[book I. CANTO I. The patron of true Holiness Foul Error doth defeat ; Hj^ocrisy, him to entrap, Doth to his home entreat. A GENTLE knight was pricking on the plain, Yclad in mighty arms and silver shield, Wherein old dints of deep wounds did remain, The cruel marks of many' a bloody field ; Yet arms till that time did he never wield : His angry steed did chide his foaming bit, As much disdaining to the curb to yield : Full jolly knight he seem'd, and fair did sit, As one for knightly jousts and fierce en- counters fit, 11. And on his breast a bloody cross he bore. The dear remembrance of his dying Lord, For whose sweet sake that glorious badge he wore. And dead, as living, ever Him adored ; Upon his shield the like was also scored, For sovereign hope, which in his help he had, [word ; Right, faithful, true he was in deed and But of his cheer did seem too solemn sad ; Yet nothing did he dread, but ever was ydrad. III. Upon a great adventure he was bound. That greatest Gloriana to him gave, (That greatest glorious Queen of Fairy land) To win him worship, and her grace to have. Which of all earthly things he most did crave. And ever as he rode, his heart did earne To prove his puissance in battle brave Upon his foe, and his new force to learn ; Upon his foe, a dragon horrible and stern. IV. A lovely lady rode him fair beside. Upon a lowly ass more white than snow ; Yet she much whiter ; but the same did hide Under a veil, that wimpled was full low ; And over all a black stole she did throw, As one that inly mourn'd ; so was she sad, And heavy sate upon her palfrey slow ; Seemed in heart some hidden care she had ; And bv her in a linea milk-white lamb shelad. So pure and innocent, as that same lamb, She was in life and every virtuous lore. And by descent from ro3'al lineage came Of ancient kings and queens, that had of yore [shore, Their sccptros strctch'd from east to western And all tlae world in their subjection held ; Till that infernal fiend with foul uproar Forwasted all their land, and them expell'd ; Whom to avenge, she had this knight from far compell'd. VI. Behind her far away a dwarf did lag. That lazy seem'd, in being ever last, Orwea^ried with bearing of her bag Of needments at his back. Thus as they past^ The day with clouds was sudden overcast, And angry Jove an hideous storm of rain Did pour into his leman's lap so fast. That every wight to shroud it did constrain ; And this-Jair couple eke to shroud them- selves were fain. VII. Enforced to seek some covert nigh at hand, A shady grove not far away they spied, That promised aid the tempest to withstand; Whose lofty trees, yclad with summer's pride [did hide, Did spread so broad, that heaven's light Not pierceable with power of any star ; And all within were paths and alleys wide. With footing worn and leading inward far ; Fair harbour that them seems ; so in they enter'd are. VIII. And forth they pass, with pleasure forward led, Joying to hear the birds' sweet harmony. Which therein shrouded from the tempest dread, Seem'd in their song to scorn the cruel sky. Much can they praise the trees so straight and high. The sailing pine ; the cedar proud and tall ; The vine-prop elm ; the poplar never dry ; The builder oak, sole king of forests all ; ' The aspen good for staves ; the cypress funeral ; IX. The laurel, meed of mighty conquerors And poets sage ; the fir that weepeth still ; The willow, worn of forlorn paramours ; The yew, obedient to the bender's will ; The birch for shafts ; the sallow for the mill ; The myrrh sweet-bleeding in thebitterwound; The warlike beech ; the ash for nothing ill ; The fruitful olive ; and the platane round ; The carver holme; the maple, seld'"n inward sound. X, ^ed with delight, they thiis beguile the way, ,JntiI the blust'ring storm is overblown ; When, weening to return, whence they did stray, [shown, *rhey cannot find that path, which first was But wander to and fro in ways unknown, furthest from end then, when they nearest "i^^ ween, [their own ; rhat makes them doubt their wits be not So many paths, so many turnings seen, That which of them to take in diverse doubt they been. XI. At last resolving forward still to fare, Till that some end they find, or in or out, That path they take, that beaten seem'd most bare, And like to lead the labyrinth about ; Which when by tract they hunted had throughout. At length it brought them to a hollow cave Amid the thickest woods. The champion stout Eftsoones dismounted from his courser brave, And to the dv.-arf awhile his needless spear he ga\-e. XII. " Be well aware," quoth then that lady mild, " Lest sudden mischief ye too rash provoke : The danger hid, the place unknown and wild. Breeds dreadful doubts : oft fire is without smoke, [stroke, And peril without show ; therefore your Sir Knight, withhold, till further trial made." " Ah , Lady , " said he, "shame were to revoke The forward footing for an hidden shade : Virtue gives herself light through darkness for to wade." XIII. ' ' Yea, but, " quoth she, ' ' the peril of this place I better wot then you : Though now too late To wish you back return with foul disgrace, Yet wisdom warns, whilest foot is in the gate. To stay the step, ere forced to retreat. This is theWand'ringWood,this Error's Den , A monster vile, whom God and man does hate: Therefore I read beware." "Fly, fly," quoth then [Hving men." The fearful dwarf ; ' ' this is no place for XIV. But, full of fire and greedy hardiment. The youthful knight could not for ought be stay'd ; But forth unto the darksome hole he went. And looked in : his glist"ring armour made A little glooming light, much like a shade ; By which he saw tlie ugly monster plain, Half like a serpent horribly display'd. But th' other half did woman's shape retain. Most loathsome, filthy, foul, and full of vile disdain. XV. And, as she lay upon the dirty ground. Her huge long tail her den all overspread, Yet was in knots and many boughts up- wound, Pointed with mortal sting : of her there bred A thousand young ones, which she daily fed. Sucking upon her pois'nous dugs ; each one Of sundry shapes, yet all ill-favoured : Soon as that uncouth light upon them shone, Into her mouth they crept, and sudden all were gone.* XVI. Their dam upstart out of her den effraid, And rushed forth, hurling her hideous tail About her cursed head ; whose folds display'd W^ere stretch'd now forth at length without entrail. She look'd about, and seeing one in mail, Armed to point, sought back to turn again ; For light she hated as the deadly bale. Aye wont in desert darkness to remain. Where plain none might her see, nor she see any plain. XVII. Which when the valiant Elf perceived, he leapt As lion fierce upon the flying prey, And with his trenchant blade her boldly kept From turning back, and forced her to stay : Therewith enraged she loudly gan to bray, .\nd turning fierce her speckled tail advaunst, Threatening her angry sting, him to dismay ; Who, nought aghast, his mighty hand en- haunst ; [shoulder glaunst. The stroke down from her head unto her XVIII. Much daunted with that dint her sense was dazed ; Yet kindling rage herself she gathered round, And all at once her beastly body raised With doubled forces high above the ground ; Tho, wrapping up her wreathed stern around, [train Leapt fierce upon his shield, and her huge All suddenly about his body wound. That hand or foot to stir he strove in vain. God help the man so wrapt in Error's end- less train ! XIX. His lady, sad to see his sore constraint, Cried out, " Now, now. Sir Knight, show what ye be ; Add Faith unto your force, and be not faint ; .Strangle her, else she sure will strangle thee. " That when he heard, in great perplexity, His gall did grate for grief and high disdain ; And, knitting all his force, got one hand free, * Milton used this idea for Sin and her offspring. See " Paradise Lost," Look IV. B 2 [book Wherewith he gript her gorge with so great pain, [her constrain. That soon to loose her wicked bands did XX. Therewith she spew'd out of her filthy maw A flood of poison horrible and black, Full of great lumps of flesh and gobbets raw, Which stunk so vilely, thatit forced him slack His grasping hold, and from her turn him back : Her vomit full of books and papers was. With loathly frogs and toads, which eyes did lack, [grass : And creeping sought way in the weedy Her filthy parbreake all the place defiled has. xxr. As when old father Xilus gins to swell With timely pride above the Egyptian vale, His fatty waves do fertile slime outwell, And overflow each plain and lowly dale : But, when his later spring gins to avale, Huge heaps of mud he leaves, wherein there .breed [male Ten thousand kinds of creatures, partly And partly female of liis fruitful seed ; Such ugly monstrous shapes elsewhere may no man reed. XXII. The same so sore annoyed has the knight. That, well nigh choked with the deadly stink, His forces fail, ne can no longer fight. Whose courage when the fiend perceived to shrink. She poured forth out of her hellish sink Her fruitful cursed spawn of serpents small, (Deformed monsters, foul, and black as ink). Which swarming all about his legs did craw 1, And him encumber'd sore, but could not hurt at all. XXIII. As gentle shepherd in sweet eventide, When ruddy Phcebus gins to welke in west. High on an hill, his flock to vewen wide, Marks which do bite their hasty supper best, A cloud of cumbrous gnats do him molest. All striving to infix their feeble stings, Thatfromtheirnoyancehe no where can rest ; But with his clownish hands their tender wings [murmurings. He brusheth oft, and oft doth mar llieir XXIV. Thus ill bested, and fearful more of shame Than of the certain peril he stood in. Half furious, unto his foe he came, Resolved in mind all suddenly to win, Or soon to lose, before he once would lin ; And struck at her with more than manly force, That from her body, full of filthy sin, He reft her hateful head without remorse : A stream of coal-black blood forth gushed from her corse. XXV. Her scatt'red brood, soon as their parent dea* They saw so rudely falling to the ground. Groaning full deadly all with troublous fear Gather'd themselves about her body round. Weening their wonted entrance to have found At her wide mouth ; but, being there with- stood, . They flocked all about her bleeding wo >, eld And sucked up their dying mother's bloocr, Making her death their life, and eke her hurt their good. XXVI. That detestable sight him much amazed, To see th' unkindly imps, of heaven accurst. Devour their dam ; on whom while so he gazed. Having all satisfied their bloody thirst. Their bellies swoln he saw with fulness burst. And bowels gushing forth : well worthy end Of such, as drunk her life, the which them nurst ! Now needelh him no longer labour spend. His foes have slain themselves, with whom he should contend. XXVII. His lady seeing all that chanced, from far, Approach'd in haste to greet his victory ; And said, ''^EairJougliC-tujrnjinder hagpy star. Who see your vanquish'd foes before you lie ; Well worthy be you of that armoury. Wherein ye have great glory won this day, And proved your strength on a strongencmy ; Your first adventure : many such I pray. And henccTortli ever wish that like succeed it may ! " XXVIII. Then mounted he upon his steed again. And with the lady backward sought to wend : That path he kept, which beaten was most plain, Xe ever would to any by-way bend ; But still did follow one unto the end. The v.hich at last out of the wood them brought. So forward on his way (with God to friend) He passed forth, and new adventure sought : Long v.ay he travelled, before he heard of ought, XXIX. Atlengthjhey^hanced to meet upon the w ay Anliged sire, in long black weeds yclad. His feet all bare, his beard all hoar}-^ grav. And by his belt his book he hanging had ; Sober he seeni'd, and very sagely sad ; And to the ground his eyes were lowly bent. Simple in show, and void of malice bad ; And all the way he prayed, as he went, And often kncck'd his breast, as one tb.at did repent. CANTO I.] 5 XXX. Him fair the knijht saluted, louting low, Who fair him quiled, as that courteous was ; And after asked him, if he did know [pass. Of strange adventures, which abroad did "Ah! my dear son," quoth he, "how should, alas ! Silly old man, that lives in hidden cell. Bidding his beads all day for his trespass, Tidings of war and worldly trouble tell ? "With holy father sits rot with such things to mell. XXXI, ' ' But if of danger, which hereby dotlt dwell, And homebred evil ye desire to hear, Of a strange man I can you tidings tell, That wasteth all this country far and near." " Of such," said he, " I chiefly do inquire ; And shall thee well reward to show the place, la which that wicked wight his days doth wear : For to all knighthood it is foul disgrace. That such a cursed creature lives so long a space." XXXII. ' ' Far hence, " quoth he, ' ' in wasteful wilder- ness His dwelling is, by which no living wight May ever pass, but thorough great distress." "Now," said the lady, " draweth toward night ; And we'll I wote, that of your later fight Ye all forwearied be ; for \\hat so strong. But, wanting rest, will also want of might? The sun, that measures heaven all day long. At night doth bait his steeds the ocean waves among. XXXIII. "Then with the sun take, sir, your timely rest. And witli new day new work at once begin : Untroubled night, they say, gives counsel best." ' [bin," " Right well. Sir Knight, ye have advised Quoth then that aged man ; ' ' the way to win Is wisely to advise. Now day is spent : Therefore with me ye may take up your inn For this same night." The knight was well content : [went. So with that godly father to his home they XXXIV. A little lowly hermitage it was, Down in a dale, hard by a forest's side, Far from resort of people, that did pass In travel to and fro : a little wide There was an holy chapel edified, Wherein the hermit duly wont to say His holy things each morn and eventide : Thereby a crystal stream did gently play. Which from a sacred fountain welled forth alway. XXXV. Arrived there, the little house they fill, ' Ne look for entertainment, wliere none v.as ; Rest is their feast, and all things at their will : The noblest mind the best contentment has. With fair discourse the evening so they pass. For that old man of pleasing words had store, [glass : And well could file his tongue, as smooth as He told of saints and popes, and evermore He strow'd an Ave-Mary after and before. XXXVI. The drooping night thus creepeth on them fast ; And the sad humour loading their eye-lids, As messenger of Morpheus, on them cast Sweet slumb'ring dew, the which to sleep them bids. Unto their lodgings then his guests he riddes : Where -when all drown'd in deadly sleep he finds, He to his study goes ; and there amids His magic books, and arts of sundry kinds, He seeks out mighty charms to trouble sleepy minds. XXXVII. Then choosing out few words most horrible, (Let none them read !) thereof did verses frame : With which, and other spells Uke terrible. He bade awake black Pluto's grisly dame ; And cursed Heaven ; and spake reproachful shame Of highest God, the Lord of life and light. A bold bad man! that dared to call by name Great Gorgon, prince of darkness and dead night ; [to flight. At which Cocytus quakes, and Styx is put XXXVIII. And forth he call'd out of deep darkness dread [flies. Legions of sprights, the which, like httle Flutt'ring about his ever-damned head. Await whereto tlieir service he applies, To aid his friends, or fray his enemies : Of those he chose out two, the falsest two. And fittest for to forge true-seeming lies ; The one of them he gave a message to. The other by himself stay'd other work to do. XXXIX. He, making speedy way through spcrsed air. And through the world of waters wide and deep. To Morpheus' house doth hastily repair. Amid the bowels of the eartli full steep. And low, where dawning day doth never peep. His dwelling is ; there Tethys his wet bed Doth ever wash, and Cynthia still doth steep I In silver dew his ever-drooping head, . Whiles sad Night over him her mantle black > doth spread ' [book t. XL. Whose double gates he findeth locked fast ; The one fair framed of burnish'd ivory, The other all with silver overcast ; And wakeful dogs before them far do lie, Watching to banish Care their enemy, Who oft is wont to trouble gentle Sleep. By them the spright doth pass in quietly, And unto Morpheus comes, whom drowned deep [keep. In drowsy fit he finds ; of nothing he takes XLI. And, more, to lull him in his slumber soft, A trickling stream from high rock tumbling down, And ever-drizzling rain upon the loft, [sowne Mixt with a murmuring wind, much like the Of swarming bees, did cast him in a swoon. No other noise, nor people's troublous cries. As still are wont t' annoy the walled town. Might there be heard : but careless Quiet lies W^rapt in eternal silence far from enemies. XLII. The messenger approaching to him spalce ; But his waste words return'd to him in vain : So sound he slept, that nought might him awake. [pain. Then rudely he him thrust, and push'd with Whereat he gan to stretch : but he again Shook him so hard, that forced him to speak. As one then in a dream, whose drier brain Is tost with troubled sights and fancies weak. He mumbled soft, but would not all his silence break. XLIII. The spright then gan more boldlyhim to wake, And threaten'd unto him the dreaded name Of Hecate : wliereat he gan to quake, And, lifting up his lumpish head, with blame Half angry asked liim, for what he came. " Hither," quoth he, "me Archiniago sent. He that the stubborn sprights can wisely tame, He bids thee to him send for his intent A fit false Dream, that can delude the sleepers' scent." XT. IV. The god obey'd ; and, calling forth straight way A diverse dream out of his prison dark, Deliver'd it to him, and down did lay His heavy head, devoid of careful cark ; Whose senses all were straight benumb'd and stark. He, back returning by the ivory door, Remounted up as light as cheerful lark ; And on his little wings the Dream he bore In hasteunto his lord, whcrehehim leftaforc. XLV. Who all this while, with charms and hidden arts. Had made a lady of that other spright, And framed of liquid air her tender parts, !-o lively, and so hke in all men's sight, That weaker sense it could have ravish'd quite ; The maker's self for all his wondrous wit. Was nigh beguiled with so goodly sight. Her all in white he clad, and over it ^fit. Cast a black stole, most like to seem for Una XLVI. r\'ow when that idle Dream was to liim brought, Unto that elftii knight he bad him fly. Where he slept soundly void of evil thought. And with false shows abuse his fantasy ; In sort as he him schooled privily. And that new creature, born without her due, Full of the maker's guile, with usage sly He taught to imitate that lady true, [hue. Whose semblance she did carry under feigned XLVir. Thus, well instructed, to their work they haste ; [lay. And, coming where the knight in slumber The one upon his hardy head him placed, And made him dream of loves and lustful play ; That nigh his manly heart did melt away, Bathed in wanton bliss and wicked joy : Then seemed him, his lady by him lay, [boy And to him 'plain'd, how that false winged Her chaste heart had subdued to learn dame Pleasure's toy. XLV I IT, And, she herself, of beauty sovereign queen, Fair Venus, sccm'd unto his bed to bring Her, whom he, waking, evermore did ween 1 To be the chastest flow'r that aye did spring On earthly branch, the daughter of a king, Now a loose Icman to vile service bound : And eke the Graces seemed all to sing, Hymen Id Hyvicn, dancing all around ; Whilst freshest Flora her with ivy garland crown'd. XLTX. In this great passion of unwonted lust. Or wonted fear of doing ought amiss. He starteth up, as seeming to mistrust Some secret ill, or hidden foe of his : Lo, there before his face his lady is. Under black stole hiding her baited hook ; And as half blushing offer'd him to kiss With gentle blandishment and lovely look, Most like that virgin true, which for hei knight him took, L. All clean dismay'd to see so uncouth sight. And half enraged at her shameless guise. He thought have slain her in his fierce despite, [wise. But, hasty heat temp'ring with sufferance He stay'd his hand ; and gan himself advise CANTO I.] To prove his sense, and tempt her feigned truth. [wise, Wringing her hands, in women's piteous Tho can she weep, to stir up gentle ruth Both for her noble blood, and for her tender youth. LI. And said, " Ah, sir, my Hege lord, and my love. Shall I accuse the hidden cruel fate, And mighty causes wrought in heaven above, Or the blind god, that doth me thus amate, P'or hoped love to win me certain hate ? Yet thus perforce he bids me do, or die. Die is my due ; yet rue my wretched state, You, whom my hard avenging destiny Hath made judge of my life or deatli in- differently : LII, " Your own dear sake forced me at first to leave [tears ; My father's kingdom " — there she stopt with Her swollen heart her speech seem'd to bereave. And then again begun ; " My weaker years, Captived to fortune and frail worldly fears, Fly to your faith for succour and sure aid : Let me not die in languor and long tears." "Why, dame," quoth he, "what hath ^-e thus dismay'd ? [me affray'd ? " What frayes ye, that were wont to comfort Liir. "Love of yourself," she said, "and dear constraint, Lets me not sleep, but waste the weary night In secret anguish and unpitied plaint. Whiles you in careless sleep are drowned quite. ' ' [knight Her doubtful words made that redoubted Suspect her truth ; yet since no' untruth he knew. Her fawning love w4th foul disdainful spite He would not shend, but said, "Dear dame, I rue [you gre\v : That for my sake unknown such grief unto LIV. "Assure yourself, it fell not all to ground ; For all so dear, as life is to my heart, I deem your love, and hold me to you bound : [smart, Xe let vain fears procure your needless Where cause is none ; but to your rest de- part." Not all content, yet seem'd she to appease Her mournful plaints, beguiled of her art, And fed with words, that could not choose but please ; [ease. So, sliding softly forth, she tum'd as to her LV. Long after lay he musing at her mood, Much grieved to think that gentle dame so light, For whose defence he was to shed his blood. At last dull weariness of former fight Having yrock'd asleep his irksome spright. That troublous Dream gan freshly toss his brain [delight : With bow'rs, and beds, and ladies' dear But, when he saw his labour all was vain. With that misformed spright he back re- lurn'd again. CANTO 11. The guileful great enchanter parts The Kedcross knight from Truth : Into whose stead fair Falsehood steps, And works him woful ruth. Bv this the northern waggoner had set His sevenfold team behind the steadfast star That was in ocean waves yet never wet,* But firm is fixt, and sendeth light