Faerie Queene. Book IV. Canto III.

The Faerie Queene. Disposed into Twelve Bookes, fashioning XII. morall Vertues. The Second Part of the Faerie Queene. Containing the Fourth, Fifth, and Sixth Bookes.

Edmund Spenser

George L. Craik: "Canto III. (52 stanzas). — 'O why,' asks the poet, in commencing the continuation of the story of the three sons of Agape, 'O! why do wretched men so much desire | To draw their days unto the utmost date, | And do not rather wish them soon expire; | Knowing the misery of their estate'.... He holds this fairy mother, therefore, but fond and vain, 'The which, in seeking for her children three | Long life, thereby did more prolong their pain.' Yet while they lived, he adds, more happy creatures than they seemed to be none ever saw, nor any of nobler courtesy, nor more dearly loved, nor more renowned. All the other suitors, not unreasonably, declined the encounter with Cambel and his miraculous ring; the three brothers alone accepted his challenge to fight with him for Canace. And now the appointed morning was come; 'the field with lists was all about inclosed;' — on the one side sate six judges to watch and declare the issue of the fight — on the other 'in fresh array | Fair Canace upon a stately stage | Was set, to see the fortune of that fray, | And to be seen.'

"First Cambel entered the lists; soon after, the three brothers, 'With scutcheons gilt and banners broad displayed; | And, marching thrice in warlike ordinance, | Thrice lowted lowly to the noble Maid; | The whiles shrill trumpets and loud clarions sweetly played.' The first that comes forth to answer the challenger's call is Priamond, the eldest; after a fierce combat, in which Cambel, although, protected by the ring, he loses no blood, yet receives some severe bruises and wounds, he is slain by his weasand-pipe being cleft through his gorget, and in a gush of purple blood his weary ghost is let forth.... 'But through traduction was eftsoons derived, | Like as his mother prayed the Destiny, | Into his other brethren that survived, | In whom he lived anew, of former life deprived.' Instantly the next brother, Diamond, sad and sorry enough, yet giving no time to grief, started forward to offer himself to the like chance 'his foe was soon addressed; the trumpets freshly blew.' 'With that they both together fiercely met, | As if that each meant other to devour'....

"The fight is long, but ends like the former; Diamond's head is severed from his shoulders by Cambel's axe. Yet the decapitated man continues on the perpendicular: — 'The headless trunk, as heedless of that stour, | Stood still awhile, and his fast footing kept; | Till, feeling life to fail, it fell, and deadly slept.... | It left; but that same soul which therein dwelt, | Straight entering into Triamond him filled | With double life and grief.' Lightly leaping forward, the third and last brother loses not a moment in confronting the victor — who on his part meets his new foe with equal alacrity. 'Well mote ye wonder how that noble knight, | After he had so often wounded been, | Could stand on foot now to renew the fight: | But, had ye then him forth advancing seen, | Some newborn wight ye would him surely ween.... | Yet nought thereof was Triamond adread, | Ne desperate of glorious victory; | But sharply him assailed, and sore bested | With heaps of strokes, which he at him let fly'....

"In this way the battle for a long time continues varying to and fro, Triamond, however, gradually growing fainter from loss of blood: 'But Cambel still more strong and greater grew, | Ne felt his blood to waste, ne powers emperished, | Through that ring's virtue, that with vigour new, | Still, whenas he enfeebled was, him cherished'.... Cambel, however, after this fights less furiously, 'as one in fear the Stygian gods to offend.' At last, each receiving a tremendous stroke from the other at the same moment, they both at once fall to all appearance dead upon the field. But lo, when the judges have risen, the marshals broken up the lists, and Canace given herself up to weeping and wailing, up start again both combatants, the one out of his swoon, the other breathing a new life, and instantly fall to fighting afresh.

"They strike and hew away at one another for a further length of time; and the ease still hangs in doubt, when 'All suddenly they heard a troublous noise, | That seemed some perilous tumult to design, | Confused with women's cries and shouts of boys, | Such as the troubled theatres ofttimes annoys.... | Lo! where they spied with speedy whirling pace | One in a chariot of strange furniment | Towards them driving like a storm out sent'.... The chariot is drawn by two lions, and in it sits a most beautiful lady, seeming 'born of angels' brood,' and with a look of bounty, or goodness, equal to her beauty. This is Cambina, a daughter of the Fairy Agape, who, having been trained in magic by her mother, and having by her mighty art learned the evil plight in which her brother Triamond now is, has come to aid him, and to put an end to the deadly strife between him and Cambel....

