight, But or sorne Goddesse, or of Dianes crew, And thought her to adore with humble spright; T'adore thing so diuine as beauty, were but right. (lll. vii. Il). But in her son, as in aIl base men, Florimel's beauty evokes a different emotion: the Chorle through her so kind And curteise vse coriceiu'd affection bace, And cast to loue her in his brutish mind; No loue, but brutish lust, that was 50 beastly tind. (Ill. vii. 15). 93

It is significant, that for all her helpless fear and terror, Florimel always retains her virtue and good name. At the witch's cottage, she is quick to sense the Churl's attitude toward her, and, using the only defense she knows, mounts her wear,y palfrey, and once more flees from impending danger.

The monster which the witch sends after her is a gris~ counterpart of the Blatant Beast of the Courtesy book, and in the ethical allegor,y may be construed to signify the rending and consuming force which besmirches a woman's reputation and destroys her good name. Characteristica~, Florimel leaps from the frying pan into the fire, from the jaws of a ravening beast into the lascivious lap of an aged lecher. Much like the heroine in The Perils of Pauline, she leaps heroical~ into the fisherman's boat, casts off from shore, and turns thankful~ in weak relief only to meet the unmistakable leers of the master & :h craft. Again, she struggles against this new assailant, and her valiant defense of her Yirginity is admirable. It is not Florimel's wanton looks or desires, her light thoughts or actions~ which betray her~ for indeed, she did not entertain them. It is her devastating beauty which has such a strange power over men that it is able to act as an indicator, revealing the character of the man who sees it, drawing forth base actions from a brutish churl, and prompting noble and chivalrous deeds in an heroiè mind. Again, she is saved, this time by Proteus, who rids her of the fisherman. Spenser calls the rescue an act of hesvenly providence: 94

See how the heauens of voluntary grace, And soue raine fauour towards chastity, Do succour send to her distressed cace: So much high God doth innocence embrace. (Ill. viii. 29). But Florimel does not trust her saviour. With the unerring certainty of a virtuous maid, she is distinctly uneasy.

Her selfe not saued yet from daunger dred She thought, but chaung'd from one to other feare; Like as a fearfull Partridge, that is fled From the Sharpe Hauke, which her attached neare, And faIs to ground, to seeke for succour theare, Whereas the hungry Spaniels she does spy, With greedy iawes her readie for to teare; In such distresse and sad perplexity Was Florimell, when Proteus she did see thereby. (111. viii. 33). Her fears are not unfounded. Proteus carries her off to his watery bower, and attenpts to induce her, first by seduction and then by force, to submit to his passion. Throughout grievous physical and mental torment, Florimel remains steadfast. When at last he plunges her into a dungeon with threats of eternal thraldom, she feels that Eterna11 thraldome was to her more liefe, Then losse of chastitie, or chaunge of loue: Die had she rather in tormenting griefe, Then any should of falsenesse her reproue, Or loosenesse, that she lightlY did remoue. (Ill, viii. 42). Spenser's praise and pity for Florimel throughout her ordeal is boundless: Most vertuous virgin, glory be thy meed, And crowne of heauenly praise with Saints aboue, Where most sweet hymmes of this thy famous deed Are still emongst them song, that far my r,ymes exceed. (111. viii. 42). 95

My hart doth melt with meere compassion, To think, how causelesse of her owne accord This gentle Damzell, whom l write vpon, Should plonged be in such affliction, Without all hope of comfort or relief, That sure l weene, the hardest hart of stone, Would hardly find to aggrauate her griefe; For miser.y craues rather mercie, then repriefe. (Ill. viii. 1). It is difficult to visualize Florimel as she appears in the poem. She is etched ver.y faintly-a pale, fragile creature, who fades almost into insignificance before the brilliant and arresting features of Britomart or Belphebe. We can see Britomart mounted upon her horse, resplendent in her shining armour, brandishing her enchanted spear, or throwing herself in a jealous rage upon her bed and weeping stormily in a furious passion. We can see Belphebe, dazzling in her hunting dress of green, her golden hair flying in the wind as she bends bow and arrow to the chase. But we can never actually see Florimel. She is forever scurrying over the hills on her white palfrey, peeking timidly from the safety of sorne friendly tree or fleeing in terror just beyond the scope of our vision, as though she were painted on a tapestr.y, vanishing amidst a labyrinth of dark trees and leering attackers. The cause of it aIl is her flower-like beauty which is at once her most pleasing attribute and the cause of her misfortunes. She possesses the beauty and virtue of the truly chaste woman, but lacks the self-reliance and positive power of a virtue such as that of Britomart. In the character of Amoret we find a ver.y interesting problem, an apparently insoluble one, since each critic prefers his own distinctly differnet interpretation. As is usual in these cases, each deserves sorne 96

merit, for each has touched upon what seems to be the truth, even if his hypothesis· cannot be accepted in its entirety. The problem, of course, centres a~u1;; the allegorical interpretation of the character of Busirane, and his relationship with Amoret. From her very name, Amoret' s character may be imagined. It is the emotion of love which rule this lady's actions and which supplies her greatest asset -- her womanly chann. Warren says that Amoret "can love only, love always, endure ail things for love, and love but onen•2 She too, like Florimel, lacks the self-reliance and self­ protective powers of Britomart. She too is tortured cruelly at the hands of lustful. characters. But bhere is one significant difference. The two creatures who torture her, the monster Lust and Busirane, are personifications of lust itself. They are not merely lust-driven men who seek sensual satisfaction. They are allegorical figures, whose office is so subtli · suggested by Spenser that it is difficult to determine their actual purpose in the story.

The character of Busirane may be interpreted in three ways. He may be an outside force, independent of any othercharacter; he may represent the uncontrolled lustfulelement in Amoret; or he may represent the lustful side of Scudamore's character. It is difficult to determine which is the correct solution.