from far To all that in the wide deep wand'ring are ; And cheerful chanticleer with his note shrill Had warned once, that Phcebus' fiery car In haste was climbing up the eastern hill, Full envious that Night so long his room did fill: II. When those accursed messengers of hell, That feigning Dream, and that fair- forged spright, ♦ The Pole Star. Cahie to their wicked master, and gan tell Their bootless pains, and ill-succeeding night : Who, all in rage to see his skilful might Deluded so, gan threaten hellish pain And sad Proserpine's wratli, them to affright. But, when he saw his threat'ning was but vain, He cast about, and search'd his baleful books again. III. Eftsoones he took that miscreated Fair, And that false other spright, on whom he spread A seeming body of the subtile air, Like a. young squire, in loves and lustyhed His wanton days that ever loosely led, 8 [book I. Without regard of arms and dreaded fight ; Those two he took, and in a secret bed, Cover'd witli darkness and misdeeming night, [delight. Them both together laid, to joy in vain IV. Forthwith he runs with feigned-faithful haste Unto his guest, who, after troublous sights And dreams, gan now to take more sound repast ; [frights. Whom suddenly he wakes with fearful As oneaghast with fiends or damned sprights. And to him calls ; " Rise, rise, unhappy swain, [wights That here wax old in sleep, whiles wicked Have knit themselves, in Venus' shameful chain : [honour stain. Come, see where your false lady doth her V. All in a maze he suddenly up start [went ; With sword in hand, and with the old man Who soon him brought into a secret part, W^here that false couple were full closely ment In wanton lust and lewd embracemcnt : Wliich when he saN\-, he burnt with jealous fire ; The eye of reason was with rage yblent ; And would have slain them in his furious ire. But hardly was restrained of that aged sire. vr. Returning to his bed in torment great. And bitter anguish of his guilty sight, He could not rest ; but did his stout heart eat, [p'te, And waste his inward s^all with deep des- Irksome of life, and too long ling'ring night. At last fair Hesperus in highest sky Had spent his lamp, and brought forth dawning light ; Then up he rose, and clad him hastily ; The dwarf him brought his steed : so both away do fly. VII. Now when the rosy-fingered Morning fair, Weary of aged Tithone's saffron bed. Had spread her purple robe through dewy air. And the high hills Titan discovered. The royal virgin shook off drousyhed : And, rising forth out of her baser bow'r, Look'd for her knight, who far away was fled, And for her dwarf, that wont to wait each hour : — [woful stowre. Then gan she wail and weep to see that VIII. And after him she rode with so much speed. As her slow beast could make ; but all in vain : For him so far had borne his light-foot steed, Pricked with wrath and fiery fierce disdain, That him to follow was but fruitless pain : Yet she her weary limbs would never rest ; But every hill and dale, each wood and plain, Did search, sore grieved in her gentle breast, He so ungently left her, whom she loved best. IX. But subtle Archimago, when his guests He saw divided into double parts. And Una wand'ring in woods and forests, (Th' end of his drift, ) he praised his devilish arts, [hearts : That had such might over true meaning Yet rests not so, but other means doth make. How he may work unto her further smarts : For her he hated as the hissing snake, And in her many troubles did most pleasure take. X. He then devised himself how to disguise ; For by his mighty science he could take As many forms and sliapes in seeming wise, As ever Proteus to himself could make : Sometime a fowl, sometime a fish in lake, Now like a fox, now like a dragon fell ; That of himself, he oft for fear would quake, And oft would fly away. O who can tell The hidden pow'r of herbs, and might of magic spell ! XI. But now seem'd best the person to put on Of that good knight, his late beguiled guest: — In mighty arms he was yclad anon. And silver shield ; upon his coward breast, A bloody cross, and on his craven crest A bunch of hairs discolour'd diversely. Full jolly knight he seem'd, and well ad- dress'd ; And, when he sate upon his courser free, Saint George himself ye would have deemed him to be. XII. But he, the knight, whose semblaunt he did bear, [away. The tmc Saint George was w-and'red far Still flyingfrom his thoughtsand jealousfear: Will was his guide, and grief led him astray. .\t last him chanced to meet upon the way A faithless Saracen, all arm'd to point, In whose great shield was writ witli letters gay Satts foy; full large of limb and every joint He was, and cared notfor God or man a point. XIII. He had a fair companion of his way, A goodly lady clad in scarlet red, Purfled with gold and pearl of ricli assay ; And like a Persian mitre on her head Shewore, with crowns and owches garnished. The which her lavish lovers to her gave : Her wanton palfrey all was overspread With tinsel trappings, woven like a wave, Whose bridle rung with golden bells and bosses brave. CANTO II.] XIV. iWith fair disport, and courting dalliance, / She entertain'd her lover all the way : [vance, Ijiit, when she saw the knight his spear ad- Slie soon left off her mirth and wanton play. And bade her knight address him to the fray ; His foe was nigh at hand. He prick'd with pride. And hope to win his lady's heart that day. Forth spuxTed fast ; adown his courser's side The red blood trickling stain'd the way, as he did ride. XV. J^ knight of tlie Redcross, when him he Spurring so hot with rage dispiteous, [spied Gan fairly couch his spear, and towards ride : Soon meet they both, both fell and furious, That, daunted with their forces hideous. Their steeds do stagger, and amazed stand ; And eke themselves, too rudely rigorous, Astonied with the stroke of their own hand, Do back rebutt, and each to other yieldeth land. XVI. As when two rams, stirr'd with ambitious pride, Fight for the rule of the rich-fleeced flock. Their horned fronts so fierce on either side Do meet, tliat, with the terror of the shock Astonied, both stand senseless as a block, Forgetful of the hanging victory : So stood these twain, unmoved as a rock, Both staring fierce, and holding idely The broken reliques of their former cruelty. XVII. he Saracen, sore daunted with the buff, inotchethhis sword, and fiercely to him flics ; Wlio well it wards, and quiteth cuff" with cuff : Each other's equal puissance envies, And through their iron sides with cruel spies Does seek to pierce ; repining courage yields No foot to foe : the flashing ficr flies, As from a forge, out of their burning shields ; And streams of purple blood new dye the verdant fields. XVIII. " Curse on that cross," quoth then the Saracen, " That keeps thy body from the bitter fit ; Dead long ago, I wote, thou haddest bin, Had not that charm from thee forwarned it : But yet I warn thee now assured sit, [crest And hide thy head." Therewith upon his With rigour so outrageous he smit, That a large share it hcw'd out of the rest. And glancing down his shield from blame him fairly blest. XIX. Who, thereat wondrous wroth, the sleeping spark Of native virtue gan eftsoones revive ; And, at his haughty helmet making mark, So hugely stroke, that it the steel did rive. And cleft his head : he, tumbling down alive, With bloody mouth his mother earth did kiss Greeting his grave : his grudging ghost did strive With the frail flesh : at last it flitted is, Whither the souls do fly of men, that live amiss. XX. The lady, when she saw her champion fall, Like the old ruins of a broken tow'r, Stay'd not to wail his woful funeral. But from him fled away with all her pow'r : Who after her as hastily gan scour, Bidding the dwarf with him to bring away The Saracen's shield, sign of the conqueror : Her soon he overtook, and bad to stay ; For present cause was none of dread her to dismay. XXI. She turning back, with rueful countenance Cried, " Mercy, mercy, sir, vouchsafe to show On silly dame, subject to hard mischance. And to your mighty will. ' ' Her humblcsse low In so rich weeds, and seeming glorious show, Did much emmove his stout heroic heart ; And said, " Dear dame, your sudden over- throw Much rueth me ; but now put fear apart. And tell both who ye be, and who that took your part." XXII. Melting in tears, then gan she thus lament : ' ' The wretched woman, whom unhappy hour Hath now made thrall to your commande- ment, Before that angry heavens list to lour. And fortune false betray'd me to your pow'r ^^'as, (O what now availeth that I was ! ) Born the sole daughter of an emperor ; He that the wide west under his rule has. And high hath set his throne where Tiberls doth pass. xxiri. " He, in the first flow'r of my freshest age, Betrothed me unto the only heir Of a most mighty king, most rich and sage ; Was never prince so faithful and so fair, \\'as never prince so meek and debonaire ! But, ere my hoped day of spousal shone, My dearest lord fell from high honour's stair Into the hands of his accursed fone, And cruelly was slain ; that shall I ever moan ! XXIV. " His blessed body, spoil'd of lively breath. Was afterward, I know not how, convey'd. And fro me hid ; of whose most innocent death When tidings came to me, unhappy maid, lO THE FAERY QUEE.V. [book I. O, how great sorrow my sad soul assaid I Then forth I went his \\ocful corse to find, And many years throughout the world I stray'd, A virgin widow ; whose deep-wounded mind With love long time did languish, as the stricken hind. XXV. "At last it chanced thisproud Saracen To meet mewand'ring ; who perforce me led With him away ; but yet could never win The fort, that ladies hold in sovereign dread. There lies he now with foul dishonour dead, Who, vvliiitis he lived, was called proud ^ansfo^ The eldest of' three brethren ; all thregbred Of one bad sire, whose youngest is ^ansjoyT' And twixt thern both was born the bloody bold Sansloyl XXVI. " In this said plight, friendless, unfortunate, Now miserable I Fidessa dwell. Craving of you in pity of my state, To do none ill, if please ye not do well." He in great passion all this while did dwell, More busying his quick eyes, her face to view, Than his dull ears, to hear what she did tell ; And said, "Fair lady, heart of flint would rue The undeserved woes and sorrows which ye shew. xxvir. " Henceforth in safe assurance may ye rest, Having both found a new friend you to aid, And lost an old foe that did you molest : Better new friend than an old foe is said. " Witli change of cheer the seeming-simple maid Let fall her eyen, as shamefast, to the earth, Andyieldmg soft, in that she nought gainsaid. So forth they rode, he feigning seemly mirth. And she coy looks : so dainty, they say, maketh dearth. XXVIII, Long time they thus together travelled ; Till, weary of their way, they came at last Where grew two goodly trees, that fair did spread Their arms abroad, with gray moss overcast ; And their green leaves, trembling with every blast, !Made a calm shadow far in compass round : The fearful shepherd, often there aghast, Under them never sat, nc wont there sound His merry oaten pipe ; but shunn'd th' un- lucky ground. XXIX. But this good knight, soon as he them can spy> For the cool shade him thither hast'ly got ; For golden Phoebus, now ymounted high, From fiery wheels of his fair chariot Hurled his beam so scorching cruel hot, That living creature might it not abide ; And his new lady it endured not. [hide There they alight, in hope themselves to From the fierce heat, and rest their weary limbs a tide. XXX. Fair-seemly pleasance each to other makes, With goodly purposes, there as they sit ; And in his falsed fancy he her takes To be the fairest wight, that lived yit ; * Which to express, he bends his gentle wit ; And, thinking of those branches green to frame A garland for her dainty forehead fit, [came He pluck'd a bough ; out of whose rift there Small drops of gory blood, that trickled down the same. XXXI. Therewith a piteous yelling voice was heard, Cr\ing, " O spare with guilty hands to tear My tender sides in this rough rind embarr'd; But fly, ah ! fly far hence away, for fear Lest to you hap, that happen'd to me here, And to this wretched lady, my dear love ; O too dear love, love bought with death too dear !" Astond he stood, and up his hair did hove ; And with that sudden horror could no mem- ber move. XXXII. At last vvhenas the dreadful passion \\'as overpast, and manhood well awake ; Yet musing at the strange occasion, [spake : And doubting much his sense, he thus be- " What voice of damned ghost from Limbo lake. Or guileful spright wand 'ring in empty air, ( Both which frail men do oftentimes mistake, ) Sends to my doubtful ears these speeches rare, [blood to spare?" And rueful plaints, me bidding guiltless XXXIII. Then, groaning deep; " Xor damned ghost," quoth he, [doth speak ; ' ' Nor guileful spright, to thee these words But once a man, ^Fiadubio, now a tree ; Wretched man, wretched tree ! whose na- ture weak A cruel witch , her cursed \nll to wxeak, [plains , Hath thus transform'd, and placed in open Where Boreas doth blow full bitter bleak, And scorching sun does dry my secret veins ; For though a tree I seem, yet cold and heat me pains." XXXIV. " Say on, Fradubio, then, or man or tree," Quoth then the knight ; "by w hose mis- chievous arts • Vet. CANTO II.] Art thou misshaped thus, as now I see? He oft finds med'cine who his grief imparts ; But double griefs afflict conceakng hearts ; As raging flames who striveth to suppress." "The author then," said he, "of all my smarts, Is_one Duessa, a false sorceress. This many errant knights hath brought to wretchedness. XXXV. " Inprime ofyouthly years, when couragehot The fire of love and joy of chivalry First kindled in my breast, it was my lot To love this gentle lady, whom ye see Now not a lady, but a seeming tree ; AVith whom as once I rode accompanied, Me chanced of a knight encounter'd be, That had a like fair lady by his side ; Like a fair lady, but did foul Duessa hide ; XXXVI. " Whose forged beauty he did take in hand All other dames to have exceeded far ; I in defence of mine did likewise stand, [star. Mine, that did then shine as the morning So both to battle fierce arranged are ; In which his harder fortune was to fall Under my spear ; such is the die of war. His lady, left as a prize martial, [call. Did yield her comely person to be at my XXXVII. " So doubly loved of ladies unlike fair, Th' one seeming such, the other such indeed, One day in doubt I cast for to compare Whether in beauty's glory did exceed ; A rosy garland was the victor's meed, [be ; Both seem'd to win, and both seem'd won to So hard the discord was to be agreed. Freelissa was as fair, as fair mote be. And ever false Duessa seem'd as fair as she. XXXVIII. ' ' The wicked witch, now seeing all this wh'jie The doubtful balance equally to sway, What not by right, she cast to win by <" ruilc ; And, by her hcUish science, raised '^'trai^-ht way A foggy mist that overcast the dr-jy. And a dull blast that breatliing -'on her face Dimmed her former beauty's "^^liining rav, And with foul ugly form did - l^er dis^-race ; Then was she Vair alone. ;^\vhen no^ne was fair in place. -y xxx'.:^. "Then cried she o^at, * Fie, fie, deformed wight 'P [plain Whose borro' -,\V'ti beauty now appcareth To have bef'-.^i-e bewitch d all men's sight : O leave ^^^'^lisoon, or let Is-r soon be slain ! ' HerAind thei.;^,^^^ viewing with disdain. Efts pent : ^ ^^^j. c^y^^^ ^^ si^g x\\c told, And • that old woman cu.,.. . i^;,^ ^..^h feigned . her beads, devoutly penii^ The false witch did my \\rathful hanu. . hold; So left her, where she now is tura'd to treen mould. XL. " Thenceforth I took Duessa for my dame, And in the witcli unweeting joy'd long time ; Xe ever wist, but that she was the same : Till on a day (that day is every prime, \M:ien witches wont do penance for their crime,) I chanced to see her in her proper hue, Bathing her self in origan and thyme : A filthy foul old woman I did view, [rue. . That ever to have touch'tl her I did deadly XLI. " Her nether parts misshapen monstruous, ^\'ere hid in water, that I could not see ; But they did seem more foul and hideous, Than woman's shape nian would believe to be. Thenceforth from her most beastly company I gan refrain, in m-md to slip away. Soon as appear'd safe opportunity : For danger great', if not assui-ed decay, I saw before mi'ae eyes, if I were known to stray. XLII. " The devil'ish hag, by changes of my cheer, Perceived my thought ; and, drown'd in sle;epy night, [smear With wi.tked herbs and ointments did be- My bo And her due loves derived to that vile witch's share. III. Yet she,_most faithful lady, all this while Forsaken, woful, solitary "maid. Far from all people's preace, as in exile, In wilderness and wasteful deserts stray'd. To seek her knight ; who, subtilely betrav'd Through that late vision which th' enchanter wrought, Had her abandon'd ; she of nouglit afraid. Through woods andwastnes widehinVdailv sought, [brought. Yet wished tidings none of him unto her IV. One day, nigh weary of the irksome wav, "^rom her unhasty beast she did alight ; ' nd on the grass her dainty limbs did lav I secret shadow, far from all men's sight ; oni,rV^'=)fair head her fillet she undight, tVX? \i?'" stole aside : Her angel's face. As the great eye of heaven, shined bright. And made a sunshine in the shady place ; Did never mortal eye behold such heavenly grace. V. It fortuned, out of the thickest wood A ramping lion rushed suddenly. Hunting full greedy after savage blood. Soon as the royal virgin he did spy, With gaping mouth at her ran gxeedilv". To have at once dcvour'd her tender corse ; But to the prey when as he drew more nigh, His bloody rage assuaged with remorse. And, with the sight amazed, forgat his furious force. VI. Instead thereof, he kiss'd her weary feet, And lick'd her lily hands with fawning tongue ; As he tier, ^vronged innocence did weet. O. how can beauty master the most And simple truth subdue avengins^ Whose yielded pride and proud submi .Still dreadmg death, when she had marked long, HeV heart gan melt in great compassion ; And t^rizzhng tears did shed for pure affection, \ VII. " The Ik^n, lord of every beast in field," Quoth sliiS. "his princely puissance doth abath- ' Tyi^'ld, And mighty \P'"0^d ^o humble weak does Forgetftii of \\^ hungry rage, which late Him prick'd in jTWty of my sad estate :— But he, my lion, c-f.^^l ^ly noble lord, How does he find in'^- cruel heart to hate Her, that him loved. "S^^ e^'^'" "^^st adored As the god of my life ? wJ^i)' l^^^h he me ab- horr'd? " ' , Redounding tears did choke th,"^''''''^ °^ ^'^^ plaint, M ^^hoDod ; Which softly echoed f-- ^o^^r And, sad to see hp— ^' The kinglv b^^- * Vet. ; .veet. , ; strong, II wrong! 1/ amission, ' CANTO III.] n With pity calm'd, down fell his angry mood. At iastrin close heart shutting up her pain, Arose the ^•irgin, born of heavenly brood, And to Her snowy palfrey got again, To seek her strayed champion if she might attain. IX. The lion would not leave her desolate, But withTier went along, as a strong guard Of her chaste person, and a faithful mate Of her sad troubles and misfortunes hard ; Still, when she slept, he kept both \\atch and \\ard ; And, when she waked, he waited diligent, With humble service to her will prepared : From her fair eyes he took commandemeiit, And ever by her looks conceived her intent. X. Long she thus travelled through deserts wide, By which she thought her wand'ring knight should pass, Yet never show of living wight espied ; Till thatatlengthshefoundthe troddengrass. In which the track of people's footing was. Under the steep foot of a mountain hoar ; The same she follows, till at last she has A damsel spied slow-footing her before. That on her shoulders sad a pot of water bore. XI. To whom approaching, she to her gan call, To weet, if dwelling-place were nigh at hand: But the rude wench her answer'd nought at all ; [stand : She could not hear, nor speak, nor under- Till, seeing by her side the lion stand, With sudden fear her pitcher down she threw And fled away ; for never in that land Face of fair lady she before did view, And that dread hon's look her cast in deadly hue. XII. Full fast she fled, ne ever look'd behind, As if her life upon the wager lay ; And home she came, whereas her mother blind [say ; Sate in eternal night ; nought could she But, sudden catching hold, did her dismay With quaking hands, and other signs of fear; Who, full of ghastly fright and cold aff"ray, Gan shut the door. By this arrived there Dame Una, weary dame, and entrance did requere : XIII. Which when none yielded, her unruly page With his rude claws the wicket open rent, And let her in ; where, of his cruel rage Nigh dead with fear, and faint astonishment, She found them both in darksome corner pent : [pray Where that old woman day and night did Upon her beads, devoutly penitent ; Nine hundred Paterjiosters every day, Alicr thrice nine hundred Avcs, she was wont to say. XIV. And, to augment her painful penance more, Thrice every week in ashes she did sit, And next her wrinkled skin, rough sackcloth wore And thrice-three times did fast from any bit : But now for fear her beads she did forget. Whose needless dread for to remove away, Fair Una framed words and count'nance fit ; [them pray. Which hardly done, at length she gan That in their cottage small that night she rest her may. XV. The day is spent ; and cometh drowsy night, WHien every creature shrouded is in sleep ; Sad Una down her lay in weary plight. And at her feet the lion watch doth keep ; In stead of rest, she does lament, and weep. For the late loss of her dear-loved knight, And sighs, and groans, and evermore does steep Her tender breast in bitter tears all night ; ; All night she thinks too long, and often looks for light. XVI. Now when Aldeboran was mounted high, Above the shiny Cassiopeia's chair. And all in deadly sleep did drowned lie, One knocked at the door, and in would fare He knocked fast, and often curst, and sware. That ready entrance was not at his call ; For on his back a heavy load he bare Of nightly stealths, and piUage several. Which he had got abroad by purchase criminal. XVII, He waSj to weet, a stout and sturdy thief. Wont to rob churches of their ornaments, And poor men's boxes of their due rehef, Wliich given was to them for good intents : The holy saints of their rich vestiments He did disrobe, when all men careless slept ; And spoil'd the priests of their habiliments; Whiles none the holy things in safety kept. Then he by cunning sleights in at the window crept. XVIII. And all, that he by right or wi'ong could find. Unto this house he brought, and did bestow Upon the daughter of this woman blind, Abessa, daughter of Corceca slow, [know, With whom he whoredom used that few did And fed her fat with feast of offerings, And plenty, which in all the land did grow; Ne spared he to give her gold and rings : And now he to her brought part of his stolen things. 