"When she has reached the lists, Cambina softly smites the rail with her rod, and forthwith it flies open and gives her passage. Then descending from her coach she salutes first her brother and next Cambel, for whom, it is intimated, she entertains a secret love. As they continue to fight she throws herself down on the bloody ground, and, mixing prayers with her tears, and reasons with her prayers, entreats them to desist. 'But, whenas all might nought with them prevail, | She smote them lightly with her powerful wand: | Then suddenly, as if their hearts did fail, | Their wrathful blades down fell out of their hand'.... Canace now comes down from her seat to know what it is that has happened; she and Cambina become friends on the spot; the trumpets sound, and all the people arising depart in glee and gladness" Spenser and his Poetry (1845; 1871) 2:97-104.

The Battle 'twixt three Brethren, with
Cambel for Canacee:
Cambina with true Friendship's Bond
Doth their long Strife agree.

O why do wretched Men so much desire
To draw their Days unto the utmost Date,
And do not rather wish them soon expire,
Knowing the Misery of their Estate,
And thousand Perils which them still await,
Tossing them like a Boat amid the Main,
That every Hour they knock at Deathes Gate?
And he that happy seems, and least in pain,
Yet is as nigh his end, as he that most doth 'plain.

Therefore this Fay I hold but fond and vain;
The which in seeking for her Children three
Long Life, thereby did more prolong their Pain:
Yet whilst they lived, none did ever see
More happy Creatures than they seem'd to be,
Nor more ennobled for their Curtesy;
That made them dearly lov'd of each Degree:
Ne more renowned for their Chevalry;
That made them dreaded much of all Men far and nigh.

These three that hardy Challenge took in hand,
For Canacee with Cambel for to fight:
The Day was set, that all might understand,
And Pledges pawn'd the same to keep aright.
That Day (the dreadest Day that living Wight
Did ever see upon this World to shine)
So soon as Heaven's Window shewed Light,
These warlike Champions, all in Armour shine,
Assembled were in Field, the Challenge to define.

The Field with Lists was all about enclos'd,
To bar the Press of People far away;
And at th' one side six Judges were dispos'd,
To view and deem the Deeds of Arms that day:
And on the other side, in fresh Array,
Fair Canacee upon a stately Stage
Was set, to see the Fortune of that Fray,
And to be seen, as his most worthy Wage,
That could her purchase with his Life's adventur'd Gage.

Then entred Cambel first into the List,
With stately Steps, and fearless Countenance,
As if the Conquest his he surely wist.
Soon after, did the Brethren three advance
In brave Array, and goodly Amenance,
With Scutchins gilt, and Banners broad display'd:
And marching thrice in warlike Ordinance,
Thrice louted lowly to the noble Maid,
The whiles shrill Trumpets and loud Clarions sweetly play'd

Which doen, the doughty Challenger came forth,
All arm'd to point his Challenge to abet;
'Gainst whom, Sir Priamond, with equal Worth,
And equal Arms himself did forward set.
A Trumpet blew; they both together met,
With dreadful Force, and furious Intent,
Careless of Peril in their fierce Affret,
As if that Life to lose they had forelent,
And cared not to spare, that should be shortly spent.

Right practick was Sir Priamond in Fight,
And throughly skill'd in use of Shield and Spear;
Ne less approved was Cambello's Might,
Ne less his Skill in Weapons did appear,
That hard it was to ween which harder were.
Full many mighty Strokes on either side
Were sent, that seemed Death in them to bear:
But they were both so watchful and well ey'd,
That they avoided were, and vainly by did slide.

Yet one of many was so strongly bent
By Priamond, that with unluckly Glaunce,
Through Cambel's Shoulder it unwarely went,
That forced him his Shield to disadvaunce:
Much was he grieved with that graceless Chaunce;
Yet from the Wound no Drop of Blood there fell,
But wondrous Pain, that did the more enhaunce
His haughty Courage to Avengement fell:
Smart daunts not mighty Hearts, but makes them more to swell.

With that, his poinant Spear he fierce aventred,
With doubled Force close underneath his Shield,
That through the Mayles into his Thigh it entred,
And there arresting, ready way did yield,
For Blood to gush forth on the grassy Field;
That he for Pain himself n'ote right up-rear,
But to and fro in great Amazement reel'd,
Like an old Oak, whose Pith and Sap is seare,
At Puff of every Storm doth stagger here and there.