2warren, Varionum, III, 389. 97

~~ny critics have taken the view that Busirane represents

the lustful side of Amoret's character.3 They have ample reason for their thetlry. Amoret was nurtured by Psyche and Venus in the Garden of Adonis. She was taught aIl the lore of womanhood and of love. It is very possible that her upbringing prevented her from transcending the physical in her passion for Scudamore. The fact that Britomart alone cannot free her without the recantation from the enchanter himself gives

sorne indication that ~sirane represents sorne inclination toward lust on the part of Amoret herself. This of course would not be lust in the sense in which we have used the term, but an over-emphasis on the sexual side of marriage, with a lack of the proper attention due the spiritual side. Janet Spens' contention that Amoret's sufferings in the House of Busirane represent the mental sufferings of a young wife in .onsequence of the too lustful element in the bridegroom's passion for

her, is ridiculous.4 Ydss Spens should bear in mind the fact that Amoret and Scudamore are very much in love, and that undue emphasis placed on the wedding-night of any newly married couple is alwa:ys misplaced. There is one great difficulty in the theory that Busirane represents Amoret's valuing the sexual above the spiritual in marriage.

3'H.S.V. Jones, ! Spenser Handbook (New York, 1930), p. 213; Dodge, Variouum, III, P. 316; Padelford, Variorum, III, p. 326; Woodhouse, Nature and Grace in ~ Faerie Queene, reprinted from ELH, A Journal of English Literary History, vol. 16, no. 3, Sept. 1949, p. 215. 4 Janet Spens, Spenser's.Faerie Queene (London, 1934)~ p. 104. 98

Spenser makes it very clear that Amoret was stolen from the marriage feast while still a virgin: For that same vile Enchauntour Busyran, The very selle same day that she was wedded, Amidst the bridaI feast, whilest euery man Surcharg'd with wine, were heedlesse and ill hedded, AlI bent to mirth before the bride was bedded, Brought in that mask of loue which late was sho,",en. (IV. i. 3). Spenser tells us again and again of his pity for Amoret and defends her chastity on every conceivable occasion: Of louers sad calamities of old, Full many piteous stories doe remaine, But none more piteous euer was ytold, Then that of Amorets hart-binding chaine, And this of Florimels vnworthie paine: The deare compassion of whose bitter fit MY softened heart 50 sorely doth constraine, That l with teares full oft doe pittie it, And oftentimes doe wish it neuer had bene writ. (IV. i. 1). He says that she is without fault in aIl her misadventures: And now she is with her vpon the way, Marching in louely wise, that could deserue No spot of blame, though spite did oft assay To blot her with dishonor. (IV. i. 4). It is obvious that Amoret is as lovely and as intentionally chaste as Florimel, but it is equally apparent that, just as Florimel's devastating beauty led her into desperate trouble, so Amoret' s womanly charm, her feminine warmth which she had been taught to exhibit in the Garden of Adonis, almost proves to be her undoing. Amoret loves to love. She has been taught from infancy the ways and means of womanhood and feminine 99

attractiveness. She has that certain something which is irresistible in any woman, which captivates and entices wherever it is seen. Like Florimel's beauty, it i5 awonderful gift. But, as in the case of the other, it brings sorrow as weIl. The lesson that Spenser teaches in his delineation of the characters of Amoret and Florimel is that chastity is a positive virtue. These two women, unlike Britomart, are disciplined chastity. They are essentially chaste, but lack one attribute which would free them from the bondage of lustful attack. This attribute is self-reliance. If either of these girls learned to kick and scratch, or could carry in their bodices a small dagger orpistol, the solution would be a simple one. Spenser is telling us that chastity is not a passive virtue, as many of us have been led to believe. To Spenser, passivity was vice, and activity virtue. So, in the Bower of Bliss, lustful love reclines passively and seductively, awaiting satisfaction. The pict ure of lust held by most people is that of a panting brute charging after a fleeing female. The common picture of chastity is one of abstention. Spenser reverses these commonly conceived notions. To him, lust is passivity. Chastity i5 an actively performing virtue. So, in direct contrast with the lassitude of the Bower of Bliss, the Garden of Adonis is vibrant with life: there is the first seminarie Of aIl things, that are born to liue and die, According to their kindes. Long worke it were, Here to account the endlesse progenie Of all the weedes, that bud and blossome there. (Ill. vi. JO). 100

The Gardener need not plant anything here: for of their owne accord AlI things, as they created were, doe grow, And yet remember well the mightie word, Which first was spoken bythtAlmightie lord, That bad them to increase and multiply. (Ill. vi. 34). Many creatures are bred here, of all shapes and sizes. Birds, beasts, and fish are aIl set out in teeming racks for all to view. They are sent into the world to replenish its stock, but their number in the Garden never diminishes. Nothing ever decays or dies, but merely changes into another forme The weather remains an eternal spring, yet there is also continuaI harvest. Everything in the Garden signifies birth and generation. It is filled with active, teeming life, engendering yet more life~ This is the true function of cha st ity, which significantly makes its home in the Garden of Adonis. 101

CHAPTER IX

PLATONIC LOVE

'Platonie love' i5 almost a religious cult. The worshipper is the adoring male who idolizes his lady almost to the point of actual religious worship. There is no traee of heresy here, however, sinee the young lover identifies his love for the laqy with his love for Divine Beauty or Goodnes5. The true Platonie ideal renouneed earthly love. A man was permitted to love a woman, but he was expected to pass from love of

her beauty to love of beauty in all women, and from thenee to a love of universal beauty, and ultimately to a love of the Divine Beauty of God. As he passed through these different stages, much as a man passes from one rung of a ladder to the next in his upward journey, he was expeeted to renounce what he had formerly experienced, to leave aIl mundane and physieal love for his original lady behind, and eontemplate onJ.y the divine.

The neo-Platonists followed this view but differed sharply on one point. They did not renounee their love of the original lady, nor did they decry or abandon the physical element in their love. 102

It is seen, from Spenser's feelings about chaste love, that he too did not reject the physical in his contemplation of the love of his laqy. But there are two great love affairs in The Faerie Queene that are distinctly Platonic in tone. These are the relation- ships between Arthur and Gloriana, and between Belphebe and Timmias.