14 [book I. XIX. Thus, long the door with rage and threats he bet ; Yet of those fearful women none durst rise, (The lion frayed them, ) him in to let ; He would no longer stay him to advise, But open breaks the door in furious wise, And ent'ring is ; when that disdainful beast, Encount'ring fierce, him sudden doth sur- prize ; And seizing cruel claws on trembling breast. Under his lordly foot him proudly hath supprest. XX. Him booteth not resist, nor succour call. His bleeding heart is in the venger's hand ; Who straiglit him rent in thousand pieces small, [land And quite dismemb'red hath : the thirsty Drank up his life ; his corse left on the strand. His fearful friends wear out the woful night, Ne dare to weep, nor seem to understand The heavy hap, wliich on them is alight ; Afraid, lest to themselves the like mis- happen might. xxr. Now when broad day the world discover'd Up Una rose, up rose the lion eke ; [has. And on their former journey forward pass, In ways unknown, her wand'ring knight to seek, [Greek, With pains far passing that long-wand'ring That for his love refused deity : Such were the labours of this lady meek, Still seeking him, that from her still did fly ; Then furthest from her hope, when most she weened nigh. XXII. Soon as she parted thence, the fearful twain. Thai bhnd old woman, and her daughter dear, [slain , Came forth ; and, finding Kirkrapine there For anguish great theygan to rend their hair, And beat their breasts, and naked flesh to tear : [their fill, And when they both had wept and wail'd Then forth they ran, like two amazed deer, Half mad through malice and revengingwill, To follow her, that was the causer of their ill: XXIIT. Whom overtaking, they gan loudly bray, With hollow howling, and lamenting cry ; Shamefully at her railing all the way, And her accusing of dishonesty, That was the flow'r of faith and chastity : And still, amidst her railing, she did pray That plagues, and mischiefs, and long misery, ^Iight fall on her, and follow all the way ; And that in endless error she might ever strav. XXIV. But , when she saw her prayers nought prevail, She back returned with some labour lost ; And in the way, as she did weep and wail, A knight her met in mighty arms embost, Yet knight was not for all his bragging boast ; Bi;^ subtle Archimag, that Una sought By traynes into nevv' troubles to have toss'd : Of that old woman tidings he besought, If that of such a lady she could tellen ought. XXV. Therewith she gan her passion to renew, And cry, and curse, and rail, and rend her hair. Saying, that harlot she too lately knew, That caused her shed so many a bitter tear ; And so fortli told the story of her fear. Much seemed he to moan her hapless chance. And after for that lady did inquere ; Whichbeing taught, he forward gan advance Hisfairenchantedsteed, and eke his charmed lance. XXVI. i Ere long he came where Una travell'd slow, f And that wild champion waiting her beside ; Whom seeing such, for dread he durst not show Himself too nigh at hand, but turned wide Unto an hill ; from whence when she him spied, [name By his like-seeming shield her knight by She ween'd it was, and towards him gan ride; Approaching nigh she wist it was the same ; And with fair fearfuLhumblesse^owards him she came : XXVII. I And weeping said, "Ah my long-lacked lord, ^ Where have ye been thus long out of my sight? Much feared I to have been quite abhorr'd. Or ought have done, that ye displeasen might, ^lig'it ; That should as death unto my dear heart For since mine eye your joyous sight did miss. My cheerful day is turn'd to cheerless night, .\nd eke my night of death the shadow is : But welcome now, my light, and shining lamp of bliss !" XXVIII. He thereto meeting said, "My dearest dame. Far be it from your thought, and fro my will. To think that knighthood I so much should shame. As you to leave that have me loved still, And chose in Faery court, of mere goodwill, Where noblest knights v>ere to be found on earth. The earth shall sooner leave her kindly skill To bring forth fruit, and make eternal dearth. Then I leave you, ra}' life, yborn of heavenly birth. CANTO III,] THE FAERY QUEEN, 15 XXIX, "And sooth to say, why I left you so long-, Was for to seek adventure in strange place ; /here, Archimago said, a felon strong o many knights did daily work disgrace ; But knight he now shall never more deface : Good cause of mine excuse that mote ye please Well to accept, and evermore embrace My faithful service, that by land and seas Have vow'd you to defend : now then your plaint appease." XXX. His lovely words her seem'd due recompence Of all her passed pains ; one loving hour For many years of sorrow can dispense ; A dram of sweet is worth a pound of sour. She has forgot how many a woeful stowre For him she late endured ; she speaks no more [pow'r Of past : true is, that true love hath no To looken back ; his eyes be fixt before. Before her stands her knight, for whom she toil'd so sore, XXXI. Much like, as when the beaten mariner, That long hath wand'red in the ocean wide, Oft soused in swelling Tethys' saltish tear ; And long time having tann'd his tawny hide With blust'ring breath of heaven, that none can bide, [hound ;'-'' And scorching flames of fierce Orion's Soon as the port from far he has espied, His cheerful whistle merrily doth sound. And Nereus crowns with cups ; his mates him pledge around : XXXII. Such joy made Una, when her knight she found ; And eke th' enchanter joyous seem'd no less Than the glad merchant, that does \dew from ground His ship far come from watery wilderness ; He hurls out vows, and Neptune oft doth bless. [spent So forth they pass'd ; and all the way they Discoursing of her dreadful late distress, In which he ask'd her, wliat the lion meant ; Who told her all that fell in journey, as she went. XXXIII. They had not ridden fnr, when they might see One pricking towards them with hasty heat. Full strongly arm'd, and on a courser free, That through his fierceness foamed all ^^•ith sweat, And the sharp iron did for anger eat, When his hot rider spurr'd his chafed side ; * Sirius, or the Dog Star, so called by Homer. — JORTIN. His look was stern, and seemed still to threat CrTjetlSvenge, which he in, heart did hide : And on his shield Sans loy^ in bloody lines was dyed. XXXIV. When nigh he drew unto tb.is gentle pair, And saw the red cross, which the knight did bear. He burnt-in fire ; andgan eftsoones prepare Himself to battle with his couched spear. Loth was that other, and did faint through fear. To taste th' untried dint of deadly steel : But yet his lady did so well him cheer. That hope of new good hap he gan to feel ; So bent his spear, and spurr'd his horse with iron heel. XXXV. But that proud Paynim forward came so fierce [spear, And full of wrath, that, \vith his sharp-head Through vainly crossed shield he quite did pierce ; [fear. And, had his staggering steed not shrunk for Through shield and body eke he should him bear : Yet, so great was the puissance of his push, That from his saddle qtiite he did him bear : He tumbling rudely down to ground did rush, And from his gored wound a well of blood did gush. XXXVI. Dismounting lightly from his lofty steed. He to him leapt, in mind to reave his life, And^groudly saidj^ " Lo, there the worthy meed Of him, that slew Sansfoy with bloody knife ; Henceforth his ghost, freed from repining strife. In peace may passen over Lethe lake ; [life, W^hen mourning altars, purged with enemy's The black infernal furies do aslake : LJfe from Sansfoy thou tookst, Sausloy shall from thee take." XXXVII. Therewith in haste his helmet gan imlace, Till Una cried, " O hold that heavy hand, Dear sir, whatever that thou be in place : Enough is, that thy foe doth van4uish'd stand Now at thy mercy ; mercy not withstand ; For he is one the truest knight alive. Though conquer'd now he lie on lowly land : And, whilest him fortune favour'd, fair did thrive [privc. " In bloody field ; therefore of life him not dc- XXXVIII. Her piteoits words might not abate his rage ; But, rudely rending up his helmet, would Have slain him straight ; but when he sees his age. And hoarv head of Archimago old. i6 His hasty hand he doth amazed hold, And, half ashamed, wond'ied at the sight : For the old man well knew he, though un- told, [might ; In charms and magic to have wondrous Neeverwontinfield, ne in round lists to fight; XXXIX. And said, " Why, Archimago, luckless sire. What do I see ? what hard mishap is this, That hath thee hither brought to taste mine ire? Or thine the fault, or mine the error is, Instead of foe to wound my friend amiss ? " He answered nought, but in a trance still lay. And on those guilefixl dazed eyes of his The cloud of death did sit ; which done away, [stay : He left him lying so, ne would no longer XL. But to the virgin comes ; who all this while Amazed stands, herself so mock'd to see By him, who has the guerdon of his guile, For so misfeigning her true knight to be : Yet is she now in more perplexity. Left in the hand of that same Paynim bold, From whom her booteth not at all to flee : Wlio, by her cleanly garment catching hold, Her from her palfrey pluck'd, her visage to behold. XLI. But her fierce servant, full of kingly awe And high disdain, M'henashis sovereign dame So rudely handled by her foe he saw, With gaping jaws full greedy at him came, And, rampingonhisshield, did ween the same Have reft away with his sharp rending claws : But he was stout, and lust did now inflame His courage more, that from his griping paws He hath his shield redeem'd ; and forth his sword he draws. XLII. O then, too weak and feeble was the force Of savage beast, his puissance to withstand ! For he was strong, and of so mighty corse. As ever wielded spear in warlike hand ; And feats of arms did wisely understand. Eftsooneshe pierced through his chafed chest With thrilling point of deadly iron brand, And lanced his lordly heart : with death opprest [stubborn breast. He roar'cl aloud, whiles life forsook his XLIII. Who now is left to keep the forlorn maid From raging spoil of lawless victor's will? Her faithful guard removed ; her hope dis- may'd ; Herself a yielded prey to save or spill ! He now, lord of the field, his pride to fill. With foul reproaches and disdainful spite Her vilely entertains ; and, will or nill. Bears her away upon his courser light : Her_ prayers nought prevail : his rage is more of might. XLIV. And all the way, with great lamenting pain, And piteous plaints, she filleth his dull ears, That stony heart could riven have in twain ; And all the way she wets with flowing tears ; But he, enraged with rancour, nothing hears. Her servile beast yet would not leave her so. But follows her far off, ne ought he fears To be partaker of her wand'ring woe : More mild in beastly kind, than that her beastly foe. CANTO IV. To sinful house of Pride Duess- a guides the faithful knight ; Where, brother's death to wreak, San?joy Doth challenge him to fight. YouiVG knight whatever, that dost arms profess, And through long labours huntest after fame, Beware of fraud, beware of fickleness, In choice, an d c!iange,of thy dear-lov^d dame ; Lest thou of her believe too lightly blame, And rash misweening do thy heart remove : For unto knight there is no greater shame. Than lightness and inconstancy, in love ; That doth this Redcross knight's ensample plainly prove. II. Who, after that he had fair Una lorn, Through light misdeeming of her loyalty, And false Duessa in her stead had borne. Called Fidess', and so supposed to be ; Long with her travell'd ; till at last they see A goodly building, bravely garnished ; The house of mighty prince it seem'd to be ; And towards it a broad high way that led. All bare through people's feet, which thither travelled. III. Great troups of people travell'd thitherward Both day and night, of each degree and place ; But few returned, having scaped hard, With baleful beggary, or foul disgrace ; Which, ever after in most wretched case, c ;to IV.] L e loathsome lazars, by the hedges lay. T ther Duessa bade him bend his pace ; Fc she is weary of the toilsome way ; Ar ^ also nigh consumed is the ling'ring day. IV. A stately palace built of squared brick, Which cunningly was without mortar laid, Whose walls were high, but nothing strong nor thick, And golden foil all over them display'd. That purest sky with brightness they dis- may'd ; High lifted up were many lofty tow'rs, And goodly galleries far over laid, Full of fair \\indows and delightful bow'rs ; And on the top a dial told the timely hours. V. It was a goodly heap for to behold, And spake the praises of the workman's wit ; But full great pity, that so fair a mould Did on so weak foundation ever sit : For on a sandy hill, that still did flit And fall away, it mounted was full high ; That every breath of heaven shaked it ; And all the hinder parts, that few could spy. Were ruinous and old, but painted cunningly. VI. Arrived there, they passed in forth right ; For still to all the gates stood open wide : Yet charge of them was to a porter hight, Call'd Malvemi, who entrance none denied ; Thence to the hall, which was on every side With rich array and costly arras dight ; Infinite sorts of people did abide There, waiting long to win the wished sight Of her, that was the lady of that palace bright. VII. By them they pass, all gazing on them round. And to the presence mount ; whose glorious view Their frail amazed senses did confound. In living prince's court none ever knew Such endless riches, and so sumpteous shew ; Ne Persia' self, the nurse of pompous pride, Like ever saw : and there a noble crew Of lords and ladies stood on ever side, Which, %nth their presence fair, the place much beautified. VIII. High above all a cloth of state was spread, And a rich throne, as bright as sunny day ; On which there sate, most brave embellished With royal robes and gorgeous array, A maiden queen that shone, as Titan's ray, Inglist'ring .gold and peerless precious stone ; Yet her bright blazing beauty did assay To dim the brightness of her glorious throne, As envying herself, that too exceeding shone : IX. Exceeding shone, like Phoebus' fairest child, That did presume his father's fiery wain,"- And flaming mouthsof steeds unwonted wild, Through highest heaven with weaker hand to rein, I Proud of such glory and advancement vain, I While flashing beams do daze his feeble eye, j He leaves the welkin way most beaten plain, ! And, rapt with whirling wheels, inflames the sky [to shine. With fire not made to burn, but fairly for X. I So proud she shined in her princely state, Looking to heaven ; for earth she did disdain : I And sitting high ; for lowly she did hate : I Lo, underneath her scornful feet was lain A dreadful dragon with an hideous train ; ' And in her hand she held a mirror bright, ' Wherein her face she often viewed fain, And inher self-loved semblance took delight ; I Forshe was wondrous fair as any living wight. XI. I Qf grisly Pluto she the daughter was. And sad Proserpina, the queen oFliell ; Yet did she think her peerless worth to pass That parentage, with pride so did she sv.ell ; And thund'ring Jove, that high in heaven doth dwell And wield the world, she claimed for her sire ; Or if that any else did Jove excel ; For to the highest she did still aspire ; Or, if ought higher were than that, did it desire. XII. And proud Lucifera men did her call, i^be ; That made herself a queen, and crown'd to Yet rightful kingdom she had none at all, Xe heritage of native sovereignty ; But did usurp with wrong and tyranny Upon the sceptre, which she now did hold : Xe ruled her realm with laws, but policy, And strong advizement of six wizards old, That with their counsels bad her kingdom did uphold. XIII. Soon as the elfin knight in presence came. And false Duessa, seeming lady fair, A gentle usher, \'anity by name, Made room, and passage for them did pre- pare. So goodly brought them to the lowest stair Of her high throne ; where they, on humble knee Making obeisance, did the cause declare, Why they were come, her royal state to see, Toprovethewidereportof her great majesty. * Phceton is mcaait. i8 [book XIV. With lofty e3'es, half loth to look so low, She thanked them in her disdainful wise ; Ne other grace vouchsafed them to show Of princess worthy; scarce them bade aiise, Her lords and ladies all this while devise Themselves to setten forth to strangers' sight: Some frounce their curled hair in courtly guise ; [dight Some prank their niffs ; and others trimly Their gay attire : each, other's greater pride does spite. XV. Goodly they all that knight do entertain, Right glad with him to have increased their crew ; But to Duess' each one himself did pain All kindness and fair courtesy to shew ; For in that court whylome her well they knew : Yet the stout Fairy mongst the middest crowd Thought all their glory vain in knightly view, And that great princess too exceeding proud, That to strange knight no better counte- nance allow'd. xvr. Sudden upriseth from her stately place The royal dame, and for her coach did call : All hurtlenforth ; andshe,with princelypace, As fair Aurora, in her purple pall. Out of the east the dawning day doth call, So forth she comes ; her brightness broad doth blaze. The heaps of people, thronging in the hall, Do ride each other, upon her to gaze : Her glorious glitterand light doth all men's eyes amaze. XVII. So forth she comes, and to her coach does climb. Adorned all with gold and garlands gay, That seem'd as fresh as Flora in her prime ; And strove to match, in royal rich array. Great Juno's golden chair ; the which, they say, [ride The gods stand gazing on, when she does To Jove's high house through heaven's brass-paved way. Drawn of fair peacocks, that excel in pride, And full of x-Vrgus eyes their tails dispredden wide. XVIII. But this Avas drawn of six unequal beasts, On which her six sage counsellors did ride, Taught to obey their bestial ijchcsts. With like conditions to their kinds applied ; Of which the first, that all the rest did guide. Was sluggish Idleness, tlie nurse of Sin ; Upon a slotliful ass he chose to ride, Array'd in habit black, and amice thin ; ~y. Like to an holy monk, the service to begiaL^ XIX. ' V And in his hand his portesse still he bart e, That much was worn, but therein Uttle reac ; For of devotion he had little care, [dead : Still drown'd in sleep, and most of his days Scarce could he once uphold his heavy head, To looken whether it were night or day. May seem the wain was very evil led. When such an one had guiding of the way, They knew not, whether right he went or else astray. XX. From worldly cares himself he did eslojTie, And greatly shunned manly exercise ; From every work he challenged essoyne, For contemplation' sake : yet otherwise His life he led in lawless riotise ; By which he grew to grievous malady : For in his lustless limbs, through evil guise, A shaking fever reign'd continually : Such one was Idleness, first of this company. XXI. And by his side rode loathsome Gluttony, Deformed creature, on a filthy swine ; His belly was upblown with luxury, And eke with fatness swollen were his eyne ; And like a crane his neck was long and fine, With which he swallow'd up excessive feast. For want whereof poor people oft did pine : And all the way, most like a brutish beast, He spued up his gorge, that all didhim detest. XXII. In green vine leaves he was right fitly clad ; For other clothes he could not wear for heat ; And on his head an ivygarland had, [sweat : From under which fast trickled down the Still as he rode, he somewhat still did eat, And in his hand did bear a bousing can, Of which he supt so oft, that on his seat His drunken corse he scarce upholden can : Jn shape and hfe more like a monster than a man. XXIII. Unfit he was for any worldly thing, And eke unable once to stir or go ; Not meet to be of counsel to a king, [so. Whose mind in meat and drink was drowned That from his friend he seldom knew his foe : Full of diseases was his carcass blue. And a dry dropsy through his flesh did flow, Which by misdiet daily greater grew : [crew. S ucli on e was Gluttony, the second of that XXIV. And next to him rode lustful Ixclicry Upon a bearded goat, whose rugged' hair And whally eyes (tiie sign of jealousy), Was like the person self, \vhom he did bear : CANTO IV.] 19 Who rough, and black, and filthy, did ap- pear ; Unseemly man to please fair ladies' eye : Yet he of ladies oft was loved dear, "When fairer faces were bid standen by : O who does know the bent of women's fantasy ! XXV. In a green gown he clothed was full fair, Which underneath did hide his filthiness ; And in his hand a burning heart he bare, Full of vain follies arid new-fangleness : For hewasfalse, and fraught with fickleness ; And learned had to love with secret looks : And well could dance ; and sing with rue- fulness ; And fortunes tell ; and read in loving books ; And thousand other ways, to bait his fleshly hooks. XXVI. In_£onstant man, that loyed^aH hesaw, ArKTTvrsted'Mferall, that he did love^; Ne would his looser life be tied to law, But joy'd weak women's hearts to tempt, and prove If from their loyal loves he might them move : Which lewdness fill'd him with reproachful Of that foul evil, which all men reprove, [pain That rots the marrow, and consumes the brain : [train. Such one was Lechery, the third of all this ^ XXVII. And greedv Avarice by him did ride. Upon a camel loaden all with gold : Two iron coffers hung' on either side, With precious metal full as they might hold ; And in his lap an heap of coins he told : For of his wicked pelf his god he made. And unto hell himself for money sold ; Accursed usury was all his trade ; [weigh'd. And right and wrong alike in equal balance XXVIII. His life was nigh unto death's door yplaced ; And thread-bare coat, and cobbled shoes, he ware ; Ne scarce good morsel all his life did taste ; But both from back and belly still did spare ; To fill his bags, and riches to compare ; Yet child ne kinsman living had he none To leave them to ; but thorough daily care To get, and nightly fear to lose his own, He led a wretched life, unto himself unknown. XXIX. Most wretched wight, whom nothing might suffice ; Whose greedy lust did lack in greatest store ; Whose need had end, but no end covetise ; Whose wealth was want ; whose plenty made him poor ; Who had enough, yet wished ever more ; A vile disease ; and eke in foot and hand A grievous gout tormented him full sore ; That well he could not touch, nor go, nor stand : [band ! fiuch_oiie.wa.s_ Avarice, the fourth of this fair XXX. And^next to him malicious Envy rode Upon a ravenous wolf, and still did chaw Between his cank'red teeth a venomous toad, That all the poison ran about his chaw ; But inwardly he chawed his own maw At neighbour's wealth, that made him ever sad ; For death it