Whom so dismay'd when Cambel had espy'd,
Again he drove at him with double Might,
That nought mote stay the Steel, till in his Side
The mortal Point most cruelly empight:
Where fast infixed, whilst he sought by slight
It forth to wrest, the Staff asunder brake,
And left the Head behind: With which Despite
He all enrag'd, his shivering Spear did shake,
And charging him afresh, thus felly him bespake:

Lo! Faitour, there thy Meed unto thee take,
The Meed of thy Mischallenge and Abet:
Not for thine own, but for thy Sister's sake,
Have I thus long thy Life unto thee let;
But to forbear, doth not forgive the Debt.
The wicked Weapon heard his wrathful Vow;
And passing forth with furious Affret,
Pierc'd through his Bever quite into his Brow,
That with the Force it backward forced him to bow.

There-with asunder in the midst it brast,
And in his hand nought but the Troncheon left.
The other half behind yet sticking fast,
Out of his Head-piece Cambel fiercely reft:
And with such Fury back at him it heft,
That making way unto his dearest Life,
His Weasand-pipe it through his Gorget cleft:
Thence Streams of purple Blood, issuing rife,
Let forth his weary Ghost, and made an end of Strife.

His weary Ghost assoil'd from fleshly Band,
Did not (as others wont) directly fly
Unto her Rest in Pluto's griesly Land;
Ne into Air did vanish presently,
Ne changed was into a Star in Sky:
But through Traduction was eftsoons deriv'd,
Like as his Mother pray'd the Destiny,
Into his other Brethren, that surviv'd:
In whom he liv'd anew of former Life depriv'd.

Whom, when on ground his Brother next beheld,
Though sad and sorry for so heavy Hight,
Yet leave unto his Sorrow did not yield:
But rather stir'd to Vengeance and Despite,
Through secret feeling of his generous Spright,
Rush'd fiercely forth, the Battle to renew,
As in Reversion of his Brother's Right;
And challenging the Virgin as his due.
His Foe was soon address'd: the Trumpets freshly blew.

With that, they both together fiercely met,
As if that each meant other to devour;
And with their Axes both so sorely bet,
That neither Plate nor Mail, where-as their Power
They felt, could once sustain the hideous Stower,
But rived were, like rotten Wood asunder,
Whilst through their Rifts the ruddy Blood did shower,
And Fire did flash like Lightning after Thunder,
That fill'd the Lookers on at once with Ruth and Wonder.

As when two Tigers prick'd with Hunger's Rage,
Have by good fortune found some Beasts fresh Spoil,
On which they ween their Famine to assuage,
And gain a feastful Guerdon of their Toil;
Both falling out, do stir up strife-ful Broil,
And cruel Battle 'twixt themselves do make,
Whiles neither lets the other touch the Soil,
But either 'sdains with other to partake:
So cruelly these Knights strove for that Lady's sake.

Full many Strokes, that mortally were meant,
The whiles were interchanged 'twixt them two;
Yet they were all with so good Wariment
Or warded, or avoided and let go,
That still the Life stood fearless of her Foe:
Till Diamond, disdaining long Delay
Of doubtful Fortune wavering to and fro,
Resolv'd to end it one or other way;
And heav'd his murdrous Axe at him with mighty Sway.

The dreadful Stroke, in case it had arriv'd
Where it was meant (so deadly was it meant)
The Soul had sure out of his Body riv'd,
And stinted all the Strife incontinent.
But Cambel's Fate that Fortune did prevent:
For, seeing it at hand, he swerv'd aside,
And so gave way unto his fell Intent:
Who, missing of the Mark which he had ey'd,
Was with the Force nigh feld, whilst his right Foot did slide.

As when a Vulture, greedy of his Prey,
Thro Hunger long, that Heart to him doth lend
Strikes at an Heron with all his Body's Sway,
That from his Force seems not may it defend;
The wary Fowl, that spies him toward bend,
His dreadful Souse avoids, it shunning light,
And maketh him his Wing in Vain to spend;
That with theWeight of his own wieldless Might,
He falleth nigh to ground, and scarce recovereth Flight.