Spenser himself, in An awmne of Heavenby Be~vtie, expresses the neo-PLatonic point of view: it plainly may appeare, That still as euer.y thing doth vpward tend, And further is from earth, so still more cleare And faire it growes, till to his perfect end Of purest beautie, it at last ascend. (11. 43-47). It is significant that the two pairs of lovers who represent this ideal of Platonic love are closely related. Timmias is Arthur's squire and vassal; Belphebe and Gloriana were created with one purpose in mind -- to glorify the name of Elizabeth: Ne let his faire st Cynthia refuse, In mirrours more then one her selfe to see, But either Gloriana let her chuse, Or in Belphoebe fashioned to bee: In th'one her rule, in th'other her rare chastitée. (Ill. 5). Arthur's love for Gloriana is definitely Platonic in tone. He has seen her only in a vision, yet he sobs and pines for her sight.travelling throughout the land of Faer.y seeking her. He performs heroic feats of arms in her name and service, and often despairs of ever actually meeting her: From that day forth l lou'd that face diuine; From that day forth l cast in carefull mind, To seeke her out with labour, and long tyne, And neuer vow to rest, till her l find, Nine monethes l seeke in vaine yet ni'll that vow vnbind. (1. ix. 15). 103

When attention is paid the ethica1 a11egory of the poem, Arthurts P1atonic function becomes apparent. According to Spenserts intention as written in his 1etter to Raleigh, Arthur signifies magnificence in particular, which vertue for that (according to Aristot1e and the rest) it is the perfection of all the rest, and conteineth in it them all, therefore in the who1e course l mention the deedes of Arthure app1yab1e to that vertue, which l write of in that booke.1

The Faery Queene is "glory in my generall intention, but in my particular l conceiue the most excellent and glorious person of our soueraine the Queene, and her kingdome in Faery land.n2 Therefore the historica1 al1egory identifies Arthur as Leicester and Gloriana as the Queen Elizabeth; the ethica1 allegory as V,agnificence and G1ory. It is the moral al1egory in which we are particularly interested. In this, Spenser tells us nothing. It would be safe to surmise, however, that Gloriana represents to Spenser Heavenly Beauty or Goodness, and that Arthur is the human soul searching for this divine quality. Dante, in his ~ Nuova,3 enjoys almost the sarne relation- ship with Beatrice, as Arthur does with the Faery Queene. He has seen the lady only nine times in his entire 1ife, but from his first meeting with her, which occurred when they were both only nine years old, he has entertained a hopeless passion for her. Everything about their

ISpenser, p. 407. 2Spenser, p. 407. 3üante, The New Life of Dante Alighieri, transI. by Charles Eliot i'!ortonTCambridp:e, 1892). 104

relationship suggests her semi-divine powers. On first seeing her, he

is moved to exclaim: ItBehold a god st ronger than l, who coming shall rule over me. tl4 His soul tells him, tlnow has appeared your blissu) He next

sees her nine years later, and says, tlShe seems not the daughter of

mortal man, but of Godu•6 He falls into the deepest melancholy:

After this vision mY natural spirit began to be hindered in its operation, for mY soul was wholly given over to the thought of this most gentle lady; whereby in brief time l fell into so frail and feeble a condition, that my appearance was grievous to many of my friends; and many full of envy eagerly sought to lmm·; from me that which above aIl l wished to conceal from others.7

He tells no one of his love and goes to great lengths to conceal it,

even from the lady herself. Once some ladies, who have discovered his

secret, ask him the purpose of his love for Beatrice, since he faints

and weeps in her presence. He ~ers:

11Y ladies, the end of my love was formerly the salutation of this lady of whom you perchance are thinking, and in that dwelt the beatitude which was the end of all my desires. But since it has pleased her to deny lt to me, my lord Love, thro~h his grace, has placed aIl DVbeatitude in that which cannot fail me. He cares only about seeing her and worshipping her from afar. He

has not the slightest notion of any relationship more intimate than this.

AlI the tvwnspeople said of Beatrice: tlThis is not a woman; rather

she is one of the most beautiful angels of heaventl , and ItShe is a marvel.

4Dante, p. 2. 5 Dante, p. 2. 6 Dante, p. 3. 7 Dante, p. 7. 8 Dante, p. 32, 33. 105

B1essed be the Lord who can work thus adnûrablylU9 Beatrice dies in the first hour of the ninth day of the ninth month in the year, and Dante is inconsolable in his grief. After some time he almost fa11s in love with another woman, but the thought of Beatrice forbids this desire. He formulates his purpose in 1ife: A wonderful vision appeared to me, in which l saw things which made me reso1ve to speak no more of this b1essed one, unti1 l could more readily treat other. And to attain to this, l study to the utmost of rrw power, as she truly knows. So that, if it sha11 p1ease Him through whom a11 things live, that rrw 1ife be pro10nged for sane years, l hope to say of her what was never said of any woman. And then may it p1ease Him who is the Lord of Grace, that my soulmay go to beho1d the glor.y of its 1aqy, namely, of that B1essed Beatrice, who in glory looks upon the face of Him qui est per omnia soecula benedictus (who is b1essed forever).10 He keeps his vow, and dedicates his greatest poem, the Divine Comedy to her memOIY. It is through love of her, a morta1 woman, that he is 1ed to contemplation of the divine love of God and at 1ast i8 admitted to Paradise.

The most obviously P1atonic re1ationship in ~ Faerie Queene is that of Be1phebe and Timmias. Her first appearance in this relationship occurs during her discover.y of Timmias lying morta1ly wounded from the b10ws of the three foresters. At his piteous sight she grew Full of soft passion and vnwonted smart: The point of pittY perced through her tender hart. (111. v. 30).

9Dante, p. 60. lODante, pp.89, 90. 106

Her role as saviour of Timmias automatically raises her above him, and lifts her beyond his reach. She is no hapless frightened Florimel in this situation. Quiently and competently she gathers woodland herbs and compounds them like a veritable physician. She binds his wound and he awakens to gaze on her lovely face. At once, his words displace her from the realm of mortal women: Mercy deare Lord (said he) what grace is this, That thou hast shewed to me sinfull wight, To send thine Angell from her bowre of blis, To comfort me in my distressed plight? Angell, or Goddesse do l call thee right? (lll. v. 35). He pledges himself to her service: What seruice may l do vnto thee meete, That hast from darkenesse me returnd to light, And with thy heauenly salues and med'cines sweete, Has drest my sinfull wounds? l kisse thy blessed feet. (111. v. 35). She denies her heavenly lineage, and protests that she is but obeying the heroic code of honour in succouring wretched men. But Spenser's description of her gives every indication of her god-like state: Eftsoone there stepped forth A goodly ladie clad in hunters weed, That seemd to be a woman of great worth, And by her stately portance, borne of heauenly birth. (11. iii. 21). Her face so faire as flesh it seemed not, But heauep~ pourtraict of bright Angels hew. (11. iii. 22).