was, when any good he saw ; And wept, that cause of weeping none he had ; [drous glad. But, when he heard of harm, he waxed won- XXXI. All in a kirtle of discolour'd say He clothed was, ypainted full of e3-es ; And in his bosom secretly there lay An hateful snake, the which his tail upties In many folds, and mortal sting implyes : Stjll as he rode, he gnash'd his teeth to see Those heaps of gold with griple Covetise, And grudged at the great felicity Of proud Lucifera, and his own company. XXXII. He hated all good works and virtuous deeds. And him no less, that any like did use ; And, who with gracious bread the hungry feeds, His alms for want of faith he doth accuse : So every good to bad he doth abuse : And eke the verse of famous poets' wit He^does backbite^ and spiteful poison spues From leprous mouth on all that ever writ : Sueli-Gfte vile Envy was, that fifth in row did sit. XXXIII. And himbeside ridesfierce revengiiig Wrath, Upon a lion, loth for to be led ; And in his hand a burning brand he hath , The which he brandisheth about his head : His eyes did hurl forth sparkles fiery red, And stared stern on all that bim beheld ; As ashes pale of hue, and seeming dead ; And on his dagger still his hand he held. Trembling through hasty rage, when choler in him swell'd. XXXIV. His ruffian raiment all was stain'dwith blood Wliich he had spilt, and all to rags yrent ; Th.rough unadvised rashness waxen wood ; For of his hands he had no government, Xe cared for blood in his avengiinient : But, when the furious fit was overpast, Hi's cruel iacts he often would repent ; C 2 20 [book I. Yet wilful man, he never would forecast, How man}' mischiefs should ensue his heed- less haste. XXXV. Full many mischiefs follow cruel Wrath ; Abhorred Bloodshed, and tumultuous Strife, Unmanly ^lurder, and unthrifty Scath, Bitter Despite with Rancour's rusty knife ; And fretting Grief, the enemy of life : All these, and many evils moe haunt Ire, The swelling Spleen, and Frenzy raging rife, The shaking Palsy, and St. Francis' fire : Such one was Wrath, the last of this un- godly tire. xxxvr. And, after all, upon the \\aggon beam, Rode Satan with a smarting whip in hand, With which he forward lash'd the lazy team. So oft as Sloth still in the mire did stand. Huge routs of people did about them band. Shouting for joy ; and still before their way A foggy mist had cover' d all the land ; And, underneath their feet, all scatter'd lay Dead skulls and bones of men whose life had gone astray. xxxvii. So forth they marchen in this goodly sort, To take the solace of the open air, [sport : And in fresh fiow'ring fields themselves to Amongst the rest rode that false lady fair. The foul Duessa, next unto the chair Of proud Lucifer', as one of the train : But that good knight would not so nigh repair, Himself estranging from their joyaunce vain. Whose fellowship seem'd far unfit for war- like swain. xxxviii. So, having solaced themselves a space W'ith pleasaunce of the breathing fields yfed, They back returned to the princely place ; Whereas an errant knight in arms ycled, Andheath'nish shield, wherein with letters red Was writ Sans joy, they new arrived find : Enflamed, with fury and fierce hardyhed. He seem'd in heart to harbour thoughts unkind, [mind. And nourish bloody vengeance in his bitter XXXIX. Who, when the shamed shield of slain Sansfoy [pfige. He spied with that same Fairy champion's Bewraying him that did of late destroy His eldest brother ; burning all with rage. He to him leapt, and that same envious gage Of victor's glory from him snatch'd away : But th" Elfin knight, which ought that war- like wage, Disdain'd to lose the meed he won in fray; And, him rencount'ring fierce, rescued the noble prey. XL. Therewith they gan to hurtlen greedily, Redoubted battle ready to darrayne, And clash their shields, and shake their swords on high ; [train : That with their stir they troubled all the Till that great queen, upon eternal pain Of high displeasure that ensew'en might. Commanded them their fury to refrain ; And, if that either to that shield had right. In equal lists they should the morrow next it fight. XLI. . ' ' Ah , dearest dame, " quoth then the Pavnlm i bold, ' / " Pardon the error of enraged wight, [hold // Whom great grief made forget the reins to / / Of reason's rule, to see this recreant knight, (No knight, but treachour full of false despite And shameful treason,) who through guile hath slain The prowest knight that ever field did fight, Even stout Sansfoy, (O, who can refrain !) Wliose shield he bears renverst, the more to heap disdain. XLII. "And, to augment the glory of his guile. His dearest love, the fair Fidessa, lo ! Is there possessed of the traitor vile ; Who reaps the harvest sowen by his foe, Sowen in bloody field, and bought with woe : That brother's hand shall dearly well re- quite So be, O Queen, you equal favour show." Him little answer'dJLhliingry Elfin knight ; He never meant with wofas, but swords, to plead his right : XLIII. But threw his gauntlet, as a sacred pledge, His cause in combat the next day to try : So been they parted both , with hearts on edge To be avenged each on his enemy. That night they pass in joy and jollity. Feasting and courting bothin bow'rand hall ; For steward was excessive Gluttony, That of his plenty poured forth to all : Wliich done, the chamberlain Sloth did to rest them call. XLIV. Now whenas darksome night had all dis- play' d Her coalblack curtain over brightest sky ; The warlike youths, on dainty couches laid, Did cliase away sweet sleep from sluggish eye, To muse on means of hoped victory. But whenas Morpheus had \\\\h leaden mace An-ested all that courtly company. Uprose Duessa from her resting place, T^id to the Pa>Tiim's lodging comes with silent pace : CANTO IV.] 21 XLV. Whom broad awake she finds, in troublous fit, Fore-casting, how his foe he might annoy ; And him amoves with speeclies seeming fit : "Ah, dear Sansjoy, next deai-est to Sansfoy, Cause of my new grief, cause of my new jo>' ; Joyous, to see his image in mine eye. And grieved to thinlc how foe did him destroy, That was tlie flow'r of grace and chivalry ; Lo, his Fidessa, to thy secret faith I fly." XLvr, With gentle words he can her fairly greet, And bade say on the secret of her heart : Then, sighing soft ; " I learn that little sweet Oft temp'red is," quoth she, "with muchel smart : [dart For, since my breast was lanced with lovely Of dear Sansfoy I never joyed hour, But in eternal woes my weaker heart, Have wasted, loving him with all my pow'r, And for his sake have felt full many an heavy stowre. XLVII. " At last, when perils all I weened past. And hoped to reap the crop of all my care. Into new woes unweeting I ^\as cast By this false faytor, who unworthy ware His worthy shield, whom he with guileful snare [grave : Entrapped slew, and brought to shameful Me silly maid away with him he bare, And ever since hath kept in darksome cave ; For that I would not yield that to Sansfoy I gave. XLViii. [cloud, " But since fair sun hath sperst that lov/'ring And to my loathed life now shows some light, Under your beams I will me safely shroud From dreaded storm of his disdainful spite: To you th' inheritance belongs by right Of brother's praise, to you eke longs his love, Let not his love, let not his restless spright, Be unrevcnged, that calls to you above From wandering Stygian shores, where it doth endless move." XLIX. Thereto said he, "Fair dame, be nought dismay' d [gone. For sorrows past ; their grief is with them Nc yet of present peril be afraid ; For needless fear did never vantage none ; And helpless hap it booteth not to moan. Dead is Sansfoy, his vital pains are past. Though grieved ghost for vengeance deep do groan He lives, that shall him pay his duties last, And guilty Elfin blood shall sacrifice in haste. L. " O, but 1 fear the fickle freaks," quoth she, ' ' Of Fortune false, and odds of arms in field. " "Why, dame," quoth he, "what odds can ever be Wliere both do fight alike, to win or yield ?" ' ' Yea, but, " quoth she, ' ' he bears a charmed shield, [pierce ; And eke enchanted arms, that none can Ne none can wound the man, that does them wield." [then fierce, " Charm'd or enchanted," answer'd he "I no whit reck ; ne you the like need to rehearse. LI. " But, fair Fidessa, sithens Fortune's guile. Or enemies' pow'r, hath now captived you. Return from whence ye came, and rest a while. Till morrow next, that I the Elf subdue, And with Sansfoy's dead dowry you endue. " "Ay me, that is a double death," she said, ' ' With proud foe's sight my sorrow to renew : Wherever yet I be, my secret aid Shall follow you." So, passing forth, she him obey'do CANTO V. The faithful knight in equal field Subdues his faithless foe ; Whom false Duessa saves, and for His cure to hell does go. The noble heart that harbours virtuous thought, And is with child of glorious great intent. Can never rest, until it forth have brought Th' eternal brood of glory excellent. Such restless passion did all night torment The flaming courage of that Faery knight, Devising, how that doughty tournament With greatest honour he achieven might : Still did he wake, and still did watch for dawning light. II. At last, the golden oriental gate Of greatest heaven gan to open foir, [mate. And Phccbus, fresh as bridegroom to his Came dancing forth, shaking his dewy hair ; And hurl'd his glist'ring beams through gloomy air; [straightway Which when the wakeful Elf perceived, 22 [book I. He started up, and did himself prepare In sunbright arms, and battailous array ; For with that Pagan proud he combat w ill that dav. III. And forth he comes into the common hall ; Where early wait him many a gazing eye, To weet what end to stranger knights may fall. There many minstrels maken melody, To drive away the dull meldncholy ; And many bards, that to the trembling chord Can tune' their timely voices cunningly ; And many chroniclers, that can record Old loves, and wars for ladies done by many a lord. IV. Soon after comes the cruel Saracen, In woven mail all armed warily ; And sternly looks at him, who not a pin Does care for look of living creature's eye. They bring them wines of Greece and Araby, And dainty spices fetch from furthest Ind, To kindle heat of courage privily ; And in the wine a solemn oath they bind T' observe the sacred laws of arms that are assign' d. V. At last forth comes that far renowned queen ; With royal pomp and princely majesty She is ybrought unto a paled green. And placed under stately canopy, [see. The warlike feats of both those knights to On th" other side in all men's open view Duessa placed is, and on a tree Sansfoy his shield* is hang'd with bloody hue : Both those, the laurel garlands to the victor due. VI. A shrilling trumpet sounded from on high. And unto battle bade themselves address : Their shining shields about their wrists they tie, [bless. And burning blades about their heads do The instruments of \\Tath and hea\iness : With greedy force each other doth assail. And strike so fiercely that they do impress Deep dinted furrows in the batter'd mail : The iron walls to ward their blows are weak and frail. VII. The Saracen was stout and wondrous strong. And heaped blows like iron hammers great : For after blood and vengeance he did long. The knight was fierce and full of youthly heat, [threat : And doubled strokes like dreaded thunders" For all for praise and honour did he fight. Sansfoy's shield— the old possessive case is used; Both , stricken, strike, and beaten both do beat ; That from their shields forth flieth fiery light, And helmets hewen deep, show marks of cither's might. VIII. Soth'oneforwrong, theotherstrivesforright: As when agryfon, seized of his prey, A dragon fierce encount'reth in his flight, Through widest air making his idle way. That would his rightful ravine rend away : With hideous horror both together smite. And souce so sore, that they the heavens affray : The wise soothsayer, seeing so sad sight, Th' amazed vulgar tells of wars and mortal fight. IX. So th' one for wTong, the other strives for right ; [foe : And each to deadly shame would drive his The cruel steel so greedily doth bite In tender flesh, that streams of blood down flow ; [show, With which the arms that erst so bright did Into a pure vermilion now are d3'ed. Great ruth in all the gazers' hearts did grow, Seeing the gored wounds to gape so wide. That victory they dare not \vish to either side. X. At last the Paynim chanced to cast his eye, riiB~sucrden eye, flaming with wrathful fire. Upon his brother's shield, which hung thereby : Therewith redoubled was his raging ire, And said : Ah ! -wretched son of woful sire, Dost thou sit wailing by black Stygian lake, Whilest here thy shield is hang'd for \icior's hire ? And, sluggish german, - dost thyforces slake, To after-send hisfoe, that him may overtake? XI. ' ' Go ^ capjj ve Elf, him quickly overtake, Arrdsoon redeem from hislong-wand'ring wo : Go, guilty ghost, to him my message make. That I his shield have quit from dying foe." Therewith upon his crest he struck him so. That twice he reeled, ready twice to fall : End of the doubtful battle deemed tho The lookers on ; and loud to him gan call The false Duessa, ' ' Thine the shield, and 'I, and all !" XII. SoQft as the Fairy heard his iady speak. Out of his swooning dream he gan av.'ake ; And quick'ning faith, that erst was waxen \veak, The creeping deadly cold away did shake ; * Upton says it should be "Sluggish german, do thy forces slake." — German means brother. CANTO v.] 23 Tho jnoved with wrath, and shamCj and lady's sake, Of all at once he cast avenged to be, And with so' exceeding' fury at him strake, ThaTfbfcedTirm to stoop upon his knee : Had he not stooped so, he should have cloven be. XI I r. And to him said ; ' ' Go now, proud miscreant, Thyself thy message do to german dear : Alone he, wand'ring, thee too long doth want : Go, say his foe thy shield with his doth bear." Therewith his heavy hand he high gan rear, Him to have slain ; when lo ! a darksome cloud Upon him fell ; he no where doth appear. But vanish'd is. The Elf him calls aloud. But answer none receives ; the darkness him does shroud. XIV. tn haste Duessa from her place arose, (And to him running said ; "Oprowest knight. That ever lady to her love did chose. Let now abate the terror of your might. And quench the flame of furious despite And bloody vengeance : lo ! th' infernal pow'rs. Covering your foe with cloud of deadly night, Have borne him hence to Pluto's baleful bow'; ." : 'and glory yours ! " The conquest yours ; I yours ; the shield XV. Not all so satisfied, with greedy eye He sought, all round about, his thirsty blade To bathe in blood' of faithless enemy ; Who all that while lay hid in secret shade : He stands amazed how he thence should fade. At last the trumpets triumph sound on high And running heralds humble homage made, Greeting him goodly with new victory ; And to him brought the shield, the cause of enmity. XVI. Wherewith hegoeth to that sovereign queen ; And, faUing her before on lowly knee. To her makes present of his service seen ; Which .'=he accepts with thanks and goodly Greatly advancing his gay chivalr\- : [gree. So marcheth home, and by her takes the knight. Whom all the people follow with great glee, Shouting, and clapping all their hands on height, [bright. That all the air it fills and flies to heaven XVI r. Home is he brought, and laid in sumptuous bed : WTiere many skilful leeches him abide To salve his hurts, that yet still freshly bled. In wine and oil they wash his woundes wide, And softly gan embalm on every side. And all the while most heavenly melody About the bed sweet music did' divide. Him to beguile of grief and agony : And all the while Duessa wept full bitterly. XVI I r. As when a weary traveller, that strays By muddy shore of broad seven-mouthed Nile, Unweeting of the perilous wand'ring wavs, Doth meet a cruel crafty crocodile, [guile, Which, in false grief, 'hiding his harmful Doth weep full sore and shcdde th tender tears ; The foolish man, that pities all this while His mournful plight, is swallow'd up un- ^vares ; [cares. Forgetful of his own that minds another's XIX. So wept Duessa until eventide, [light : That shining lamps injove's high house were Then forth she rose, ne longer would abide ; But comes unto the place where th' hea- then knight, [spright. In slumbering swoon nigh void of vital Lay cover'd v. ith enchanted cloud all day : Whom when she found, as she him left' in plight. To wail his woful case she would not stav. But to the eastern coast of heaven makes speedy ^\•ay. XX. Where griesly Xight, with visage deadly sad, That Phoebus' cheerful face durst never viev/, And in a foul black pitchy mantle clad. She finds forthcoming from her darksome mew ; \\liere she all day did hide her hated hue. Before the door her iron charet stood. Already harnessed for journey new. And coal-black steeds yborn of hellish brood. That on their rusty bits did champ, as they were wood. XXI. \Mio when she saw Duessa, sunny bright, Adorn'd with gold and jewels shining clear. She greatly grew amazed at the sight. And th' unacquainted light began to fear ; (For never did such brightness there appear ;) And would have back retired to her cave. Until the ^\itch's speech she gan to hear. Saying ; "Yet Othou dreaded dame, I crave Abide, till I have told the message which I have." XXII. She stay'd ; and forth Duessa gan proceed ; " O thou, most ancient grandmother of all. More old than Jove, whom thou at first didst breed. Or that great house of gods celestial ; 24 [book I. Which wast begot in Dcemogorgon's hall, And sawst the secrets of the world unmade ; W'hysiifferedst thou thy nephews dear to fall With Elfin sword most shamefully betray'd ? Lo, where the stout Sansjoy doth sleep in deadly shade! XXIII. " And, him before, I saw with bitter eyes The bold Sansfoy shrink underneath his spear ; And now the prey of fowls in field he lies, Xor wail'd of friends, nor laid on groaning bier. That whylome was to me too dearly dear. O ! what of gods then boots it to be born, If old Aveugle's sons so evil hear? Or^vvTio "shall not great Nightes children scorn, [forlorn? When two of three her nephews are so foul XXIV. "Up, then ; lip, dreary dame, of darkness queen ; Go, gather ixp the relics of thy race ; Or else go, them avenge ; and let be seen That dreaded Night in brightest day hath place. And can the children of fair Light deface." Her feeling speeches some compassion moved In heart, and change in that great mother's face : Yet pity in her heart was never proved Till then ; for evermore she hated, never loved : XXV. And said, " Dear daughter, richly may I rue The fall of famous children born of me. And good successes, which their foes ensue : But who can turn the stream of destiny. Or break the chain of strong Necessity, Whicli fast is tied to Jove's eternal seat? The sons of Day he favoureth, I see. And by my ruins thinks to make them great: Tq _naake one great by other's loss is bad excheat. * XXVI. " Yet shall they not escape so freely all ; For some shall pay the price of other's guilt : And he, the man that made Sansfoy to fall, Shall with his own blood price f that he has spilt. [kilt?" But what art thou, that tell'st of nephews " I, that do seem not I, Duessa am," Quoth she, "however now, in garments gilt And gorgeous gold aiTay'd I to thee came ; Duessa I , the daughter of Deceit and Shame. " XXVII. Then, bowing down her aged back, she kiss'd The wicked witch, saying, "In that fair face "* A property that falls to any one by forfeiture; here, bid inheritance. t Pay the price of. The false resemblance of Deceit, I wist, Did closely lurk ; yet so true-seeming grace It carried, that I scarce in darksome place Could it discern ; though I the mother be Of Falsehood, and root of Duessa's race. O welcome, child, whom I had long'd to see, And now have seen unwares ! Lo, now I go v.ith thee." XXVIII. Then to her iron v^aggon she betakes. And witli her bears the foul wellfavour'd witch : [makes. Through mirksome air her ready way she H er twyfold team (of which two black as pitch , And two were brown, yet each to each unhke) Did softly swim away, ne ever stamp Unless she chanced their stubborn mouths to twitch ; [champ. Then, foaming tar, their bridles they would And trampling the fine element would fiercely ramp. XXIX. So well they sped, that they become atlength Unto the place, whereas the Paynim lay Devoid of outward sense and native strength, Cover'd with charmed cloud from view of day And sight of men, since his late luckless fray. His cruel wounds with cruddy blood con- geal'd They binden up so wisely as they may, And handle softly, till they can be heal'd So lay him in her charet, close in night conceal'd. XXX. And all the while she stood upon the ground. The wakeful dogs did never cease to bay ; As giving warning of th' unwonted sound. With which her iron wheels did them affray, And her dark griesly look them much dismay. The messenger of death, the ghastly owl. With dreary shrieks did also her bewray ; And hungry wolves continually did howl At her abhorred face, so filthy and so foul. XXXI. Thence turning back in silence soft they stole, And brought the hea\y corse \\ith easy pace To yawning gulf of deep Avernus' hole: By that same hole an entrance, dark and base, W^ith smoke and sulphur hiding all the place, Descends to hell : there creature never past. That back returned without heavenly grace ; But dreadful Furies, which their chains have brast, [men aghast. And damned sprights sent forth to make ill XXXII. By that same way the direful dames do drive Their mournful charet fiU'd with rusty blood, And down to Pluto's house are come bilive : Whicli passing through, on eveiy side them stood CANTO v.] 25 The trembling ghosts with sad amazed mood, Chatt'ring their iron teeth, and staring wide With stony eyes ; and all the hellish brood Of fiends infernal flock' d on every side. To gaze on earthly wight, that with the Xight durst ride. XXXIII, They.f)a:ss-the hitter waves of Acheron, Where many souls sit wailing wofully ; And come to fiery flood of Phlegethon, Whereas the damned ghosts in torments fry. And with sharp shrilling shrieks do bootless cry, Cursing high Jove, the which them thither sent The house of endless Pain is built thereby. In which ten thousand sorts of punishment The cursed creatures do eternally torment. XXXIV. Before the threshold dreadful Cerberus His three deformed heads did lay along. Curled with thousand adders venomous And lilled forth his bloody flaming tongue : At them he gan to rear his bristles strong, And felly gnarre, until Day's enemy Did him appease; then down his tail he hung, And suffer'd them to passen quietly : For she in hell and heaven had power equally. XXXV. There was Ixion turned on a wheel, For daring tempt the queen of heaven to sin ; And Sisyphus an huge round stone did reel Against an hill, ne might from