Which fair Adventure, when Cambello spy'd,
Full lightly, e'er himself he could recover,
From Danger's Dread to ward his naked Side
He 'gan let drive at him with all his Power
And with his Axe him smote in evil Hour,
That from his Shoulders quite his Head he reft:
The headless Trunk, as heedless of that Stower,
Stood still awhile, and his fast Footing kept
Till feeling Life to fail, it fell, and deadly slept.

They, which that piteous Spectacle beheld,
Were much amaz'd the headless Trunk to see
Stand up so long, and Weapon vain to weld,
Unweeting of the Fates Divine Decree,
For Life's Succession in those Brethren three.
For, notwithstanding that one Soul was reft,
Yet had the Body not dismembred be,
It would have lived, and revived eft;
But finding no fit Seat, the life-less Corse it left.

It left; but that same Soul which therein dwelt,
Strait entring intoTriamond, him fill'd
With double Life and Grief; which when he felt,
As one whose inner Parts had been ythrill'd
With point of Steel, that close his Heart-blood spill'd,
He lightly leapt out of his place of Rest,
And rushing forth into the empty Field,
Against Cambello fiercely him addrest;
Who, him affronting, soon to fight was ready prest.

Well mote ye wonder, how that noble Knight,
After he had so often wounded been,
Could stand on foot, now to renew the Fight.
But had ye then him forth advauncing seen,
Some new-born Wight ye would him surely ween:
So fresh he seemed, and so fierce in fight;
Like as a Snake, whom weary Winter's Teen
Hath worn to nought, now feeling Sommer's Might,
Casts off his ragged Skin, and freshly doth him dight.

All was thro Virtue of the Ring he wore,
The which not only did not from him let
One drop of Blood to fall, but did restore
His weakned Powers, and dulled Spirits whet,
Thro working of the Stone therein yset.
Else how could one of equal Might with most,
Against so many no less mighty met,
Once think to match three such on equal Cost?
Three such as able were to match a puissant Host.

Yet nought thereof was Triamond adred,
Ne desperate of glorious Victory,
But sharply him asail'd, and sore bested
With heaps of Strokes, which he at him let fly,
As thick as Hail forth poured from the Sky:
He strook, he soust, he foin'd, he hew'd, he lash'd,
And did his iron Brond so fast apply,
That from the same the fiery Sparkles flash d,
As fast as Water-sprinkles 'gainst the Rock are dash'd.

Much was Cambello daunted with his Blows:
So thick they fell, and forcibly were sent,
That he was forc'd (from Danger of the Throws)
Back to retire, and somewhat to relent,
Till th' Heat of his fierce Fury he had spent:
Which when for want of Breath 'gan to abate,
He then afresh, with new Encouragement,
Did him assail, and mightily amate,
As fast as forward earst, now backward to retreat.

Like as the Tide that comes from th' Ocean Main,
Flows up the Shenan with contrary Force,
Aud over-ruling him in his own Reign,
Drives back the Current of his kindly Course,
And makes it seem to have some other Source:
But when the Flood is spent, then back again
His borrow'd Waters forc'd to re-disburse,
He sends the Sea his own with double Gain,
And Tribute eke withal, as to his Sovereign.

Thus did the Battle vary to and fro,
With diverse Fortune doubtful to be deem'd:
Now this the better had, now had his Foe;
Then he half vanquish'd, then the other seem'd;
Yet Victors both themselves always esteem'd
And all the while the disentrailed Blood
Adown their Sides like little Rivers stream'd;
That with the wasting of his vital Flood,
Sir Triamond at last, full faint and feeble stood.

But Cambel still more strong and greater grew,
Ne felt his Blood to waste, ne Powers emperish'd,
Thro that Ring's Virtue, that with Vigour new,
Still whenas he enfeebled was, him cherish'd,
And all his Wounds, and all his Bruises guarish'd
Like as a wither'd Tree, thro Husband's Toil,
Is often seen full freshly to have flourish'd,
And fruitful Apples to have borne awhile,
As fresh as when it first was planted in the Soil.

Thro which Advantage, in his Strength he rose,
And smote the other with so wondrous Might,
That thro the Seam, which did his Hauberk close;
Into his Throat and Life it pierced quite,
That down he fell, as dead in all Mens sight:
Yet dead he was not, yet he sure did die,
As all Men do that lose the living Spright;
So did one Soul out of his Body fly
Unto her native Home, from mortal Misery.