Although her beauty kindles lust in many men, her majestic mien quenehes all their desire. Only good and honour dwell in her breast, and her words drop like sweet hbney with a sound of heavenly music. 107

The Graces endowed her with heavenly gifts: So glorious mirrhour of celestiall grace, And soue raine moniment of mortall vowes, How shall fraile pen descriue her heauenly face, For feare through want of skill her beautie to disgrace? (11. iii. 25). Such is the power of her grace and beautie, that at their first meeting Trompart is moved to address her as "Goddess". Braggadocchio is not so awed, and, burning with lust, moves to catch her in his arms. As quick as light, Belphebe bas her javelin before her as protection, and in a moment she is gone. Belphebe states her code of life emphatical1y: Where ease abounds, yt's eath to doe amis; But who his limbs with labours, and his mind Bebaues with cares, cannot so easie mis. Abroad in armes, at home in studious kind Who seekes with painfull toile, shall hono~ soonest find. (11. iii. 40). Timmias, in bis hopeless love for her, saw all these tbings clearly: still when her excellencies he did vew, Her soueraigne bounty, and celestiall hew, The sarne to loue he strongly was const'rainE!: But when bis mean estate he did reuew, He from such hardy boldnesse was restraind, And of bis lucklesse lot and cruell loue thus plaind. (Ill. 5.44). To Timmias, as indeed to ail Platonic lovers, bis love was an insult and a blot on the lady' s fair name. He berates himself for having taken advantage of her kindness to him: Vnthankfull wretch (said he) is tbis the meed, With which her soueraigne mercy thou doest quight? Thy lire she saued by her gracious deed, But thou doest weene with vi11einous despight, To blot her honour, and her heauenly light, (111. v. 45). He prefers death to shame for bis lady. Yet he cannot be ungrateful. Torn between two desires, he resolves to adore her from afar and serve 108

her to the death. As we have already seen, bis service is not one of heroic feats of arms, as befits a young man truly in love. Instead, he lies in dolour and despair, bis arms rusting in disuse, living the lonely and useless life of a recluse. It is not difficult to assay Spenser's meaning in depicting the character of Belphebe. The poet clearly reveals the purpose of her creation: Eternall God in bis almighty powre, To make ensample of bis heauenly grace, In Paradize wbilome did plant this flowre, ~fuence he it fetcht out of her natiue place, And did it stocke of earthly flesh enrace, That mortall men her glory should admire. (ill. v. 52). Belphebe surmounts even the noble Britomart in her pure divinity of character. She has been taken from heavenly Paradise and placed on earth to enrich our feeble human spirits and to evoke the admiration of men for celestial glory. She is almost an angel, a heavep~ representative placed here on earth for our salvation. She is the most beautiful, courageous, chaste, courteous, most blessedly perfect woman Spenser has created, and as such, she is the perfect BXponent of the idealof tPlatonic love'. 109

CHAPTER X

FRIENDSHIP

We come now to the top-most rung on our ladder of love, the

highest and most commendable form of love, the virtue of friendship. Spenser opens canto nine, book four, with an exp1icit statement concerning his classification of different forms of love. There are three main types of love: natural affection for blood relations, passionate love or 1ust, and friendship. Spenser is definite in stating which of the three is the most virluous, For natural1 affection soone doth cesse, And quenched is with Cupids greater flame: But faithfull friendship doth them both supresse, And them with maystring discipline doth tame, Through thoughts aspyring to eternall fame. (lV. ix. 2). Friendship, then is one type of love, and to Spenser's mind it occupied the highest place of aIl among the different attitudes toward love. This attitude is very similar ta that of Cicero: "friendship is superior to relationship because from relationship benevo1ence can be withdrawn, and from friendship it cannot: for with the withdrawl of benevolence the very name of friendship is done away, while that of

relationship remains.nl He adds that nothing better "has been bestowed

on man by the immorlal gods" than friendship.2 lCicero, "De Amicitia", Three Books of Offices, translated by Cyrus R. Edmonds (London, 1990), p.:l80. 2Cicero, p. 180. 110

The entire fourth book i8 an exposition, containing different attitudes and examples of friendship, both good and bad, exemplified by pairs of characters to whom friendship is, or is not, possible. These characters are influenced in friendship by allegorica1 abstractions who attack them as outside forces and who exert their power so that they excite either concord or discord in friendship according to their individual natures.

Primarily, according to Spenser, friendship can exist only between good men: For vertues onely sake, which doth beget True loue and faithfull friendship, (IV. vi. 46). '"For vertue is the band, that bindeth harts most sure." (117. ii. 29). In this belief he adheres closely to Aristote1ian dogma: nThe perfect form of friendship is that between the good, and those who resernble each other in virtue.tt3 Cicero said: nvirtue itself both begets and constitutes friendship; nor without this virtue can friendship exist at a11.n4

The existence of friendship is between two persons o~~y, and these two people must be extremely similar in physical appearance and moral and ethical thought: For Loue is a celestiall harmonie, Of likely harts5

3Aristot1e, Nicomachean Ethics, transl. by H. Rackham (London, 1926), 4:9. 186. _. Cicero, D. 180. 5Spenser,' "An Hymne in Honovr of Beavtie", Il. 197-98. 111

Elyot, when he described the two ideal friends, Titus and Gisippus, said that they were "equal in years, in stature, in proportion of body, in favour and colour of visage, in countenance and speechn•6 Spenser also upheld the doctrine that friends have but one soule Even the three rivers attending the marriage of the Thames and the Medway are significant, "so flowing aIl from one, aIl one at last become".

(IV. xi. 43). Plato had already given attention to the idea. In the "SymposiUJ!l",

Aristophanes says that "the sexes were not t~ro as they are now, but originally three in number; there was man, woman, and the union of the t"!.o.ro" • They de sired to rule the heavenly kingdom, and Zeus, to prevent it, cut them in half.