labour lin ; There thirsty Tantalus hung by the chin ; And Tityus fed a ^'ulture on his maw ; Typhoeus' joints were stretched on a gin ; Theseus condemned to endless sloth by law ; And fifty sisters water in leak vessels draw. XXXVI. They, all beholding worldly wights in place, Leave off theirw'ork, unmindful of their smart. To gaze on them ; who forth by them do pace. Till they be come unto the furthest part ; Where wasacaveywTOught by wondrousart. Deep, dark, uneasy, doleful, comfortless, In w'hich sad Escuiapius far apart Emprison'd was in chains remediless ; For that Hippoly tus' rent corse h e did redress . XXXVII. Hippolytus a jolly huntsman was, TMruont in charet chase the foaming boar : He all his peers in beauty did surpass. But ladies' love, as loss of time, forbore : His wanton stepdame loved him the more ; But, when she saw her ofter'd sweets refused, Her love she turn'd to hate, and him before. His father fierce of treason accused. And with her jealous terms his open ears abused ; XXXVIII. ^^'ho, all in rage, his sea-god sire besought Some cursed vengeance on his son to cast : From surging gulf two monsters straight were brought With dread whereof his chasing steeds aghast Both charet swift and huntsman overcast. His goodly corpse on ragged cliffs yrent, Was quite dismemb'red, and his members chaste Scatt'red on every mountain as he went, That of Hippolytus was left no moniment. XXXIX. His cruel stepdame, seeing what was done, Her wicked days with wretched knife did end, In death avowing th' innocence of her son. Which hearing, his rash sire began to rend His hair, and hasty tongue that did offend : Tho, gathering up the reliquesof his smart. By Diane's meanswhowasHippolyt'sfriend, Them brought to Esculape, that by his art Did heal them all again, and joined every part. XL. Such wondrous science in man's wit to reig^ \\'henJove avized, that could the dead revive, And fates expired could renew" again. Of endless life he might him not deprive ; But unto hell did thrust him down alive, With flashing thunderbolt ywounded sore ; Where, long remaining, he did always strive Himself with salves to health for to restore. And slake the heavenly fire that raged ever- more. XLI. There ancient Xight arriving, did alight From her nigh-weary wain, and in her arms To Escuiapius brought the wounded knight; Whom having softly disarrayd of arms, Tho gan to him discover all his harms, Beseeching him with prayer, and with praise. If either salves, or oils, or herbs, or charms, A fordonne wight from door of death mote raise, [nephew's days. He would at her request prolong her XLII. "Ah dame," quoth he, " thou temptest me in vain To dare the thing, which daily yet I rue ; And the old cause of my continued pain With like attempt to like end to renew. Is not enough, that, thrust from heaven due. Here endless penance for one fault I pay ; But that redoubled crime with vengeance new Thou biddest me to eke : can Xight defray The wrath of thundering Jove, that rules both Xight and Day ? " 26 [book I. XLIII. " Xot SO," quoth she; "but, sith that heaven's king [quite, From hope of heaven liath thee excluded Why fearest tliou, that canst not hope for thing ; Andfearestnot, that more thee hurten might. Now in the pow'r of everlasting Night ? Go to then, O thou far renowned son Of great Apollo, shew thy famous might In medicine, that else hath to thee v.on Great pains, and greater praise, both never to be done." XLIV. Her words prevail'd ; and then the learned leech His cunning hand gan to his wounds to lay, And all things else the which his art did teach ; Which having seen, from thence arose away The mother of dread Darkness, and let stay Aveugles' son there in the leech's cure ; And back returning, took her wonted way To run her timely race, whilst Phoebus pure In western v/aves his weary waggon did recure. XLV. The^aJse Duessa, leaving noyous Night, Retiurn'd to stately palace of Dame Pride ; \Miere when she came she found the Faery knight Departed thence ; albee (his woundes wide Not throughly heal'd) unready were to ride. Good cause he had to hasten thus away ; For on a day his wary dwarf had spied Where in a dungeon deep, huge numbers lay Of captive wretched thralls, that wailed night and day ; XLV I. (A rueful sight as could be seen with eye ;) Of whom he learned had in secret wise The hidden cause of their captivity ; How mortgaging their lives to Covetise, Through wasteful pride and wanton riotise, They were by law of that proud tyranness. Provoked with Wrath and Envy's false surmise. Condemned to that dungeon merciless. Where they should live in woe, and die in wTetchedness. XLVII. There was that great proud king of Babylon, That would compel all nations to adore And him, as only God, to call upon ; [door, Till, through celestial doom, thrown out of Into an ox he was transform'd of yore. There also was King Croesus, that enhaunst His heart too high through his great riches' store ; And proud Antiochus, the which advaunst His cursed hand gainst God, and on his altars daunst. XLVIII. And, them long time before, great Nimrod was, [warray'd ; That first the world with sword and fire And after him old Ninus far' did pass In princely pomp, of all the world obey'd. There also was that mighty monarch laid Low under all, yet above all in pride. That name of native sire did foul upbraid. And would as Amnion's son be magnified, Till, scorn'd of God and man, a shameful death he died. XLIX. All these together in one heap were thrown, Like carcasses of beasts in butcher's stall. And, in another corner, wide were strown The antique ruins of the Romans' fall : Great Romulus, the grandsire of them all ; Proud Tarquin ; and too lordly Lentulus ; Stout Scipio ; and stubborn Hannibal ; Ambitious Sylla ; and stern Marius ; High Ccesar ; great Pompey ; and fierce Antonius. L. Amongst these mighty menwere women mix'd Proud women, vain, forgetful of their yoke : The bold Semiramis, whose sides transfix d With son's own blade her foul reproaches spoke : Fair Sthenoboea, that herself did choke With wilful chord, for wanting of her will ; High-minded Cleopatra, that with stroke Of aspes sting herself did stoutly kill : And thousands moe the like, that did that dungeon fill. LI. Besides the endless routs of wretched thralls, W^hich thither were assembled, day by day. From all the world, after their woful falls Through wicked pride and wasted wealth's deca\'. But most, of all which, in that dungeon lay, Fell from high princes' courts, or ladies' bow'rs ; Where they in idle pomp, or wanton play^ Consumetl had their goods and thriftless ~^" hours, [heavy stowres. And lastly throv.n themselves into these LH. Whose case \\henas the careful dwarf had told. And made ensample of tlieir mournful sight Unto his master ; he ne longer would There dwell in peril of like painful pliglit, But early rose ; and, ere that dawning light Discover'd had the world to heaven wide, He by a privy postern took his flight. That of no envious eyes he mote be spied : For, doubtless, death ensued if any him descried. CANTO VI.] 27 LIII. Scarce could he footing find in that foul \va)', For many corses, liice a great lay-stall Of murder'd men, which therein strowed lay Without remorse or decent funeral ; Which, all through that great Princess Pride did fall, And came to shameful end : and them be- side, Forth riding underneath the castle wall, A dunghill of dead carcasses he spied ; The iireadful spectacle of t hn , t. gp4 Hoi^ge of Pride. / CANTO VI. From lawless lust by wondrous grace Fair Una is released, \\'hoin savage nation does adore, And learns her wise behest. As when a ship, that flies fair under sail, An Bidden rock escaped hath uuwares, That lay in wait her wreck for to bewail ; The mariner yet half amazed stares At peril past, and yet in doubt ne dares To joy at his foolhappy oversight : > So doubly is distrest twixt joy and cares The drea'dless courage of this Elfin knight, ! Having escaped so sad ensamples in his sight. | i II. I Yet sad he was, that his too hasty speed The fair Duess' had forced him leave behind ; And yet more sad, tliat._Una, his dear dread, Her truth had stain'cl with treason so unkind ; Yet crime in her could never creature find : But for his love, and for her own self sake. She wand'red had from one to other Ind, Him for to seek, ne never would forsake : Till her unwares the fierce Sansloy did overtake : III, Who, after Archimago's foul defeat, Led her away into a forest wild ; AQ.d tiu"mng wrathful fire to lustful heat. With beastly sin thought her to have defiled. And made the vassal of his pleasures vilde. Yet first he cast by treaty, and by traynes, Her to persuade that stubborn fort to yield ; For greater conquest of hard love he gains. That works it to his will, than he that it con- strains. IV. With fawning words he courted her awhile ; And, looking lovely and oft sighing sore, Her constant heart did tempt with diverse guile : But words, and looks, and sighs she did abhor ; As rock of diamond stedfast evermore. Yet, for to feed his fiery lustful c\e. He "snatch'd the veil that hung her face be- fore : Then ganher beauty shine as brightest sky, And burnt his beastly heart t' enforce her chastity. V. So when he saw his flatt'ring art? to fail, And subtle engines beat from battery ; With greedy force he gan the fort assail. Whereof he ween'd possessed soon to be And win rich spoil of ransack'd chastity. Ah heavens ! that do this hideous act behold. And heavenly virgin thus outraged see. How can ye vengeance just so long withhold, And hurl not flashing flames upon that Pay- nim bold ? VI. The piteous maiden, careful, comfortless, ^ Does throw out thrilling shrieks, and shriek- ^ ing cries, [tress,) I (The last vain help of women's great dis- And with loud plaints importuneth the skies ; \ That molten stars do drop like weeping eyes ; jVnd Phoebus, flying so most shameful sight, His blushing face in foggy cloud implyes, And hides for shame. \Vhat wit of mortal wight [plight ? Can now devise to quit a thrall from such a VII. Eternal Providence, exceeding thought. Where none appears can make herself a way! A wondrous way it for this lady wrought, From lion's claws to pluck tlie griped prey. Her shrill outcries and shrieks so loud did bray, That all the woods and forests did resound : A troup of fauns and satyrs far away Within the wood were dancing in a round, Whiles old Sylvanus slept, in shady arbour, sound : VIII. Who, ^^•hen they heard that piteous strained In hasteforsook their rural merriment, [voice, Anci ran towards the far rebounded noise. To weet what wiglit so loudly did lament. Unto the place they come incontinent ; Whom when the raging Saracen espied, A rude, mishapen, monstrous rablement, W^hose like he never saw, he durst not bide ; But got his ready steed, and fast away gan 1 ride. 28 [book I. IX. The wild wood-gods, arrived in the place, There find the virgin, doleful, desolate, With ruffled raiments, and fair blubber'd As her outrageous foe had left her late ; [face, And trembling yet through fear of former All stand amazed at so uncouth sight, [hate : And gin to pity her unhappy state ; AH stand astonied at her beauty bright, In their rude eyes unworthy of so woful plight. X. She, more amazed, in double dread doth dwell. And every tender part for fear does shake : As when a greedy wolf, through hunger fell, A seely lamb far from the flock does take. Of whom he means his bloody feast to make, A lion spies fast running towards him. The innocent prey in haste he does forsake ; Which, quit from death, yet quakes in every limb [g^ini. With change of fear, to see the lion look so XI. Such fearful fit assaid her trembling heart ; Ne word to speak, ne joint to move, she had : The savage nation feel her secret smart. And read her sorrow in her count'nance sad ; Their frowning foreheads, with rough horns And rustic horror, all aside do lay ; [yclad And, gently grinning, show a semblance glad To comfort her ; and, fear to put away, Their backward-bent knees teach herhumbly to obey. XII. The doubtful damsel dare not yet commit Her single person to their barbarous truth ; But still twixt fear and hope amazed does sit. Late learn'd \\hat harm to hasty trust ensu'th : They, in compassion of her _teHxLer youth, And wonder of her beauty sovereign, Are won with pity and unwonted ruth ; And, all prostrate upon the lowly plain, Do kiss her feet, and fawn on her with coun- t'nance fain. XIII. Their hearts she .guesseth by their humble And yields her to extremity of time : [guise, So from the ground she fearless doth arise. And walketh forth without suspect of crime : They, all as glad as birds of joyous prime, Thence led her forth, about her dancing round, [rhyme ; Shouting, and singing all a shepherd's And with green branches strowing all the ground, [crown' d. Do worship her as queen with olive garland XIV. And all the way their merry pipes they sound. That all the woods with double echo ring ; And with their horned feet do wear the ground, Leaping like wanton kids in pleasant spring. So towards old Sylvanus they her bring ; Who, with the noise awaked, cometh out To weet the cause, his weak steps governing -\nd aged limbs on cypress stadle stout ; And with an ivy twine his waist is girt about. XV. Far off, he wonders what them makes so glad, Or Bacchus merry fruit they did invent, Or Cybele's frantic rites have made them mad : They, drawing nigh, unto their god present That flow'r of faith and beauty excellent : The god himself viewing that mirror rare. Stood long amazed, and burnt in his intent : His own fair Dryope now he thinks not fair, And Pholoe foul, when her to this he doth compare. XVI. The wood-born people fall before her flat. And worship her as goddess of the wood ; -\nd old Sylvanus self bethinks not, what To think of wight so fair ; but gazing stood In doubt to deem her born of earthly brood : .Sometimes dame Venus self he seems to see ; But Venus never had so sober mood : Sometimes Diana he her takes to be ; But misseth bow and shafts, and buskins to her knee. XVII. By view of her he ginneth to revive His ancient love, and dearest Cyparisse ; And calls to mind his portraiture alive. How fair he was, and yet not fair to this ; And how he slew with glancing dart amiss A gentle hind, the which the lovely boy Did love as hfe, above all worldly bliss : For grief whereof the lad n'ould after joy ; But pined away in anguish and self-will'd annoy. XVIII. The woody nymphs, fair Hamadryades, Her to behold do thither run apace ; And all the troup of light-foot Xaiades Flock all about to see her lovely face : [grace. But, when they viewed have her heavenly They env}^ her in their maUcious mind. And fly away for fear of foul disgrace : But all the .Satyrs scorn their v.oody kind, And henceforth nothing fair, but her, on earth they find. XIX. Glad of such luck, the luckless lucky maid Did her content to please their feeble eyes ; And long time with that savage people stay'd, To gather breath in many miseries : During which time her gentle wit she plies, To teacli them truth, which worship'd her in And made her th' image of idolatries : [vain, CANTO VI.] But, Avhen their bootless zeal she did re- strain [worship fain. From her own worship, they her ass would XX. It fortuned, a noble warlike knight B}' just occasion to that forest came To seek his kindred, and the lineage right From whence he took his well-deserved name : He had in arms abroad won muchel fame, And fill'd far lands with glory of his might ; Plain, faithful, true, and enemy of shame. And ever loved to fight for ladies' right : But in vainglorious frays he little did delight. XXI. A satyr's son yborn in forest wild. By strange adventure as it did betide, And there begotten of a lady mild. Fair Thyamis, the daughter of Labryde ; That was in sacred bands of wedlock tied To Therion, a loose, unruly swain. Who had more joy to range the forest wide. And chase the sa\age beast with busy pain. Than serve his lady's love, and waste in pleasures vain. xxir. The forlornmaiddidAvith love's longmg burn, And could not lack her lover's company ; But to the wood she goes, to serve her turn. And seek her spouse, that from her still does And follows other game and venery ; [fly A satyr chanced her wand'ring for to find : And kindling coals of lust in brutish eye, The loyal links of wedlock did unbind. And made her person thrall unto his beastly kind. XXIII. So long in secret cabin there he_held Her captive to his sensual desire ; 'Tiiljhat with timely fruit her belly swell'd, •An4 bore a boy unto that savage sire : Then home he suffer'd her for to retire ; For ransom leaving him the late-born child : Whom, till to riper years he gan aspire. He nousled up in life and manners wild, Amongst wild beasts and woods, from law s of men exiled. XXIV. ForjiU he taiigJiLtlae tender imp, was but To banish cowardice and bastarj fear : His trembling hand he would him forceto put Upon the lion and the rugged bear ; [tear ; And from the she-bear's teats her whelps to And eke wild roari ng bulls he would him make To tame, and ride their backs not made to bear ; And the roebucks in flight to overtake : That every beast for fear of him did fly and quake. XXV. Thereby so fearless and so fell he grew. That hi.5 own sire and master of his guise Did often tremble at his horrid view ; And oft, for dread of hurt, ^vould him advise The angry beasts not rashly to despise. Nor too much to provoke ; for he would learn The lion stoop to him in lowly wise, (A lesson hard,) and make the libbard stern Lea\e roaring, when in rage he for revenge did earne. XXVI. And for to make his power approved more, Wild beasts in iron yokes he would compel. The spotted panther, and the tusked boar, The pardale swift, and the tigre cruel. The antelope and wolf, both fierce and fell ; And them constrain in equal team to draw. Suchjoyhehad their stubborn hearts to quell, And sturdy courage tame with dreadful awe. That his behest they feared as a tyrant's law. XXVII. His loving mother came upon a day Unto the woods to see her little son ; And chanced unwares to meet him in the way, After his sports and cruel pastime done ; Wlien after him a lioness did run. That roaring all with rage did loud require Her children dear, whom he away had w on : The lion whelps she saw how he did bear. And lull in rugged arms withouten childish fear. XXVIII. The fearful dame all quaked at the sight, And turning back gan fast to fly away ; Until with love revoked from vain affright, She hardly yet persuaded was to stay. And then to him these womanish words gan say : " Ah, Satyrane, my darling and my joy. For love of me leave off this dreadful play \ To dally thus with death is no fit toy : % Go, find some other playfellows, mine owa sweet boy." XXIX. In these and like delights of bloody game He trained was, till riper years he raught. And there abode, whilst any beast of name Walk' d in that forest, whom he had not tauglit To fear his force : and then his courage haught Desired of foreign focmen to be known, And far abroad for strange adventures sought ; In which his miglit was never overthrown ; But through alt- Faei-y- laud his famous worth was blown. XXX. Yet evermore it w'as his manner fair, After long labours and adventures spent, \ icu those native woods for to repair, I'o see his sire and offspring ancient. And now he thitlier came for lilce intent ; Where he unwares the fairest Una found, Strange lady, in so strange habiliment, Teaching the Satyrs, which her sat around, True sacred lore, which from her sweet lips did redound. XXXI. He wonder'd at her wisdom heavenly rare. Whose like in woman's wit he never knew ; And when her courteous deeds he did compare, Gan her admire, and her sad sorrows rue, Blaming of Fortune, which such troubles threw, And joy'd to make proof of her cruelty On gentle dame, so hurtless and so true. Thenceforth he kept her goodly company, And learn'd her disciphne of faith and verity. XXXII. But she, all vow'd unto the Redcross knight. His wand'ring peril closely did lament, Ne in this new acquaintance could delight ; But her dear heart with anguish did torment. And all her wit in secret counsels spent. How to escape. At last in pri\-y wise To Satyrane she showed her intent ; Who, glad to gain such favour, gan devise, How with that pensive maid he best might thence arise. XXXIII. So on a day, when satyrs all were gone To do their service to Sylvanus old. The gentle virgin, left behind alone, He led away with courage stout and bold. Too late it was to satyrs to be told. Or ever hope recover her again ; la vain he seeks that, having, cannot hold. So 'fast he carried her with careful pain. That they the woods are past, and come now to the plain. XXXIV. The better part now of the ling'ring dav They travell'd had, whenas they far espied A weary wight forwand'ring by the way ; And towards him they gan in haste to ride. To weet of nev.s that did abroad betide, Or tidings of her knight of the Redcross ; But he, them spying gan to turn aside For fear, as seem'd, or for some feigned loss : More greedy they of news fast towards him do cross. XXXV. A silly man, in simple weeds foreworn, And soil'd with dust of the long dried way ; His sandals were with toilsome travel torn. And face all tann'd \\ith scorching sunny ray, [book I, As he had travell'd many a summer's day Through boiling sands of Araby and Ind ; And in his hand a Jacob's staff," to stay His weary limbs upon ; and eke behind His scrip did hang, in which his needments he did bind. XXXVI. The knight, approaching nigh, of him inquired Tidings of war, and of adventures new ; Butwars, nor new adventures none he heard. Then Una gan to ask, if aught he knew Or heard abroad of that her champion true. That in his armour bare a crosslet red. " Ay me ! dear dame," quoth he, "well may I rue [read ; To tell the sad sight which mine eyes have These eyes did see t^at knight both living and eke dead,''' " "^ "' XXXVII. That cruel word her tender heart so thrill'd, That sudden cold did run through every vein, And stony horror all her senses fill'd With dying fit, that down she fell for pain. The knight her lightly reared up again, And comforted with courteous kind relief ; Then, won from death, she bade him tellen plain Tlieiurther43rQcess oLher bidden grief : The lesser pangs can bear, who hath endured the chief. XXXVIII. Then gan the pilgrim thus ; " I chanced this day, This fatal day, that shall I ever rue, To see two knights, in travel on my way, (A sorry sight,) arranged in battle new, Both breathing vengeance, both of wrathful hue. My fearful flesh did tremble at their strife. To see their blades so greedily imbrue. That, drunk with blood, yet thirstedafter life : What more ? the Reda'oss knight was slain with Paynim knife." XXXIX. " Ah ! dearest lord," quoth she, "how might tliat be, And he the stoutest knight, that everwonne?" ' ' Ah ! dearest dame, " quoth he, ' ' how might I see l'^o'"'^ ? The thing that might not be, and yet was " Where is," said Satyrane, "that Paynim's son, That him of life, and us of joy. hath reft?" " Xot far away," quoth he, " he hence doth wonne, Foreby a fountain, where I late him left \\'ashing his bloody wounds, that through the steel were cleft." * A pilgrim's staff, carried by those who made a pilgrimage to St. lago di Compostella's shrine. CANTO VI.] THE FAERY QUEE^T. XL. Therewith the knight then marched forth in haste, Whiles Una, with huge heaviness oppress'd, Could not for sorrow follow him so fast ; And soon he came, as he tlie place had guess'd. Whereas that Pagan proud himself did rest In secret shadow by a fountain side ; Even he it was, that erst would have supprest Fair Una ; whom when Satyrane espied, With foul reproachful words he boldly him defied ; XLI. And said ; "Arise, thou cursed miscreant. That hast with knightless guile, and treacher- ous train, [vaunt Fair knighthood foully shamed, and dost That good knight of the Redcross to have ^^ ^Tain : Arise, and with like treason now maintain Thy guilty wrong, or else thee guilty yield." TheSaracen, thishearing.roseamain, [shield And, catching up in haste his three-square And shining helmet, soon him buckled to the field ; XLII. And, drav/ing nigh him, said; "Ah! mis- iDorn Elf, In evil hour thy foes thee hither sent i\jiother's wrongs to wreak upon thyself : Yet ill thou blamest me, for having blent My name with guile and traitorous intent : That Redcross knight, perdie, I never slew ; But had he been, where erst his arms were lent, Th' enchanter vain his error should not rue : But thou his error shalt, I hope, now proven true." XLIII. Therewith they gan, both furious and fell, To thunder blows, and fiercely to assail Each other, bent his enemy to quell ; That with their force they pierced both plate and mail. And made wide furrows in their fleshes frail. That it would pity any living eye. [raile ; Largje-floods of blood adown their sides dfd But floods of blood could not them satisfy ; Both hung'red after death ; both chose to win, or die. XL IV. So long they fight, and full revenge pursue. That, fainting, each themselves to breathen let; And, oft refreshed, battle oft renew. As when two boars, with rankling malice met. Their gory sides fresh bleeding fiercely fret ; Till breathless both themselves aside retire, \Miere, foaming wrath, their cruel tusks they whet, [respire ; And trample tli' earth, the whiles they may Then back to fight again, new breathed and entire. XLV. So fiercely, when these knights had breathed once. They gan to fight return, increasing more Their puissant force, and cruel rage at once, W'ith heaped strokes more hugely than before ; [gore, That with their dreary wounds and bloody They both deformed, scarcely could be kaown. By-tliiSy-sad Una fraught with anguish sore. Led with their noise which through the air was thrown, [blood had sown. .