But natheless, whilst all the Lookers on
Him dead behight, as he to all appear'd,
All unawares he started up anon,
As one that had out of a Dream been rear'd,
And fresh assail'd his Foe; who half affeard
Of th' uncouth Sight, as he some Ghost had seen,
Stood still amaz'd, holding his idle Sweard;
Till having often by him striken been,
He forced was to strike, and save himself from Teen.

Yet from thenceforth more warily he fought,
As one in fear the Stygian Gods t' offend,
Ne follow'd on so fast, but rather sought
Himself to save, and Danger to defend,
Than Life and Labour both in vain to spend.
Which Triamond perceiving, weened sure
He 'gan to faint, toward the Battle's end,
And that he should not long on foot endure;
A Sign which did to him the Victory assure.

Whereof full blithe, eftsoons his mighty Hand
He heav'd on high, in mind with that same Blow
To make an end of all that did withstand:
Which Cambel seeing come, was nothing slow
Himself to save from that so deadly Throw;
And at that instant reaching forth his Sword
Close undernath his Shield, that scarce did show,
Strook him, as he his Hand to strike up-rear'd,
In th' Armpit full, that thro both Sides the Wound appear'd.

Yet still that direful stroke kept on his way,
And falling heavy on Cambello's Crest,
Strook him so hugely, that in Swoon he lay,
And in his Head an hideous Wound imprest:
And sure, had it not happily found rest
Upon the Brim of his broad-plated Shield,
It would have cleft his Brain down to his Breast.
So both at once fell dead upon the Field,
And each to other seem'd the Victory to yield.

Which when-as all the Lookers on beheld,
They weened sure the War was at an end,
And Judges rose, and Marshals of the Field
Broke up the Lists, their Arms away to rend;
And Canacee 'gan wail her dearest Friend.
All suddenly they both upstarted light,
The one out of the Swoon, which him did blend,
The other breathing now another Spright;
And fiercely each assailing, 'gan afresh to fight.

Long while they then continu'd in that wise,
As it but then the Battle had begun:
Strokes, Wounds, Wards, Weapons, all they did despise,
Ne either car'd to ward, or Peril shun,
Desirous both to have the Battle done;
Ne either cared Life to save or spill,
Ne which of them did win, ne which were won:
So weary, both of fighting had their Fill,
That Life it self seem'd loathsom, and long Safety ill.

Whilst thus the Case in doubtful Ballance hong,
Unsure to whether Side it would incline,
And all Mens Eyes and Hearts, which there among
Stood gazing, filled were with rueful Tine,
And secret Fear to see their fatal Fine;
All suddenly they heard a troublous Noise,
That seem'd some perlous Tumult to design,
Confus'd with Womens Cries, and Shouts of Boys,
Such as the troubled Theatres oft-times annoys.

Thereat the Champions both stood still a space,
To weeten what that suddain Clamour meant;
Lo! where they spy'd with speedy whirling Pace,
One in a Chariot of strange Furniment,
Towards them driving like a Storm out sent.
The Chariot decked was in wondrous wise,
With Gold and many a gorgeous Ornament,
After the Perisan Monarch's antique Guise,
Such as the Maker's self could best by Art devise.

And drawn it was (that Wonder is to tell)
Of two grim Lions, taken from the Wood,
In which their Power all others did excel;
Now made forget their former cruel Mood
T' obey their Rider's Hest, as seemed good.
And therein sate a Lady passing fair
And bright, that seemed born of Angel's Brood,
And with her Beauty, Bounty did compare,
Whether of them in her should have the greater Share.

Thereto she learned was in Magick Lear,
And all the Arts that subtile Wits discover,
Having therein been trained many a year,
And well instructed by the Fay her Mother,
That in the same she far excell'd all other.
Who understanding by her mighty Art,
Of th' evil Plight, in which her dearest Brother
Now stood, came forth in haste to take his part,
And pacify the Strife, which caus'd so deadly Smart.

And as she passed thro th'unruly Press
Of People, thronging thick her to behold,
Her angry Team breaking their Bonds of Peace,
Great Heaps of them, like Sheep in narrow Fold,
For haste did over-run, in Dust enroll'd;
That thorough rude Confusion of the Rout,
Some fearing shriek'd, some being harmed howl'd,
Some laugh'd for Sport, some did for Wonder shout,
And some that would seem wise, their Wonder turn'd to Doubt.