After the division the two parts of man, each desiring his other half, came together, and thrOl.n.ng their arms about one another, ent\nned in mutual embraces, longing to grow into one. They were on the point of dying from hunger and self-negltct, because they did not like to do ap~hing apart.7 The final rnaxim held by Spenser is that false friendship cannot last: Ne certes can that friendship long endure, How euer gay and goodly be the style, That doth ill cause or euill end enure: For vertue is the band, that bindeth harts most sure. (IV. ii. 29). So too, Plato believed that fate had ordained that there be no friendship among the evil.8

6Thomas Elyot, The Governour (London, 1531), p. 166. 7Plato, "Symposium", The Dialo~ues of Plato, transI. by B. Jowett (Oxford, 1924~I, p. 559. 8plato, "Phaedrus", p. 462. 112

Cicero states that" • • • we expect from our friends only ",hat is honourable, and for our friend's sake do what is honourable,,9 for

he believed that "friendship l'laS given us by Nature as the hand.TtJaid of virtues, and not as the companion of our vices.nlO

These, then, are the precepts under which friendship may

existe Any situation contrar,y to these ideals would be detrimental to

the existence of true friendship.

The first pair of true friends treated in the fourth book

is that of Britomart and Amoret. Britomart shows her concern and care

~r Amoret by resuuing her from Busirane, by fighting for her at the

court, and by watching and guarding her tenderly as they travel through

the forest. They are both virtuous women, steadfast, constant and chaste.

They are alike in many ways, sleeping together and sharing with each other

all their common desires and adventures:

they of their loues did treat, And hard aduentures twixt themselues alone, That each the otiler gan 'Id.th passion great, And griefull pittie priuately bemone. (IV. i. 16). Bach of them is extremely beautiful, each very much in love with the one man she is seeking. Their virtue and similitude permits them to be true friends.

~ Cicero, p. 189 10Cicero, p. 203. 113

Cambell and Triamond are the emblem-knights of this book of

friendship, and they are represented as the perfect pair of friends.

At one time they were fierce enemies, but their hate turned ta fast friendship when Triamond won Cambèll' s sister in marriage. They are

bath virtuous knights, well-versed in the skills and curtesies of

knight-errantry, bold and valiant in battle. They are equal in many respects, sa much sa that when Triamond is unable ta enter the lists is the tournament of the girdle on the second day, Caœbell takes his

armour and

on himselfe did dight, That none could him discerne, and sa wentrol-thtofight. (IV. iVe 27).

Cambell is subsequently captured in the tournament and when Triamond hears ,. of this he arises like a true friand ta aid Cambell. He finds his

armour missing and dons CambellJs. He rescues his friend and is

awarded the prize for the second day, but

Triamond ta Cambell it relest, And Cambell it ta Triamond transferd; Each labouring t'aduance the others gest, And make his praise before his owne preferd. (IV. lx. 36). Their selflessness and generosity enables them ta be labelled true friends. These men are equal in strength as weIl as in virtue and appearance. h'hen they fight in mortal enmi ty for the hand of Canacee, each is lli1able ta defeat the other. At last Cambina profters to each a cup of magic liquid, 114

Of which so soone as they once tasted had, Wonder it is that sudden change to see: Instead of strokes, each other kissed glad, And louely haulst from feare of treason free, And plighted hands for euer friends to be. (lV. iii. 49). Cambina and Canacee, the sisters of Cambell and Triamond, enjoy the same virtuous friendship: Couragious Cambell, and stout Triamond, With Canacee and Cambine linckt in louely bond. (lV. ii. 31). The lovely and virtuous women rejoice together at the end of their brothers' battle, And wise Cambina taking by her side Faire Canacee, as fresh as morning rose, Vnto her Coch remounting, home did ride. (IV. iii. 51). The four friends theire daies they spent In perfect loue, deuoide of hatefull strife, Allide with bands of mutuall couplement; For Triamond had Cana cee to wife, With whom he ledd a long and happie life; And Cambel tooke Cambina to his fere, The which as life were each to other liefe. So all alike did loue, and loued were, That since their days such louers were not found elswhe~e. (IV. iii. 52). The friendship of Diamond, Priamond and Triamond seems at first glance to violate the classical precept that true friends exist ooly in pairs. However, it must be remembered that these three knights are brothers, and the bond which joins them is as much one of natural affection as of acquired love. They are extremely virtuous men: Thrise happie mother, and thrise happie mom, That bore three such, three such not to be fond. (IV. ii. 41). 115

Each was as hardy and sldlful in feats of arms as the next, a1l equal in bravery, prowess and strength. They 10ved one another dear~,

And with so firme affection were allyde, As if but one soule in them al1 did dwell, Which did her powre into three parts diuyde. (lV. ii. 43).

That but one soul dwelt in the three knights is c1ear~ il1ustrated in the joust with Cambell, where when Priamond is ldlled, bis soul unites with Diamondts and when he is killed, the three souls combine in the person of Triamond. It is a clear illustration that true friends have but one soul.

Amyas and Placidas are so equal in physical appearance that when Poeanats Dwarf discovers Placidas, he reports it to bis mistress, mistaldng the lmight for bis friend, IIfor neuer two so like did liuing creature seert (lV. viii. 55). He is brought before Poeana., who makes the same mistake, and suffers imprisonment in order to see bis dear friend. Later, when An\Yas i5 released and Poeana sees the two together, she

Began to doubt, when she them saw embrace, Which was the captive Squire 5he loutd so deare, Deceiued through great 1ikenesse of their face, For they 50 1ike in person did appeare, That she vneath discerned, whether whether weare. (lV. ix. 10).