\rrived, where they in earth their fruitless XLVL Whom all so soon as that proud Saracen Espied, he gan revive the memory Of his lewd lusts, and late attempted sin ; And left the doubtful battle hastily, To catch her, newly offered to his eye; [stay'd, But Satyrane, with strokes him turning. And sternly bade him other business ply Than hunt the steps of pure unspotted maid : Wherewith he all enraged these bitter speeches said, XLVIL " O foolish faeries' son, what fury mad Hath thee incensed to haste thy doleful fate? Were it not better I that lady had Than that thou hadst repented it too late? Most senseless man he, that himself doth hate To love another : Lo then, for thine aid. Here take thy lover's token on thy pate." So they to fight ; the whiles the royal maid Fled far away, of that proud Paynim sore afraid. XLVIII. But that false pilgiini, which that leasing told Being in deed old Archimage, did stay In secret shadow all this to behold ; And much rejoiced in their bloody fray : But, when he saw the damsel pass away, He left his stand, and her pursued apace, In hope to bring her to her last decay. But for to tell her lamentable case, [place. And eke this battle's end, will ncv.J"_/^n6ther THE FAERY QUEEA\ [book I. CANTO VII. The Redcross Irnight is captive made By^iant proud opprest: Prince Arthur meets with Una great- ly with those news distrest. What man so wise, what earthly wit so ware, i As to descr}' the crafty cunning traine, I By which Deceit doth mask in visor fair, ; And cast her colours dyed deep in grain, j To seem like Truth, whose shape she well I can feign, And fitting gestures to her purpose frame, [ The guiltless man \^ ith guile to entertain ? | Great mistress of her art was that false dame, i The false Duessa, cloaked with Fidessa's ; name. 1 II. j Who when, returning from the dreary Night, i She found not in that perilous Houseof Pride, \ Where shehad left thenoble Redcross knight, ! Her hoped prey ; she would no longer bide, But forth she went to seek him far and wide. Ere long she found, whereas he weary sate To rest himself foreby a fountain side. Disarmed all of iron-coated plate ; And by his side his steed the grassy forage ate. III. He feeds upon the cooling shade, and bayes His sweaty forehead in the breathing wind. Which through the trembling leaves full gently plays. Wherein the cheerful birds of sundry kind Do chant sweet music, to delight his mind : The witch approaching gan him fairly greet. And with reproach of carelessness unkind Upbraid, for leaving her in place unmeet, With foul words temp'ring fair, sour gall with honey s\\ eet. IV. Unkindness past, they gan of solace treat, And bathe in pleasaunce of the joyous shade, Which shielded them against the boihng heat , And, with green boughs decking a gloomy shade, About the fountain like a garland made ; Whose bubbling wave did ever freshly v.ell, Ne everwould through fervent summer fade: The sacred nvmph, whicli therein v.-ont to dwell. " Was out of Diane's favour, as it then befel. V. The cause was this : One day, when Phoebe fair With all her band was following the chase, This nymph, quite tired with heat of scorch- mg air, Sat down to rest in middest of the race : The goddess wroth gan foully her disgrace, And bade the v>aters, which from her did flow, Be such as she herself was then in place. Thenceforth her waters w axed dull and slow ; And all, that drink thereof, do faint and feeble grow. VI. Hereof this gentle knight unweeting was ; And, lying down upon the sandy graile. Drank of the stream, as clear as crystal glass : Eftsoones his manly forces gan to fail. And mighty strong was turn'd to feeble frail. His changed pow'rs at first themselves not felt; Till cruddled cold his courage gan assail. And cheerful blood in faintness chill did melt, Which, like a fever fit, tlirough all his body swelt. VII. Yet goodly court he made still to his dame, Pour'd out in looseness on the grassy ground. Both careless of his health, and of his fame ; Till at the last he heard a dreadful sound, Which through the wood loud bellowing did rebound, That all the earth for terror seem'd to shake. And trees did tremble. Th' Elf, therewith astound. Upstarted lightly from his looser Make, And his unready weapons gan inhandto take. VIII. But ere he could his armour on him dight, Or get his shield, his monstrous enemy With sturdy steps came stalking in his sight, An hideous giant, horrible and high, [sky ; That with his tallness seem'd to threat the The ground eke groaned under him for dread : His living like saw never living eye, Ne durst behold ; his stature did exceed The height of three the tallest sons of mortal seed. IX. The greatest Earth his tincouth mother was, And blust'ring /Eolus his boasted sire ; Who with his breath, which through the world doth pass. Her hollow womb did secretly inspire, And fiU'd her hidden caves with stormy ire. That she conceived ; and trebling the due time. In which the wombs of women do expire, CANTO VII.] THE FAERY QUEEh\ Brought forth this monstrous mass of earthly slime. [sinful crime. Puff'd up with empty wind, and fiU'd with X, So growen great, through arrogant delight, Of th' high descent whereof he was yborn, And through presumption of his matchless might, [scorn. All other pow'rs and knighthood he did Such now he marcheth to this man forlorn, And left to loss ; his stalking steps are stay'd Upon a snaggy oak, which he had torn Out of his mother's bowels, and it made His mortal mace, wherewith his foemen he dismay'd, XI. That, when the knight he spied, he gan advance With huge force and insupportable main, And towards him with dreadful fury prance ; Who hapless, and eke hopeless, all in vain Did to him pace sad battle to darrayne, Disarm'd, disgraced, and inwardly dismay'd, And eke so faint in every joint and vein. Through that frail fountain, which him feeble made, ;_singlc blade. That scarcely could he wield his bootless XII, The giant struck so mainly merciless. That could have overthrown a stony tow'r ; And, were not heavenly grace that did him bless, He had been powder'd all, as thin as flour ; But he was wary of that deadly stowre, And lightly leapt from underneath the blow: Yet so exceeding was the villain's pow'r That with the wind it did him overthrow, And all his senses siunn'd, that still he lay fuUlow. XIII. As when that devilish iron engine wrought In deepest hell, and framed by Furies' skill, With windy nitre and quick sulphur fraught, And ramm'd with bullet round, ordain'd to kill, Conceiveth fire ; the heavens it doth fill With thund'ring noise, and all the air doth choke, [will. That none can breathe, nor see, nor hear at Through smould'ry cloud of duskish stinking smoke ; [escaped the stroke. That th' only breath him daunts, who hath XIV. So daunted when the giant saw the knight, His heavy hand he heaved up on high. And him to dust thought to have batter'd quite, Until Duessa loud to him gan cry ; " O great Orgoglio, greatest under sky. Oh. ! hold thy mortal hand for laches' sake; Hold for my sake, and do him not to die, , But vanquish'd thine eternal bondslave make. And me, thv worthy meed, unto thy ieman take.'' XV. He heark'ned, and did stay from further harms. To gain so goodly guerdon as she spake : So ^villingly she came into his arms, Who her as willingly to grace did take, And was possessed of his newfound Make. Then up he took the slumber 'd senseless corse ; And, ere he could out of his swoon awake. Him to his castle brought with hasty force. And in a dungeon deep him threw without remorse. XVI, From that day forth Duessa was his dear. And highly honour'd in his haughty eye. He gave her gold and purple pall to wear, And triple crown set on her head full high. And her endow'd with royal majesty : Then, for to make her dreaded more of men, And people's hearts with awful terror tie, A monstrous beast ybred in filthy fen He chose, which he had kept long time in darksome den. XVII, Such one it was, as that renowned snake Which great Alcides in Stremona sle\\', Long fost'red in the filth of Lerna lake : Whose many heads out-budding ever new Did breed him endless labour to subdue. But this same monster much more ugly was ; P'or seven great heads out of his body grew, An iron breast, and back of scaly brass. And all embrued in blood his eyes did shine as glass. XVIII. His tail was stretched out in wondrous length , That to the house of heavenly gods it raught; And with extorted pow'r, and borrow'd strength, [brought, The ever burning lamps from thence it And proudly threw to ground, as things of naught ; And underneath his filthy feet did tread The sacred things, and holy bests foretaught. Upon this dreadful beast with sevenfold head He set the false Duessa, for more awe and dread. XIX. The woful dwarf, which saw his master's fall, (Whiles he had keeping of his grazing steed,) And valiant knight become a caytive thrall ; When all was past, took up his forlorn weed ; His mighty armour, missing most at need ; His silver shield, now idle, masterless ; His poignant spear, that many made to bleed ; The rueful moniments of heaviness ; And with ihem all departs, to tell his great distress. 34 [book I. XX. He had not travell'd long, when on the way He woful lady, woful Una met Fast flying from tliat Paynim's greedy prey, Whilest Sat\'rane him from pursuit did let : Who when her eyes she on the dwarf had set. And saw the signs that deadly tidings spake, She fell to ground for sorrowful regret. And lively breath her sad breast did forsake ; Yet might her piteous heart be seen to pant and quake, xxr. The messenger of so unhappy news Would fain have died ; dead was his heart within Yet outwardly some little comfort shews : At last, recovering heart, he does begin To rub her temples, and to chafe her cliin. And every tender part does toss and turn : So hardly he the flitted life does win Unto her native prison to return. Then gins her grieved ghost thus to lament and mourn : XXII. " Ye dreary instruments of doleful sight, That do this deadly spectacle behold. Why do ye longer feed on loathed light, Or liking find to gaze on earthly mould, Sith cruel Fates the careful threads luifold, The which my life and love together tied ? Now let the stony dart of senseless Cold Pierce to my heart, and pass through every side ; [hide. And let eternal night so sad sight fro me XXIII. " O, lightsome Day, the lamp of highest Jove, First made by him men's wand'ring ways to guide. When darkness he in deepest dungeon drove ; Henceforth thy hated face for ever hide. And shut up heaven's windows shining wide : For earthly sight can nought but sorrow breed. And late repentance, which shall long abide. Mine eyes no more on vanity shall feed. But, sealed up with death, shall have their deadly meed." XXIV. Then down again she fell unto the ground ; But he her quickly reared up again : Thrice did she sink adown in deadly swownd. And thrice he her revived with busy pain. At last when life recover'd had the rayne, And over-wrestled his strong enemy, [vein, Witli falt'ring tongue and trembling every "Tell on," quoth she, "the woful tragedy. The which these relics sad present unto mine eye. XXV. ' ' Tempestuous Fortune hath spent all her spite. And thrilling Sorrow thrown his utmost dart: Thy sad tongue cannot tell more heavy plight Than that I feel, and harbour in mine heart : Who hath endured the whole, can bear each part. If death it be ; it is not the first wound. That lanced hath my breast with bleeding smart. Begin, and end the bitter baleful stound ; If less than that I fear, more favour I have found." XXVI. Then gan the dwarf the whole discourse declare ; The subtle traines of Archimago old ; The wanton loves of false Fidessa fair. Bought with the blood of vanquish'd Paynim bold ; [mould ; The wretched pair transform'd to trecn The House of Pride, and perils round about ; The combat, which he with Sansjoydid hold ; The luckless conflict with the giant stout. Wherein captived, of life or death he stood i in doubt. , XXVII. She heard with patience all unto the end ; And strove to master sorrowful assay, Which greater grew, the more she did contend. And almost rent her tender heart in tway ; And love fresh coals unto her fire did lay : For greater love, the greater is the loss. Was never lady loved dearer day Than she did love the knight of the Redcross ; For whose dear sake so many troubles her did toss. XXVIII. At last when fer\'ent sorrow slaked was, She up arose, resolving him to find Alive or dead ; and forward forth did pass, All as the dv.-arf the way to her assign'd. And evermore, in constant careful mind. She fed her wound with fresh renewed bale : Long tost with storms, and beat with bitter wind, High over hills, and low adown the dale, She wander'd many a wood, and measured many a vale. XXIX. At last she chanced by good hap to meet A goodly knight," fair marching by the way, Together with his squire, arrayed meet : His glitt'ring armour shined far away. Like glancing light of Phoebus' brightest ray ; From top to toe no place appeared bare, That deadly dint of steel endanger mav : I * Arthur. CANTO VI 1.] 03 Athwart his breast a baldric brave he ware, That shined, like twinkling stars, with stones most precious rare : XXX. And, in the midst thereof, one precious stone Of wondrous worth, and eke of wondrous mights, Shaped hke a lady's head, exceeding shone, Like Hesperus amongst the lesser lights. And strove for to amaze the weaker sights : Thereby his mortal blade full comely hung In ivory sheath, ycarved with curious sleights, Whose hilts were burnisht gold ; and handle strong Of mother pear and buckled with a golden tongue. xxxr. His haughty helmet, horrid all with gold, Both glorious brightness and great terror bred : For all the crest a dragon did enfold With greedy paws, and over all did spread His golden wings ; his dreadful hideous head Close couched on thebeaver, seem'd to throw From flaming mouth bright sparkles fiery red, That sudden horror to faint hearts did show. And scaly tail was stretch'd adown his back full low. XXXII. Upon the top of all his lofty crest, A bunch of hairs discolour' d diversely, With sprinkled pearl and gold full richly drest. Did shake, and seem'd to dance for jollity ; Like to an almond tree ymounted high On top of green Selinis all alone. With blossoms brave bedecked daintily ; Whose tender locks do tremble everj^ one At every little breath, that under heaven is blown. XXXIII. His warlike shield all closely cover'd was, Ne might of mortal eye be ever seen ; Not made of steel, nor of enduring brass, (Such earthly metals soon consumed been,) But all of diamond perfect pure and clean It framed was, one massy entire mould, Hewn out of adamant rock with engines keen, That point of spear it never percen could, Ne dint of direful sword divide the substance would. XXXIV. The same to wight he never wont disclose, Butwhenas monsters huge he would dismay. Or daunt unequal armies of his foes. Or when the flying heavens he would affray : For so exceeding shone his glist'ring ray. That Phoebus' golden face it did attaint. As when a cloud his beams doth over-lay ; And silver Cynthia waxed pale and faint, As when her face is stain'd with magic arts constraint. XXXV. No magic arts hereof had any might. Nor bloody words of bold enchanter's call ; But all that was not such as seem'd in sight Before that shield did fade and sudden fall : And, when him list the rascal routs appal. Men into stones therewith he could transmew. And stones to dust, and dust to nought at all : And, when him list the prouder looks subdue, He would them gazing blind, or turn to other hue. XXXVI. Ne let it seem that credence this exceeds ; For he, that made the same, was known right well To have done much more admirable deeds: It Merlin was, which ^\ hylome did excel AU living wights in mind of magic spell : Both shield, and sword, and armour all he wrought [he fell ; For this young prince, when first to arms But, when h e died, the Faery Queen it brough t To Faery land ; where yet it may be seen, if sought. XXXVII. A gentle youth, his dearly loved squire, His spear of ebon wood behind him bare. Whose harmful head, thriceheatedin the fire, Had riven many a breast with pikehead square : A goodly person ; and could manage fair His stubborn steed with curbed canon bit,* Who under him did trample as the air. And chafed, that any on his back should sit ; The iron rowels into frothy foam he bit. XXXVIII. Whenas this knight nigh to the lady drew. With lovely court he gan her entertain ; But, whenheheardheranswersloth, hcknew Some secret sorrow did her heart distrain : , WTiich to allay, and calm her storming pain, j Fair feeling words he wisely gan display, ' And, for her humour fitting purpose feign, j To tempt the cause itself for to bewray ; Wherewith enmoved, these bleeding words she gan to say ; XXXIX. ' 'What world's dehght, or joy of livingspeech, \ Can heart, so plunged in sea of sorrows deep, \ And heaped with so huge misfortunes, reach? The careful Cold beginneth for to creep. And in my heart his iron arrow steep, Soon as I think upon my bitter bale. Such helpless harms it's better hidden keep, * The canon was that part of a horse's bit let into the mouth. — Church. D 2 I. Than rip up grief, ^Yhere it may yet avail ; My last left comfort is my woes to weep and wail." XL, "Ah lady dear," quoth then the gentle knight, [great ; ' ' Well may I ween your grief is wondrous For wondrous great grief groaneth in my spright, [treat. \\Tiiles thus I hear you of your sorrows But, woful lady, let me you intreat For to unfold the anguish of your heart : Mishaps are mast'red by advice discreet, And counsel mitigates the greatest smart ; Found never help, who never would his hurts impart." XLI. "Oh! but," quoth she, "great grief will not be told. And can more easily be thought than said." " Right so," quoth he: "but he, that never j would, [aid." Could never : will to might gives greatest ! ' ' But grief," quoth she, ' ' does greater grow j display'd, _ 1 If then it find not help, and breeds despair. " ; "Despair breeds not," quoth he, "where ; faith is staid." [does paire." " No faith so fast," quoth she, "but flesh " Flesh may impair," quoth he, " but rea- son can repair." I XLII. I His goodly reason, and well-guided speech, I So deep did settle in her gracious thought, j That her persuaded to disclose the breach i Which love and forttme in her heart had | wrought ; [brought And said ; ' ' Fair sir, I hope good hap have You to inquire the secrets of my grief ; | Or that your wisdom will direct my thought ; \ Or that your prowess can me yield relief ; j Then hear the story sad, which I shall tell | you brief. XLIII. " The forlorn maiden, whom your eyes have seen The laughing stock of Fortune's mockeries, Am th' only daughter of a king and queen. Whose parents dear (whiles equal destinies Did run about, and their felicities The favourable heavens did not envy,) [ries, Did spread their rule through all the territo- Which Pison and Euphrates flov/eth by. And Gihon's golden waves do wash con- tinually. XLIV. " Till that their cruel cursed enemy, An huge great dragon, horrible in sight, 3red in the loathly lakes of Tartary,* * Tartarus — Tar tur or Tar tarj* was the common name for it in Spenser's time. — Todd. With murd'rousra vine, and devouringmight. Their kingdom spoil'd, and country wasted quite ; Themselves, for fear into his jaws to fall. He forced to castle strong to take their fiight ; W^here, fast embarr'd in mighty brazen wall, He has them now four years besieged to make them thrall. XLV. " Full many knights, adv-enturous and stout, Have enterprized that monster to subdue : From every coast, that heaven walks about, Have thither come the noble martial crew, That famous hard achievements still pursue ; Yet never any could that garland win, But all still shrunk ; and still he greater gre v.': All they for want of faith, or guilt of sin. The piteous prey of his fierce cruelty have bin. XLvr. ' ' At last, yled with far reported praise, Wliich flying Fame throughout the world had spread, [raise. Of doughty knights, whom Fairy land did That noble order high of Maidenhead, Forthwith to court of Gloriane I sped. Of Gloriane, great queen of glory bright. Whose kingdom's seat CleopoHs is read ; There to obtain some such redoubted knight That parents dear from tyrant's pow'r de- j liver might. I XLVII. j " It was my chance (my chance was fair and ! good) I There for to find a fresh unproved knight ; i Whose manly hands imbrued in guilty blood Had never been, ne never by his might Had thrown to ground the unregarded right : I Yet of his prowess proof he since has made ' (I witness am) in many a cruel fight ; j The groaning ghosts of many one dismay' d I Have felt the bitter dint of his avenging blade. XLVIII. ' ' And ye, the forlorn relies of his pow'r. His biting Sword, and his devouring Spear, Which have endured manya dreadful stowre. Can speak his prowess, that did erst you bear, And well could rule ; now he hath left you To be the record of his rueful loss, [here And of my doleful disadventurous dear : O heavy record of the good Redcross, Where have ye left yoiu* lord, that could so well yoti toss ? XLIX. " Well hoped I, and fair beginnings had, That he my captive languor should redeem : Till all unv.