In her right Hand a Rod of Peace she bore,
About the which two Serpents weren wound,
Entrailed mutually in lovely Lore,
And by the Tails together firmly bound;
And both were with one Olive Garland crown'd,
Like to the Rod which Maia's Son doth wield,
Wherewith the hellish Fiends he doth confound.
And in her other Hand a Cup she held,
The which was with Nepenthe to the Brim up-fill'd.

Nepenthe is a Drink of sovereign Grace,
Devized by the Gods, for to assuage
Heart's Grief, and bitter Gall away to chace,
Which stirs up Anguish and contentious Rage:
Instead thereof, sweet Peace and quiet Age
It doth establish in the troubled Mind.
Few Men, but such as sober are and sage,
Are by the Gods to drink thereof assign'd;
But such as drink, eternal Happiness do find.

Such famous Men, such Worthies of the Earth,
As Jove will have advaunced to the Sky,
And there made Gods, tho born of mortal Birth,
For their high Merits and great Dignity,
Are wont, before they may to Heaven fly,
To drink hereof; whereby all Cares forepast
Are wash'd away quite from their Memory.
So did those old Heroes hereof taste,
Before that they in Bliss amongst the Gods were plac'd.

Much more of Price, and of more gracious Power
Is this, than that same Water of Arden,
The which Rinaldo drunk in happy hour,
Described by that famous Tuscan Pen:
For that had Might to change the Hearts of Men
From Love to Hate, a Change of evil Choice:
But this doth Hatred make in Love to bren,
And heavy Heart with Comfort doth rejoice.
Who would not to this Vertue rather yield his Voice?

At last, arriving by the Listes side,
She with her Rod did softly smite the Rail;
Which straight flew ope, and gave her way to ride.
Eftsoons our of her Coach she 'gan avail,
And pacing fairly forth did bid, All hail,
First to her Brother, whom she loved dear,
That so to see him made her Heart to quail;
And next to Cambel, whose sad rueful Chear
Made her to change her Hue, and hidden Love t' appear.

They lightly her requit (for small Delight
They had as then her long to entertain)
And eft them turned both again to fight.
Which when she saw, down on the bloody Plain
Her self she threw, and Tears 'gan shed amain;
Amongst her Tears immixing Prayers meek,
And (with her Prayers, Reasons to restrain
From bloody Strife, and blessed Peace to seek)
By all that unto them was dear, did them beseek.

But when-as all might nought with them prevail,
She smote them lightly with her powerful Wand.
Then suddenly, as if their Hearts did fail,
Their wrathful Blades down fell out of their Hand,
And they like Men astonish'd still did stand.
Thus whilst their Minds were doubtfully distraught,
And mighty Spirits bound with mightier Band,
Her golden Cup to them for Drink she raught,
Whereof full glad for Thirst, each drunk an hearty Draught.

Of which so soon as they once tasted had
(Wonder it is that sudden Change to see)
Instead of Strokes, each other kissed glad,
And lovely haulst from Fear of Treason free,
And plighted Hands for ever Friends to be.
When all Men saw this sudden Change of things,
So mortal Foes fo friendly to agree,
For passing Joy, which so great Marvel brings,
They all 'gan shout aloud, that all the Heaven rings.

All which, when gentle Canacee beheld,
In haste she from her lofty Chair descended,
To weet what sudden Tidings was befell'd:
Where when she saw that cruel War so ended,
And deadly Foes so faithfully affriended,
In lovely wise she 'gan that Lady greet,
Which had so great Dismay so well amended;
And entertaining her with Court'sies meet,
Profess'd to her true Friendship and Affection sweet.

Thus when they all accorded goodly were,
The Trumpets sounded, and they all arose,
Thence to depart with Glee and gladsom Chear.
Those warlike Champions both together chose,
Homeward to march, themselves there to repose:
And wise Cambina, taking by her Side
Fair Canacee as fresh as Morning-Rose,
Unto her Coach remounting, home did ride,
Admir'd of all the People, and much glorify'd.

Where making joyous Feasts, their Days they spent
In perfect Love, devoid of hateful Strife,
Ally'd with Bands of mutual Couplement;
For Triamond had Canacee to Wife,
With whom he led a long and happy Life;
And Cambel took Cambina to his Fere,
The which as Life were each to other liefe.
So all alike did love, and loved were,
That since their Days such Lovers were not found elsewhere.

[Works, ed. Hughes (1715) 3:577-90]