Tbis pair of friends illustrates clearly the power of true friendsbip wbich is able to supplant even the truest love of woman. Placidas says of Anijras:

Aemylia weIl he loutd, as l mote ghesse; Yet greater loue to me then her he did professe. (lV. viii. 57). 116

So great is their friendship, that P1acidas willingly takes Amyast place in thraldom 50 that his friend might gain his freedom. Poeana, unable to distinguish between the two knights, receives Placidas. Placidas is not bound to any love, as was Amyas, and so he accepts Poeanats love, but for expediency only, and not for any sentiment or .feeling for her. A1l these examples are illustrations ot true friendships, entered into by virtuous and noble characters. Their own goodness enabled them to enjoy such a relationship. In the Temple of Venus, Spenser mentions a list of Classical friends who, because of their unselfish devotion to each other, will never be forgotten. They are Hercules and HyIas, Jonathan and David, Theseus and Pirithous, Pylades and Orestes, Titus and Gesippus and

Damon and Pythias. These men will live torever, as will aIl true friends, "whose loues although decaytd, yet loues decayed neuer.tt (IV. x •• 27). Among the many pairs of friènds treated in book four,

Spenser includes many false ones. In each case, their friendship fails to remain true because of some inherent evil in the personality of one or the other. This evil ia otten magnified by some external torce creating discord, which seizes upon the evil inherent in the character, and plays upon it, thus making concord within the friendship impossible. The relationship between Blandamour and Paridell is an example ot false friendship. On close examination of the characters ot these 117

two knights, one is not surprised to learn that there is disharmony

between them. 1"[e have already learned that Paridell is a light-01.10ve,

a false and inconstant paramour who

his false nets dispred, ~[ith which he many weake harts had subdewed Of yore, and many had ylike a~sled. (Ill. x. 9).

"He nould be clogd" by any ,'/Oman. vJh~n he abandons Hellenore after

she has servéd his lustful purpose, hè is disobeying bis knightly

orders which command him to show '!honour and respect to ladies" .11

Paridell is guilty of yet another sin. His is one of the seven dead~

sins e~~ibited in the House of Pride:

Yet Paridell him enuied therefore, As seeming pIast in sole felicity: So blind is Iust, false colours to desc~J. (IV. ii. Il).

The sin of En~J was one of the most horrible known to men and bred

aIl sorts of foul evils, even more ~~cked than itself.

In the House of Pride, Envy is pictured as the companion of

raging wrath, riding on a ravenous wolf

and still did chaw Betweene his cankred teeth a venemous tode, That all the poison ran about his chaw; But im'fardly he Chal'fed his mme ma"!of At neighbours wealth, that made him euer sad; For death it was, when any good he sa\

IlNeilson, p. 201. 118

He was dressed in a discoloured kirtle imprinted with hundreds of eyes. And in his bosome secretly there lay .An batefull Snake, the which his taile vptyes In many folds, and mortall sting implyes. (1. iVe 31). As he rode, he forever gnashed his teeth, gazing enviously at the heaps of gold which Avarice held in his bands, and begrudging the gaiety of Lucifera and ail the company. He bated aIl good workes and vertuous deeds, And him no lesse, that any like did vse. (1. iVe 32). "So euery good to bad he doth abuse". He accuses the giver of bread to the hungry of giving alms because of want of faith, and spightfull poison spues From leprous mouth on ail, tbat euer writt. (1. iVe 32).

Spenser personifies the vice of Envy in the book of Justice, where she is lhisshapen, an old and foul bag, her hair banging loosely about her wan face, the outline of her bones showing through her cheek. Her bands were foule and durtie, neuer washt In ail her life, with long nayles ouer raught, Like puttocks clawes: with th'one of which she scracht Her cursed head, (V. xii. 30). In her other band she held a sbakilwith 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 descry The bloudie gore and poyson dropping lothsomely. (V. xii. 30). 119

It was her nature

to grieue, and grudge at all, That euer sh~ sees doen prays-worthily. (V. xii. 31).

At the sight of noble deeds or good fortune of another she "vexeth 50, that makes her eat her gall" (V. xii. 31). If she heard of good to any man then she would

inly fret, and grieue, and teare Her flesh for felnesseJ (V. xii. 32).

But if she heard of barm to anyone, then

would she make Great cheare, like one vnto a banquet bidj And in anothers losse great pleasure take. (V. xii. 32).

This, then, is the reason for Paridell's lack of true friendship. othis is the vile sin which made

His hart with secret enuie gan to swell, And inJy grudge at him, that he bad sped so weIl. (lV. ii. 7).

The faults of Paridell, which make friendship impossible for him are inconstancy and envy. His false friend Blandamour is as evil as he.

His very name gives us an insight into bis character. It is 'bland amour' or 'flattering love', a picture at the outset of false, cajoling friendship, offered only for his own gain. He is an avowed braggart and boaster, and deliberately flaunts bis prize before bis friend in order to arouse bis jealousy:

And shewing her, did Paridell vpbray; Lo sluggish Knight the victors happie pray: So fortune friends the bold. (lV. ii. 7). 120

He was as false as Paridell in the sense that "his ficlde mind (was) full of inconstancie" (IV. 1. 32). Spenser says that his companions were "of like quality" and that he cannot tell who was more false of the three, Blandamour, Paridell or Duessa. It is obvious that the inconstant and envious Paridell and the equally inconstant and boastful Blandamour could never achieve true friendship. Spenser tells us that when they fall out, they fight bitterly, So mortall was their malice and so sore, Become of fayned friendship which they vow'd afore. (lV. ii. 18). So too, âlnce Scudamore is a brave and true Knight, while Paridell is evil, is friendship impossible between them and they fight bitterly. Duessa and Ate are an equally evil pair. Spenser says of them that Ladies none they were, albee in face And outward shew faire semblance they did bear; For vnder maske of beautie and good grace, Vile treason and fowle falshood hidden were, That mote to none but to the warie wise appeare. (IV. i. 17).

Duessa is the same evil person that plagued the Red-Crosse Knight in the book of Holiness, except That now had chang'd her former wonted hew: For she could d'on so manie shapes in sight, As euer could Cameleon colours new: So could she forge aIl colours, saue the trew. (lV. i. 18). 121

Spenser tells us that Ate no .,.lhit better was then shee, But that such as she .,.ras, she plaine did shewe; Yet othe~~se much worse, if worse might bee, And dayly more offensiue vnto each degree. (lV. i. 18). These two vile creatures are emblems of discord and they behave exactly in the opposite m~~ner to the actions of gentle ladies, as they incite Blandamour and Paridell to mortal battle for the love of the False Florimel: And that which is for Ladies most besitting, To stint all strife, and foster friendly peace, l'las from those !:James so farre and so vnfitting, As that in stead of praying them surcease, They did much more their crue Ity encrease; Bidding them fight (lV. ii. 19). fhey are obviously diametrically opposed to true friendship. Poeana and Placidas have a very odd relationship. At first they are enemies, placed in the role of captor and captive respectively. At last Poeana has a change of heart and they become friends and marry.