-eeting an enchanter bad His sense abused, and made him to misdeem My loyalty, not such as it did seem. That rather death desire than such despite. CANTO VIII.] Be judge, ye heavens, that all things right esteem, [might ! How I him loved, and love with all my bo thought I eke of him, and think I thought aright. L. ' ' Thenceforth me desolate he quite forsook, To wander, where wild Fortune would me And other byways he himself betook, [lead, Where never foot of living wight did tread, That brought not back the baleful body dead ; In which him chanced false Duessa meet, Mine only foe, mine only deadly dread ; Who witli her witchcraft, and misseeming sweet. Inveigled him to follow her desires unmeet. LI. "Atlast, by subtle sleights she himbetray'd Unto his foe, a giant huge and tall ; Who him disarmed, dissolute, dismay'd. Unawares surprised, and with might} The monster merciless liim made to fall. Whose fall did ne\er foe before behold : And now in darksome dungeon, wretche. Remediless, for aye he doth him hold : [thrall, This is my cause of grief, more great than may be told." LII. Ere she had ended all, she gan to faint : But he her comforted, and fair bespak'- ; " CJertes, madame, ye have great cause of plaint, [quake. That stoutest heart, I ween, could cause to But be of cheer, and comfort to you take ; For, till I have acquit your captive knight, Assure yourself, I will you not forsake." His cheerful words revived her cheeriest spright. So forth they went, the dwarf them guiding ever right. CANTO VIII. Fair virgin, to redeem her dear, Brings Arthur to the fight ; Who slays the giant, wounds the beast, And strips Duessa quite. Ay me, how many perils do enfold The righteous man, to make him daily fall, Were not that heavenly grace doth him uphold. And stedfast Truth acquit him out of all ! Her love is firm, her care continual, So oft as he, through his own foolish pride Or weakness is to sinful bands made thrall : Else should this Redcross knight in bands have died, [thither guide. For whose deliverance she this prince doth They sadly travell'd thus, until they came. Nigh to a castie builded strong and high : Then cried the dwarf, " Lo ! yonder is the same, [lie. In which my lord, my liege, doth luckless Thrall to that giant's hateful tyranny : Therefore, dear sir, your mighty pow'rs assay." The noble knight alighted by and by From lofty steed, and bade the lady stay. To see what end of fight should him befall that day. III. So with his squire, th' admirer of his might, He marched forth towards that castle wall; Whose gates he found fast shut, ne living wight To ward the same, nor answer comers' call. Then took that squire an horn of bugle small, Which hung adown his side in twisted gold Xwd tassels gay : wide wonders over all Of that same horn's great virtues weren told Which had approved been in uses manifold. IV. Was never wight that heard that shrilling sound, But trembling fear did feel in every vein : Three miles it might be easy heard around, And echoes three answer'd itself again : Xo false enchantment, nor deceitful traine }^Iight once abide the terror of that blast. But presently was void and wholly vain : No gate so strong, no lock so firm and fast, But with that piercing noise flew open quite, or brast. V. The same before the giant's gate he blew. That all the casde quaked from the ground. And every door of free-will open flew. Tlie giant self dismayed with that sound. Where he with his Duessa dalliance found. In haste came rushing forth from inner bow'r. With staring countenance stern, as one astound, [stowre And staggering steps, to weet what sudden 1 Had wrought that horror strange, and 1 dared his dreaded pow'r. [book I. VI. riiari after him the proud Duessa came, ^^y.gh mounted on her many-headed beast; vnd every head with fiery tongue did flame, And every head was crowned on his crest, And bloody mouthed with late cruel feast. That when the knight beheld, his mighty shield Upon his manly arm he soon addrest, And at him fiercely flew, with courage fill'd. And eager greediness through every member thriU'd. VII. Therewith the giant buckled him to fight. Inflamed with scornful wrath and high disdain. And lifting up his dreadful club on height, All arm'd with ragged snubbes and knotty grain, [slain. Hira thought at first encounter to have But wise and warj^ was that noble peer ; And, lightly leaping from so monstrous main. Did fair avoid the violence him near ; It booted nought to think such thunder- bolts to bear ; VIII. Ne shame he thought to shun so hideous might : The idle stroke, enforcing furious way, Missing the mark of his misaimed sight. Did fail to ground, and with his heavy sway So deeply dinted in the driven clay, That three yards deep a furrow up did throw : The sad earth, wounded with so sore assay, Did groan full grievous underneath the blow ; An'^v trembling with strange fear, did like \^ an earthquake show. IX. As when almighty Jove, in wrathful mood, To wreak the guilt of mortal sins is bent, Hurls forth his thund'ring dart with deadly food, [ment, EnroU'd in flames, and smould'ring dreri- Through riven clouds and molten firmament ; The fierce threeforked engine making way, Both lofty tow'r and highest trees hath rent. And all that might his angry passage stay ; And, shooting in the earth, casts up a mount of clay. \ His boistrous club, so buried in the ground, He could not rearen up again so light. But that the knight him at advantage found ; And, whiles he strove his cumb'red club to quite [bright Out of the earth, with blade all burning He smote off his left arm, which like a block Did fall to ground deprived of native might ; Large streams of blood out of the trunked stock [riven rock. Forth gushed, like fresh-water stream from XI. Dismayed with so desperate deadly wound, And eke impatient of unwonted pain, He loudly bray'd with beasth^ yelling sound, That all the fields rebellowed again : As great a noise as when in Cymbrian plain, An herd of bulls, whom kindly rage doth sti ng, Do for the milky mother's want complain, And fill the fields with troublous bellowing : The neighbour woods around with hollow murmur ring. XII. That when his dear Duessa heard, and saw The evil stownd that danger'd her estate, Unto his aid she hastily did draw. Her dreadful beast : who, swoll'n with blood of late, [tuous gate, Came ramping forth with proud presump- And threaten' d all his heads like flaming brands. But him the squire made quickly to retreat, Encount'ring fierce with single sword in hand; And twixt him and his lord did like a bul- wark stand. XIII. The proud Duessa, full of wrathful spite And fierce disdain, to be affronted so, Enforced her purple beast with all her might, That stop out of the way to overthrow, Scorning the let of so unequal foe : But nathemore would that courageous swain To her yield passage, gainst his lord to go ; But with outrageous strokes did him restrain, And with his body barr'd the way atwixt them twain. XIV. Then took the angry witch her golden cup, Which still she bore, replete with magic arts ; Death and despair did many thereof sup, And secret poison through their inner parts ; Th' eternal bale of heavy wounded hearts : Which, after charms and some enchant- ments said. She lightly sprinkled on his weaker parts : Therewith his sturdy courage soon was quay'd, [dismay'd. And all his senses were with sudden dread XV. So down he fell before the cruel beast. Who on his neck his bloody claws did seize. That life nigh crush'd out of his panting breast : No pow'r he had to stir, nor will to rise. That when the careful knight gan well avise, He lightly left the foe with whom he fought, And to the beast gan turn his enterprise ; For wond'rous anguish in his heart it wrought, To see his loved squire into such thraldom brought ; CANTO VIII.] XVI. And, high advancing his blood-thirsty blade, Struck one of those deformed heads so sore, That of his puissance proud ensample made ; His monstrous scalp down to his teeth it tore, And that misformed shape misshaped more : A seaof blood gush'd from the gaping wound, That her gay garments stain'd ^\^th filthy gore, And overflowed all the field around ; That over shoes in blood he waded on the ground. XVII. Thereat he roared for exceeding pain, That, to have heard, great horror would have bred ; [train, And scourging th' empty air with his long Through great impatience of his grieved head. His gorgeous rider from her lofty stead Would have cast down, and trod in dirty mire, Had not the giant soon her succoured ; Who, all enraged with smart and frantic ire, Came hurtling in full fierce, and forced the knight retire. XVIII. The force, which wont in two to be dispersed, In one alone left hand he now unites, Which is through rage more strong than both were erst ; With which his hideous club aloft he dites. And at his foe with furious rigour smites, That strongest oak might seem to overthrow : The stroke upon his shield so heavy lights, That to the ground it doubleth him full low : — What mortal wight could ever bear so mon- strous blow ? XIX. And in his fall his shield, that cover'd was. Did loose his veil by chance, and open flew ; The light whereof, that heaven's hght did pass, Lthrew, Such blazing brightness through the aier That eye mote not the same endure to view. Which when the giant spied with staring eye, He down let fall his arm, and soft withdrew His weapon huge, that heaved was on high For to have slain the man, that on the ground did he. XX. And eke the fruitful-headed beast, amazed At flashing beams of that sunshiny shield, Became stark blind, and all his senses dazed, That down he tumbled on the dirty field, And seem'd himself as conquered to yield. Whom when his mistress proud perceived to fall. Whiles yet his feeble feet for faintness reel'd, Unto the giant loudly she gan call , " O ! help, Orgoglio ; help, or cbc w( all." XXI. At her so piteous cry was much amoved Her champion stout ; and for to aid 1. friend. Again his wonted angry weapon proved, Iiut all in vain : for he has read his end In that bright shield, and all their forces spend [sight, Themselves in vain : for, since that glancing He hath no pow'r to hurt, nor to defend. As where th' Almighty's lightning brand does light, [senses quite. It dims the dazed eyen, and daunts the XXII. Whom when the prince, to battle new ad- drest [did sec, And threat'ning high his dreadful stroke. His sparkling blade about his head he blest. And smote off quite his left leg by the knee, That down he tumbled ; as an aged tree, High growing on the top of rocky clift, Whose heart-strings with keen steel nigh hewen be ; The mighty trunk half rent with ragged rift Doth roll adown the rocks, and fall with fear- ful drift. XXIII, Or as a castle, reared high and round. By subtle engines and malicious sleight Is undermined from the lowest ground, And her foundation forced, and feebled quite, [hct>ht At last down falls; and with her heai- -^ Her hasty ruin does more heavy make, And yields itself unto the victor's might : Such was this giant's fall, that seem'd to shake [quake. The steadfast globe of earth, as it for fear did XXTV. The knight then, hghtly leaping to the prey, With mortal steel him smote again so sore, That headless his luiwieldy body lay. All wallow'd in his owti foul bloody gore, Which flowed from his wounds in wondrous store. But, soon as breath out of his breast did pass. That huge great body, which the giant bore. Was vanish'd quite ; and of that monstrous mass Twas, Was nothing left, but hke an empty bladder XXV. Whose grievous fall when false Duessa spied, Her golden cup she cast unto the ground. And crowned mitre rudely threw aside : Such piercing grief her stubborn heart did wound, [stound ; That she could not endure that doleful [book 1. ing all behind her, fled away : .t,,iit-foot squire her quickly turn'd ^ iround, :ifi uy hard means enforcing her to stay, (i>roug]it unto his lord, as his deserved p!-ey. ; XXVI. The royal virgin which beheld from far, Jn pensive plight and sad perplexity, Tiie whole achievement of this doubtful war, Came running fast to greet his victory, With sober gladness and mild modesty ; And, witli sweet joyous cheer, him thus bespake : " Fair branch of noblesse, flow'r of chivalry. That with yourworth the world amazed make, How shall I quite the pains, ye suffer for my sake ? XXVII. "And you, fresh bud of virtue springing fast, [door, Whom these sad eyes saw nigh unto Deatli's What hath poor virgin for such peril past Wherewith you to reward ? Accept therefore My simple self, and service evermore. And He that high does sit, and a" things see With equal eye, their merits to restore. Behold what ye this day have done for me • And, w4iat I cannot quite, requite with usury ! XXVIII. " But sith the heavens, and your fair hande- ling, Have made you master of the field this day ; Your fortune master eke with governing, And well begun, end all so well, I pray ! NA'.et that wicked woman scape away ; For she it is, that did my lord be-thrall. My dearest lord, and deep in dungeon lay ; Where he his better days hath wasted all : O hear, hov; piteous he to you for aid does call ! " XXIX. Forthv/ith he gave in cliarge mito his squire, That scarlet whore to keepen carefully ; Whiles he himself with greedy great desire Into the castle ent'red forcibly, Where living creature none he did espy : Then gan he loudly through thehouse to call ; But no man cared to answer to his cry : There reign'd a solemn silence over all ; Nor voice was heard nor wight was seen in bow'r or hall ! XXX. At last, with creeping crooked pace forth came An old old man, with beard as white as snow ; That on a staff his feeble steps did frame, And JTuide his weary gate both to and fro ; For his eye-sight him failed long ago : And on his arm a bunch of keys he bore, The which unused rust did overgrow : Those were the keys of every inner door ; But he could not them use, but kept them still in store. XXXI. But very uncouth sight was to behold, How he did fashion his untoward pace ; For as he forward moved his footing old. So backward still was turn'd his wrinkled face: Unlike to men, who ever, as they trace. Both feet and face one way are wont to lead. This was the ancient keeper of that place. And foster father of the giant dead ; His name Ignaro did his nature right aread. XXXII. His reverend hairs and holy gravity The knight much honour'd, as beseemed well; And gently ask'd, where all the people be, Which in that stately building wont to dwell : Who answer'd him full soft. He could not tell. Again he ask'd, where that same knight was laid, ^ [fell WTiom great Orgoglio with his puissance Had made his caytive thrall : again he said, He could not tell; ne ever other answer made. XXXIII. Then asked he, which way he in might pass ; He could not tell, again he answered. Thereat , the courteous knight displeased was, And said ; " Old sire, it seems thou hast not read How ill it sits with that same silver head. In vain to mock, or mock'd in vain to be : But if thou be, as thou art portrayed W^ith Nature's pen, in age's grave degree, Aread in graver wise what I demand of thee." XXXIV. His answer likewise was, He could not tell. Whose senseless speech, and doted ignor- ance, Whenas the noble prince had marked well, He guess'd his nature by his countenance ; And calm'd his wrath with goodly temper- ance, [reach Then, to him stepping, from his arm did Those keys, and made himself free enterance. Each door he open'd without any breach : There was no bar to stop, nor foe him to impeach. XXXV. There all within full rich array'd he found, A\"ith royal arras, and resplendent gold. And did with store of every thing abound, That greatest prince's presence might behold. But all the floor (too filthy to be told) With blood of guiltless babes, and innocents true, [fold, Wliich there were slain, as sheep out of the Defiled was ; that dreadful was to view ; And sacred ashes over it was strewed new. CANTO VIII.] XXXVl. I And there beside of marble stone \vas built f An altar, car\-ed with cunning imagery ; On which true Christians' blood was often spilt, i And holy mart}T5 often done to die, , With cruel malice and strong tyranny : Whose blessed sprights, from underneath the stone, To God for vengeance cried continually ; And with great grief were often heard to groan ; [piteous moan. That hardest heart would bleed to hear their I xxxvir. Through every room he sought, and every bow'r, But no where could he find that woful thrall. At last he came unto an iron door [all That fast was lock'd ; but key found not at Amongst that bunch to open it w ithal ; But in the same a little grate was pight, Through which he sent his voice, and loud did call With all his pow'r, to weet if living wight Were housed there within, whom he enlargen might. XXXVIII. Therewith an hollow, drear}', murmuring voice [resound ; These piteous plaints and dolours did " O ! who is that, which brings me happy choice Of death, that here he dying every stound. Yet live perforce in baleful darkness bound ? For now three moons have changed thrice their hue, [ground, And have been thrice hid underneath the Since I the heaven's cheerful face did viev,-, O welcome, thou, that dost of death bring tidings true. XXXIX. Which when that champion heard, with piercing point Of pity dear his heart was thrilled sore ; And trembling horror ran through everyjoint For ruth of gentle knight so foul forlore : Which shaking off, he rent that iron door With furious force and indignation fell ; WTiere ent'red in, his foot could find no floor. But all a deep descent, as dark as hell, That breathed ever forth a filthy baneful smell. XL. pan neither darkness foul, nor filthy bands, Kor novous smell, his purpose could withhold {Entire affection hateth nicer hands,) 3ut that with ccn ~tant zeal and courage bold, After long pairs and labours manifold. He found th' ''.leans that prisoner up to rear; Whose feet J thighs, unable to uphold His pined corse, him scarce to light cc A rueful spectacle of death andghast. XLI. His sad dull eyes, deep sunk in hollo\. Could not endure th' unwonted sun to v His bare thin cheeks for want of better b And empty sides deceived of their due, Could make a stony heart his hap to rue ; His rawbone arms, whose mighty brawned bow'rs [hew, Were wont to rive steel plates, and helmets Were clean consumed ; and all his vital pow'rs [withered fiow'rs. Decay' d ; and all his flesh shrunk up like XLII. Whom when his lady saw, to him she ran With hasty joy : to see him made her glad, And sad to view his visage pale and wan ; WTio erst in flow'rs of freshest youth was clad. Tho, when her well of tears she wasted had, She said : "Ah, dearest lord ! what evil star On you hath frown'd, and pour'd his influ- ence bad. That of yourself ye thus berobbed are, And this misseeming hue your manly look doth mar ? XLIII. " But welcome now, my lord, in weal or woe, Whose presence I have lack'd too long a day: And fie on Fortune mine avowed foe, \Miose wrathful wreaks themselves do now allay ; [pay And for these wrongs shall treble penance Of treble good : good grows of evil's priefe." Thecheerless man, whom sorrow did dismay, Had no dehght to treaten of his grief : His long endured famine needed more reliet. XLIV. " Fairlady," then said that victorious knight, " The things, that grievous were to do, or bear, Them to renew, I wot®, breeds no delight ; Best music breeds delight in loathing ear : But th' only good, that grows of passed fear, Is to be wise, and ware of like again. This day's ensample hath this lesson dear Deep written in my heart with iron pen, That bliss may not abide in state of mortal men. XLV. ' ' Henceforth, sir knight, take to you wonted strength, ' [micht : And master these mishaps \nth patient Lo, where your foe liesstretch'd in monstrous length ; And lo, th.at wicked woman in your sigiit. The root of all your care and v.retched plight, Now in your pow'r, to let her five, or dfe." "To do her die," quoth Una, "were despite, And shame t' avenge so weak an enemy ; But spoil her of her scarlet robe, and let her fly. ' [dook I. XLVI. i' ide, that witch they disarray'd, i-ii I d of royal robes, and purple pall, niiiinents that richly were display'd ; they to strip her naked all. ), v.hen tliey had dcspoil'd her tire and caul, [behold, /; as she was, their eyes might her u her misshaped parts did them appal; .oathy, wrinkled hag^, ill-favoured, old, hose secret filth good manners biddeth not be told. XLVII. Her crafty head was altogether bald. And, as in hate of honourable eld, Was overgrown with scurf and filthy scald ; Her teeth out of her rotten gums were fell'd, And her sour breath abominably smell'd ; Her dried dugs, like bladders lacking wind. Hung down, and filthy matter from them well'd ; Her wrinkled skin, as rough as maple rind, So scabby was, that would have loath' d all womankind. -. XLVIII. Her nether parts, the shame of all her kind. My chaster Muse for shame doth blush to write ; But at her rump she growing had behind A fox's tail, with dung all foully dight : And eke her feet most monstrous were in sight ; For one of them was like an eagle's claw, With griping talons arm'd to greedy fight ; The other like a bear's uneven paw : [saw. More ugly shape yet never living creature XLIX. Which, when the knights beheld, amazed they were And wond'red at so foul deformed wight. "Such then," said Una, "as she seemeth here, [sight Such is the face of Falsehood ; such the Of foul Duessa, when her borrow'd light Is laid away, and counterfesaunce known." Thus when they had the witch disrobed quite, And all her filthy feature open shown. They let her go at will, and wander ways unknown. L. , ] She, flying fast from heaven s hated face. And from the world that her discover'd wide, , Fled to the wasteful wilderness apace, From living eyes her open shame to hide ; And lurk'din rocks and caves, long unespied. But that fair crew of knights, and Una fair, Did in that castle afterwards abide. To rest themselves, and weary pow'rs repair; Where store they found of all, that dainty was and rare. CAXTO IX. His loves and lineage Arthur tells ; The knights knit friendly bands : Sir Trevisan flies from Despair, Whom Redcross knight \\'ithstands O ! GOODLY golden chain, wherewith yfere The virtues linked are in lovely wise ; And noble minds of yore alhed were. In brave pursuit of chivalrous emprize, That none did others' safety despise, Nor aid emy to him, in need that stands ; But friendly each did other's praise de\'ise. How to advance with favourable hands. As this good prince redeem' d the Redcross knight from bands. V\Tio when their pow'rs, impair'd through labour long. With due repast they had recured well, And that weak captive wight now wa.xed strong ; Them hst no longer there at leisure dwell, But forward fare, as their adventures fell ; But, ere they parted, Una fair besought That stranger knight his name and nation teU ; [wrought, Lest so great good, as he for her had Should die unknown, and buried be in thankless thought. III. ' ' Fair virgin, ' ' said the prince, ' ' ye me require A thing \\ithout the compass of my wit : For both the lineage, and the certain sire. From which I sprang, from me are hidden yet, For all so soon as life did me admit Into this world, and shewed heaven's light, From mother's pap I taken was unfit. And straight deliver' d to a Faery knighi, To be upbrought in gentle thewcs aiid mar . tial might. IV. " Unto old Timon he me bi.