The reason for their enmity at the out set is their selfishness and self-interest which overcomes any feeling of kindness and love which they might have felt for each other. Placidas has taken his friend Amyas' place in prison and is called before his jailor in his stead. Poeana makes love to him which he says

I, that was not bent to former loue, As was my 'friend, that had her long refused, Did ~'lell accept. (1V. viii. 60). 122

He returns Poeana's embraces and accepts her love, but only because

weil i t did behoue, And to the present neede it wisely vsd. (~V. viii. 60).

Thus he made use of her love and pretended to return it, solely in

order to allay her suspicions so that he might escape from her irnprisonment. At the sarne time, much as Poeana loved Amyas, she is too full of self love to be a true friend. For though she were most faire, and goodly Qyde, Yet she it ail did mar with cruelty and pride. (IV. ix. 14). Her pride and selfishness are her downfall, and added to the se faults was the fact that she giuen is to vaine delight, And eke too Ioose of life, and eke of loue too Iight. (IV. viii. 49).

Her love for Amyas is marred "through iealous passion" (IV. ix. 9) .at the

sight of Aemylia embracing him. Her character is unequa1 to the virtue of friendship. However, Prince Arthur prevails upon P1acidas to take her in marriage, and when he does so,

From that clay forth in peace and ioyous blis, They liutd together long without debate, Ne priuate iarre, ne spite of enemis Could shake the safe assuraunee of their state. (IV. ix. 16). The most unfortunate charaeter in book four is Braggadocehio, the theiving raseal who, with Trompart, stole Malbeccots treasure. He was the brave booster who bragged of his physical prowess and then fled

in terror from gentle Belphebe. Braggadocchio is a churl who has not the ability nor bravery even to be wicked. He is an obnoxious braggart, 123

a craven coward, a 1ustful paramour wi thout the physica1 prowess to retain his Ieman from the attacks of other men. Braggadocchio, in this fourth book, has a character so vile and so degenerate that Spenser does not even ailow him the dubious pleasure of a faise friendship. He enjoys no relationship with any man. But boastfull Braggadocchio rather chose, For glorie vaine their fellowship to lose, Tbat men on him the more might gaze aione. (IV. iVe 14).

Cicero said that "there is no greater ene~ to friendship than covetousness of money, fiLnd) ••• ~ emulous desire of high offices and glory.rt12

At last the False Florimel chooses him to be her paramour after . • " she long had lookt vpon each one, As though she wished to haue pleasd them aIl. (IV. v. 26). They are extremely well-matehed companions.

There are many outside forces that mitigate against true friendship. We have âlready mentioned Envy, which i8 created within the character of the person himself, and is not really an outside force. But this vice of Envy creates two outside entities which are ver" powerful in destroying concord in friendship. These are Slander and Detraction. These evils are actually personified by Spenser. Sclaunder

12Cicero, ~. 186. 124

greets Arthur with Ae~lia and Amoret as they wander through the forest. She is an old hag, attired in rude rags, her dirty hair streaming about her, gnawing her nails in fierce anger.

A foule and loathly creature sure in sight, And in conditions to be loath'd no lesse: For she was stuft with rancour and despight Vp to the throat, that oft with bitternesse It forth would breake, and gush in great excesse, Pouring out streames of poyson and of gail Gainst ail, that truth or vertue doe professe, Whom she wit~ leasings lewdly did miscaU, And wickedly backbite: (lV. viii. 24). Her nature is aU goodnesse to abuse, And causelesse crimes continually to frame, With which she guiltlesse persons may accuse, And steale away the crowne of their good name. (lV. viii. 25). The dreadful creature pursues them When they leave and them reuiled sore, Him calling theefe, them whores. (lV. viii. 35). This figure is very similar in appearance and behaviour to that of the Blatant Beast in the eourtesy book. This loathly monster despoils and robs churches and murders innocent people. He and Galidore fight, and as he opens his yawning mouth that seemed to containe A full good pecke within the vtmost brim, Ail set with yron teeth in raunges twaine. (Vl. xii. 26). And therein were a thousand tongs empight, Of sundry kindes, and sundry quality, Sorne were of dogs, that barked day and night, And sorne of cats, that wrawling still did dry, And sorne of Beares, that groynd continually, And sorne of Tygres, tbat did seern to gren, And snar at ail, that euer passed bYe But most of them were tongues of mortall men, Which spake reprochfully, not caring where nor when. (Vl. xii. 27). 125

Among these were mingled the tongues of serpents with three forked stings, That spat out poyson and gore bloudy gere At aIl, that came within his rauenings, And spake licentious words, and hatefull things Of good and bad alike, of low and hie. (VI'. xii. 28). Detraction i5 pictured in the book of Justice as being a friend to Envy, "agreeing in bad will and cancred kynd". In will they were in complete agreement, but in manner they were at variance,

For what 50 Enuie ~ood or bad did fynde, She did conceale, (V. xii. 33). but whatever evil Detraction conceived, she "did spred abroad, and throw in th'open wyndfl (V. xii. 33). Whenever she heard something good, she at once invented How to depraue, or slaunderously vpbrayd, Or to miBconstrue of a mans intent, And turne to ill the thing, that well was ment. (V. xii. 34). She was ugly, her mouth distorted and foaming with poison. Her cursed tongue never stopped ranting. There are two excellent examples of how slander and detraction work to create discord in the false friendship between Blandamour and Paridell. When Scudamore fells Paridell in their fight, Blandamour is furious at the injury done his friend, and reviles Scudamore: False fait our Scudamour, that hast by slight And foule aduantage this good Knight dismayd, A Knight much better then thy selte behight. (IV. i. 44).

Paridell uses detraction too, in his envy of Blandamour when he says Too boastfull Blandamour, too long l beare The open wrongs, thou doest me day by day. (IV. ii. 13). 126

Thus Envy, Detraction and Slander work together to defeat the concord that exists in friendship. Ate, too, is another force that mitigates against true friendship.

' 1 She is the mother of debate and dissention:" Hard by the gates of hell her dwelling is, There whereas all the plagues and hannes abounçl, \fuich punishwicked men, that walke amisse. (IV. i. 20). She lives under ground, and though there are many ways to enter her house, there are none to issue forth when one is in: For discord harder is to end then to begin. (IV. i. 20). On the walls of her home are hung all the spoils of her wicked endeavours, rent robes, and broken scepters plast, Altars defyl'd, and holy things defast, Disshiuered speares, and shields ytorne in twaine, Great cities ransackt, and strong castIes rast, Nations captiued, and huge armies slaine: Of aIl which ruines there some relicks did remaine. (IV. i. 20). About her house the ground is full of barren weeds which she herself has sown. She feeds on them, her face foul and filthy, her contrary eyes squinted, her loathly mouth pouring forth gall and venom. Her tongue is divided into two parts and each part contends, one against the other. She hears double, and her two hands are equally at variance, That one did reach, the other pusht away, Tha t one did make, the other mard againe, And sought to bring all things vnto decay. (IV. i. 29). So full of malice is she

That euen th'Almightie selfe she did maligne, Because to man 50 mercifull he was, And vnto all his creatures so benigne. (IV. i. 30). 127

She creates discord in ever,y speech and at ever,y opportunity. She maligns Amoret and induces Scudamore to believe evil of his betrothed. She notices Paridell' s envy of Blandamour and

By sundr,y means thereto she prickt him forth, Now with remembrance of those spightfull speaches, Now with opinion of his owne more worth, Now with recounting of like former breaches Made in their friendship, (IV. ii. 12). She is full of lies and mistrust and incites these qualities in other

people by catching sorne flaw inherent in their characters and capitalizing on it. Opposed to these vile creatures, Ate, Envy, Detraction and Sclaunder, are several characters or allegorical personifications who encourage friendship. The most important of these is Concord, who is the motivating force for friendship, and whom each of the other good forces represent in some degree. Concord dwells in the Temple of Diana and rules as the Queen

of Love in friendship. She is an amiable Dame, That seem'd to be of ver,y sober mood, And in her semblant shewed great womanhood. (IV. x. 31). She was crowned with pearls and precious gems, her gown daintily woven with gold. She is attended by two young men, Love and Hate, who were vastly diverse.

Nathlesse that Dame 50 well them tempred both, That she them forced hand to io,yne in band. (IV. x. 33).

Even Hate "her cOIllIlaundment ••• could not withstandtt and he lived in harmony with his brother. Concord is the mother of Peace and 128

Friendship, as Ate was the mother of debate. She is of divine origin and "strife, and warre, and anger does subdew". She is the nurse of pleasure and delight. Yet another manifestation of the force of Concord is to be found in the person of Cambina, who acts as peace-maker for her brother Triamond and Cambell. In her right hand a rod of peace shee bore, About the which two Serpents weren wound, Entrayled mutually in louely lore, And by the tailes together firmely bound, And both ~rere with one oliue garland crownd. (lV. iii. 42). Cambina parts the two foes and institutes friendship by means of a magic drink, whereupon the knights become friends, and live together thereafter in perfect harmony.

Prince Arthur, too, in a less obvious manner, is a representative of Concord. He rescues Placidas from the vile Giant Corflambo and releases An\yas from the clutches of Poeana. He institutes concord and friendship in the relationship between Placidas and Poeana to such an extent that he succeeds in persuading Placidas to marry her once she reforms her evil ways. Glauce, the aged nurse of Britomart, is a force for Concord, as she tries to uphold Britomart' s honour and calm Scudamore in his anger. She is the peacemaker when Artegal and Britomart fight, and in both cases offers sage advice which, when followed, institutes harmony at once. 129

The goddess Venus is but another personification of this same concept of Concord. She stands upon an altar dazzlingly beset with jewels, veiled because of her double sex by which she is able both to conceive and to nourish without need of any other person. Her legs and feet are twined with a snake whose head and tail are joined, symbolizing the unifying power of friendship. Venus is the ultinate source of true love and therefore concord, or friendship. Before her in humble prayer are scattered the woeful lovers of the temple who cry out in her praise: Great Venus, Queene of beautie and of grace, The ioy of Gods and men, that vnder skie Doest fayrest shine, and most adorne thy place, That with thy smyling look doest pacifie The raging seas, and makest the stormes to flie; Thee goddesse, thee the winds, the clouds doe feare, And when thou spredst thy ma nt le forth on hie, The waters play and pleasant lands appeare, And heavens laugh, and al the world shews ioyous cheare. (lV. x. 44).

In the Temple of Venus, we see the fruition and plenitude that results fram noble friendship: In such luxurious plentie of aIl pleasure, It seem'd a second paradise to ghesse, So lauishly enricht with œ.tures threasure. (IV. x. 23). Among this plenty, far away from the thousand pairs of lovers, were another sort Of louers lincked in true harts consent; Which loued not as these, for like intent, But on chast vertue grounded their desire. (IV. x. 26). These are true friends who aspired to ttbraue thoughts and noble deeds"

(IV. x. 26). The earth brings forth Out of her fruitfull lap aboundant flowres, And then ail liuing wights, soone as they see The spring breake forth out of his lusty bowres, (IV. x. 45). 130

turn to love; the birds, ~~, the savage beasts ail become lovers. Venus is the Great God of men and women, queen of thtayre, Mother of laughter, and welspring of blisse. (IV. x. 47). The Temple abounds with healthy plenitude and bliss; its plenty is the direct result of the virtuous quality of friendship. Truly, friendship is the kind of love which above all others "the gent le hart should most assured bind" (lV. ix. 1), for "love (from which friendship takes its name) is the main motive for the union of kind feelings". D Cicero best expressed what l believe to be Spenserts desire in this book of friendship: nI exhort you to lay the foundations of virtue, without which friendship cannot exist, in such a manner tr.a.t • • • you may consider that nothing in the li'orld is more excellent than friendship".14

DCicero, p. 1$3. 14Cicero, p. 215. BIBLIOGRAPHY

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