->ught byhve ; Old Timon, who in youthlyyu-rs hath been In warUke feats th' cxpcrtest nu s\ alive, CAXTO IX. J 4S And is the wisest now on earth I ween : His dwelling is, low in a valley green, Under the foot of Rauran mossy hoar. From whence the river Dee, as silver clean. His tumbling billows rolls with gentle roar ; There all my days he train'd me up in virtuous lore. Y. " Thither the great magician Merlin came, As was his use, ofttimes to visit me ; For he had charge my discipline to frame, And tutors' nouriture to oversee. Him oft and oft I ask'd in privity, Of what loins and what lineage I did spring. Whose answer bade me still assured be, That I was son aijd heir unto a king, As time in her just ferm the truth to light should bring. " vr. ' ' \Vell worthy Imp, " said then the lady gent, "And pupil fit for such a tutor's hand ! But what adventure, or what high intent. Hath brought you hither into Faery land, Aread, Prince Arthur, crown of martial band? " " Full hard it is," quoth he, " to read aright The course of heavenly cause, or understand The secret meaning of th' Eternal Might, That rules men's ways, and rules the thoughts of living wight, VII. ' ' For whether He, through fatal deep fore- sight, Me hither sent, for cause to me unguess'd ; Or that fresh bleeding wound, which day and night Whylome doth rankle in my riven breast, With forced fury following his behest, Me hither brought byways yet never found ; You to have hclp'd I hold myself yet blest." "Ah! courteous knight," quoth she, "what secret wound [on ground?" Could ever find to grieve the gentlest heart VIII. "Dear dame," quoth he, "you sleeping sparks awake, [grow ; Which, troubled once, into huge flames will Ne ever will their fervent fury slake, Till living moisture into smoke do ^o\\, And wasted life do lie in ashes low. Yet sithens' silence lesseneth not my fire. But, told,itflames; and, hidden, itdoesglow ; I will reveal what ye so much desire : Ah ! Love, lay down thy bow, the whiles I may respire. IX. "It was in freshest flow'r of youthly years, " Vhen courage first does creep in manly chest ; 'len first that coal of kindly heat appears To kindle love in everv living breast : But me had warn'd old Timon's wisno- fear ; Those creeping flames by reason to 'ilaht, Before their rage grew to so great uri.-,- bear : As miserable lovers used to rue, eeches Which still wax old in woe, whiles woe A\axcth new. X. ' ' That idle name of love, and lover's life, As loss of time, and virtue's enemy, I ever scorn'd, and joy'd to stir up strife, In middest of their mournful tragedy ; Aye wont to laugh, when them I heard to cry. And blow the fire, which them to ashes brent : Their god himself, grieved at my liberty. Shot many a dart at me with fierce intent ; But I them warded all with wary government. XI. " But all in vain ; no fort can be so strong, Xe fleshly breast can armed be so sound. But will at last be won with batt'ry long. Or unawares at disadvantage found : Nothing is sure that grows on earthly groirnd. And who most trusts in arm of fleshly might, And boasts in beauty's chain not to be bound, Doth soonest fall in disadventrous fight. And yields his caytive neck to victor's most despite. XIT. " Ensample make of him your hapless jo}'. And of myself now mated, as ye see ; [boy Whose prouder vaunt that proud avenging Did soon pluck down, and curb'd my liberty. For on a day, prick' d forth with jollity Of looser life and heat of hardiment, Ranging the forest wide on courser free. The fields, the floods, the heavens, with one consent, [intent. Did seem to laugh on me, and favour mine XIII. " Forwearied with my sports, I did alight From lofty steed and down to sleep me laid : The verdant grass my couch did goodly dight, And pillow was my helmet fair display'd : Whiles every sense the humour sweet em- bay' d, [away, And slumb'ring soft my heart did steal Me seemed, by my side a royal maid Her dainty limbs full softly clown did lay ; So fair a creature yet saw never sunny day, I XIV. ' " Most goodly glee and lovely blandishment She to me made, and bade me love her dear ; For dearly sure her love was to me bent. As, ^^hen just time expired, should appear. But, whether dreams delude, or true it wert, Was never heart so ravish'd with delight, Xe living man like words did ever hear. As she to me delivered all that night ; And at her parting said, she Queen of Faeries hight. [book I. XV. . I awoke, and found her place devoid, jug'ht but pressed grass where she had hen, row'd all so much as erst I joy'd, \ ^\ .ished all her place with wat'ry even. oni that day forth I loved that face divine ; !c>m that day forth I cast in careful mind, r> > seek her out with labour and long tyne, Aiid never vow'd to rest till her I find : Nine months I seek in vain, yet ni'll that vow unbind," XVI. Thus as he spake, his visage waxed pale, And change of hue great passion did bewray ; Yet still he strove to cloak his inward bale, And hide the smoke that did his fire display ; Till gentle Una thus to him gan say ; " O happy Queen of Faeries, that hast found, Mongst many, one that with his prowess may Defend thine honour, and thy foes confound ! True loves are often sown, but seldom grow- on ground." XVII. "Thine, O ! then," said the gentle Redcross knight, " Next to that lady's love, shall be the place, O fairest virgin, full of heavenly light, Wliose wondrous faith exceeding earthly race, Was firmest fix'd in mine extremest case. And you, my lord, tha patron of my hfe. Of that great queen may well gain worthy grace ; For only worthyyou through prowess priefe, If living man mote worthy be, to be her lief. " XVIII. So diversely discoursing of their loves, The golden sun his glist'ring head gan shew. And sad remembrance now the prince amoves With fresh desire his voyage to pursue : Als Una yearn'd her travel to renew, [bind, Then those two knights, fast friendship for to And love estabUsh each to other true. Gave goodly gifts, the signs of grateful mind, Andeke, aspledgesfirm, right hands together join'd. XIX. Prince Arthur gave a box of diamond sure, Embow'd with gold and gorgeous ornament. Wherein were closed few drops of liquor pure. Of wondrous worth, and virtue excellent, That any wound could heal incontinent. Which to requite, the Redcross knight him gave A book, wherein his Saviour's Testament Was writ with golden letters rich and brave ; A work of wondrous grace, and able souls to save. XX. Thus been they parted ; Arthur on his way To seek his love, and th' other for to fight With Una's foe, that all her realm did prey. But she, now weighing the decayed plight, And shrunken sinews of her chosen knight. Would not a while her forward course pursue, Xe bring him forth in face of dreadful fight, Till he recover'd had his former hue : For him to be yet weak and weary well she knew. XXI. So as they travell'd, lo ! they gan espy An armed knight towards them gallop fast, That seemed from some feared foe to fly. Or other grisly thing, that him aghast. Still, as he fled, his eye was backward cast, As if his fear still follow'd him behind : Als flew his steed, as he his bands had brast. And with his winged heels did tread the wind. As he had been a foal of Pegasus his kind. XXII. Xigh as he drew, he might perceive his head To be unarm'd, and curl'd uncombed hairs Upstaring stiff, dismay'd with uncouth dread : Xor drop of blood in all his face appears, Xor life in limb ; and to increase his fears, In foul reproach of knighthood's fair degree, About his neck an hempen rope he wears. That with his glist'ring arms does ill agree : But he of rope, or arms, has now no memory. XXIII. The Redcross knight toward him crossed fast, To weet what mister wight was so dismay'd : There him he finds all senseless and aghast. That of himself he seeni'd to be afraid ; \Miom hardly he from flying forward stay'd. Till he these words to him dehver might : ' ' Sir knight, aread who hath ye thus array'd. And eke from whom make ye this hasty flight? ' [plight." For never knight I saw in such misseeming XXIV. He answer'd nought at all ; but adding new Fear to his first amazement, staring wide \\\\\i stony eyes and heartless hollow hue, Astonish'd stood as one that had espied Infernal Furies with their chains untied. Him yet again, and yet again, bespake The gentle knight : who nought to him replied. But trembling every joint did inly quake, And falt'ring tongue at last these words seem'd forth to shake : XXV. " For God's dear love, sir knight, do me not stay ; For lo ! he comes, he comes fast after me ! " Eft looking back would fain have run away : CANTO IX.] 45 But he him forced to stay, and tellen free The secret cause of his perplexity : Yet nathemore by his bold hearty speech Could his blood-frozen heart embold'ned be, B;it through his boldness rather fear did reach ; [sudden breach : Yet, forced, at last he made through silence XXVI. " And am I now in safety sure," quoth he, ' ' From him, that would have forced me to die ? And is the point of death now turn'd from me. That Imaytellthis hapless history?" [nigh." " Fearnought," quoth he, "no danger now is "Then shall I you recount a rueful case," Said he, " the which with this unlucky eye I late beheld ! and had not greater grace Me reft from it, had been partaker of the place. XXVI r. "I lately chanced (would I had never chanced ! ) With a fair knight to keepen company, Sir Terwin hight, that well himself advanced In all affairs, and was both bold and free ; But not so happy as mote happy be : He loved, as was his lot, a lady gent, That him again loved in the least degree ; For she was proud, and of too high intent, Andjoy'd to see herlover languish and lament: XXVIII. ' ' From whom returning sad and comfortless. As on the way together we did fare, [bless ! ) We met that villain, (God from him me That cursed wight, from whom I scaped whyleare, A man of hell, that calls himself Despair ; Who first us greets, and after fair areads Of tidings strange, and of adventures rare : So creeping close, as snake in hidden weeds, Inquireth of our states, and of our knightly deeds. XXIX. ' ' Which when he knew, and felt our feeble hearts Embost with bale, and bitter biting grief, Which Love had lanced with his deadly darts ; [reprief. With wounding words, and terms of foul He pluck'd from us all hope of due relief. That erst us held in love of ling'ring life : Then hopeless, heartless, gan the cunning thief Persuade us die, to stint all further strife ; To me he lent this rope, to him a rusty knife : XXX. " With which sad instrument of hasty death. That woful lover loathing longer light, A wide way made to let forth living breath. But I, more fearful or more lucky wight, Dismay'd with that deformed dismal sight, Fled fast away, half dead with dying fear ; Xe yet assured of life by you, sir knight. Whose like infirmity like chance may bear : But God you never let his charmed speeches hear ! " XXXI. "How may a man," said he, "with idle speech Be won to spoil the castle of his health? " "I wote," quoth he, "whom trial late did teach, I'hat like would not for all this worldes wealth. His subtle tongue, like dropping honey, melt'h Into the heart, and searcheth every vein ; That, ere one be aware, by secret stealth His pow'r isreft and weakness doth remain. O never, sir, desire to try his guileful traine ! " XXXII. ' ' Certes, " said he, ' ' hence shall I never rest. Till Ithat treachour's art have heard and tried : And you, sir knight, whose name mote I request. Of grace do me unto his cabin guide." " I , that hight Trevisan, " quoth he, ' ' will ride, Against my liking, back to do you grace : But not for gold nor glee will I abide By you, when ye arrive in that same place : For leifer had I die than see his deadly face." XXXIII. Ere long they come, where that same wicked wight His dwelling has, low in an hollow cave. Far underneath a craggy cliff ypight. Dark, doleful, dreary, like a greedy grave,-^ That still for carrion carcasses doth crave : On top whereof aye dwelt the ghastly o\\\ : Shrieking his baleful note, which ever drave Far from that haunt all other cheerful fowl ; And all about it wand' ring ghosts did wail and howl : XXXIV. And all about old stocks and stubs of trees, Whereon nor fruit nor leaf was ever seen. Did hang upon the ragged rocky knees ; On which had many wretches hanged been Whose carcasses were scatt'red on the green. And thrown about the cliffs. Arrived there. That bare-head knight, for dread and dole- ful teene, [near ; Would fain have fled, ne durst approachcn But th' other forced him stay, and comforted in fear. XXXV. That darksome cave they enter, where they find That cursed man, low sitting on the ground, Musing full sadly in his sullen mind : His grisly locks, long growen and unbound, Disorder'd hung about his shoulders round, 46 [book I. And hid his face ; through which his hollow eyne Look'd deadly dull, and stared as astound ; His raw-bone cheeks, through penury and pine, [dine. Were shrunk into his jaws, as he did never XXXVI. His garments, nought but many ragged clouts, [was, \\'ith thorns together pinn'd and patched The which his naked sides he wrapt abouts : And him beside there lay upon the grass, A dreary corse whose life away did pass, All wallow'd in his own yet luke-warm blood, That from his wound yet welled fresh, alas ! In which a rusty knife fast fixed stood. And made an open passage for the gushing flood. XXXVI r. \\Tiich piteous spectacle, approving true The woful tale that Trevisan had told, Whenas the gentle Redcross knight did view; With fieiy zeal he burnt in courage bold Him to avenge, before his blood were cold ; :\nd to the villain said ; ' ' Thou damned wight, The author of this fact we here behold, ^^'hat justice can but judge against thee right, With thine own blood to price his blood, here shed in sight?" XXXVIII. "What frantic fit," quoth he, "hath thus distraught Thee, foolish man, so rash a doom to give ? What justice ever other judgment taught, But he should die, who merits not to live ? None else to death this man despairing drive But his own guilty mind, deserving death. Is then unjust to each his due to give ? Or let him die, that loatheth living breath? Or let him die at ease, that live th here uneath ? XXXIX. "Who travels by the weary wand'ringway. To come unto his wished home in haste, And meets a flood, that doth his passage stay ; Is not great grace to help him over past. Or free his feet that in the mire stick fast ? Most envious man, that grieves at neigh- bours' good ; And fond, thai joyest in the woe thou hast ; Why wilt not let him pass, that long hath stood [flood ? Upon the bank, yet wilt thyself not pass the XL. " He there does now enjoy eternal rest And happy ease, which thou dost want and crave. And further from it daily wanderest ; \Vhat if some little pain the passage have, That makes frail flesh to fear the bitterwave ; Is not short pain well borne, that brings long ease. And lays the soul to sleep in quiet grave ? Sleep after toil, port after stormy seas, Ease after war, death after life, does greatly please." XLI. Theknight much wond' red at his sudden wit. And said ; ' ' The term of life is limited, Xe may a man prolong, nor shorten, it : The soldier maynot move fromwatchful stead, Nor leave his stand until his captain bid." "Who life did Hmit by Almighty doom," Quoth he, " knows best the terms established ; And he, that 'points the sentinel his room, Doth license him depart at sound of morn- ing drum. XLII. " Is not His deed, whatever thing is done In heaven and earth ? Did not He all create To die again? All ends, that was begun : Their times in His eternal book of fate Are written sure, and have their certain date. Who then can strive with strong necessity. That holds the world in his still changing state ; Or shun the death ordain'd by destiny? When hour of death is come, let none ask whence or why. XLIII. " The longer life, I wote the greater sin ; The greater sin, the greater punishment : All those great battles, which thou boasts to win [ment, Through strife, and blood-shed, and avenge- Now praised, hereafter dear thou shalt repent : For life must life, and blood must blood repay. Is not enough thy evil life forespent ? For he that once hath missed the right way. The further he doth go, the further he doth stray. XLIV. " Then do no further go, no further stray ; But here lie down, and to thy rest betake, Th' ill to prevent, that life ensewen may. For what hath life, that may it loved make. And gives not rather cause it to forsake ? Fear, sickness, age, loss, labour, sorrow, strife, [quake ; Pain, hunger, cold that makes the heart to And ever fickle fortune rageth rife ; All which, and thousands more do make a loathsome fife. XLV. "Thou, wretched man, of death hast great- est need, If in true balance thou wilt weigh thy state ; For never knight, that dared warlike deed, CANTO IX.] THE FAERY QUEEN: 47 More luckless disadventures did amate : "Witness the dungeon deep, wherein of late Thy life shut up for death so oft did call ; And though good luck prolonged hath thy date, [stall, Yet death then would the like mishap fore- Into the which hereafter thou mayst happen fall. XLVI. " \\'"hy then dost thou, O man of sin, desire To draw thy days forth to their last degree ? Is not the measure of thy sinful hire High heaped up with huge iniquity, Against the day of wrath, to burden thee? Is not enough, that to this lady mild Thou falsed hast thy faith with perjury, And sold thyself to serve Duessa vild, Lfiled? With whom in all abuse thou hast thyself de- XL vii. " Is not He just, that all this doth behold From highest heaven, and bears an equal eye? Shall He thy sins up in His knowledge fold, And guilt)- be of thine impiety ? Is not His law, ' Let every sinner die. Die shall all flesh ? ' ^^^lat then must needs be done? Is it not better to do willingly. Then linger till the glass be all outrun? Death is the end of woes : Die soon, O Faery's son." XLVIII. The knight was much enmoved with his speech, [did pierce. That as a sword's point through his heart And in his conscience made a secret breach. Well knowing true all that he did rehearse, And to his fresh remembrance did reverse The ugly \iew of his deformed crimes ; That all his manly pow'rs it did disperse, As he were charmed with enchanted rhymes ; That oftentimes he quaked and fainted oftentimes. XLIX. In which amazement when the miscreant Perceived him to waver weak and frail, Whiles trembling horror did his conscience daunt, And hellish anguish did his soul assail ; To drive him to despair, and quite to quail. He show'd him painted in a table plain The damned ghosts, that do in torments wail, [pain And thousand fiends, that do them endless With fire and brimstone, which for ever shall remain. L. The sight whereof so throughly him dis- mny'd. That nought but death before his eyes he saw. And ever burning wrath before him laid, By righteous sentence of th' Almighty's law. Then gan the villain him to overcraw, [fire. And brought unto him swords, ropes, poison, And all that might him to perdition draw ; And bade him choose what death he would desire : [God's ire. For death was due to him, that had provoked LI. But, whenas none of them he saw him take. He to him r aught a dagger sharp and keen, And gave it him in hand : his hand did quake And tremble Hke a leaf of aspen green. And troubled blood through his pale face was seen To come and go, with tidings from the heart. As it a running messenger had been. At last, resolved to work his final smart. He lifted up his hand, that back again did start. Lir. WTiich when as Una saw, through every vein The cruddled cold ran to her well of life, As in a swoon : but, soon relieved again. Out of hishandshesnaich'd thecursed knife, And threw it to the ground, enraged rife. And to him said: "Fie, fie, faint-hearted knight, [strife, What meanest thou by this reproachful Is this the battle, which thou vaunts to fight With that fire-mouthed dragon, horrible and bright ? LIIL " Come ; come away, frail, feeble, fleshly wight, Xe let vain words bewitch thy manly heart, Xe devilish thoughts dismay thy constant spright : In heavenly mercies hast thou not a part? "Whyshouldst thou then despair, that chosen art ? [grace. Where justice grows, there grows eke greater The which doth quench the brand of hellisli smart, And that accurst hand-writing doth deface : Arise, sir knight ; arise, and leave this cursed place." LIV. So upherose, and thence amounted straight. Which when the carl beheld, and saw his guest Would safe depart, for all his siibtile sleight ; He chose an halter from among the rest, And with it hung liimself, unbid, unblest. But death he could not work himself therebv ; For thousand times he so himself had drest. Yet nathelcss it could not do him die. Till he should die his last, that is eternally. 48 [book I. CANTO X. Her faithful knight fair Una brings To house of Holiness ; Where he is taught repentance, and The \va,y to heavenly bless. What maa is he, that boasts of fleshly might And vain assurance of mortality, Which, all so soon as it doth come to fight Against spiritual foes, yields by and by, Or from the field most cowardly doth fly ! Ne let the man ascribe it to his skill, That thorough grace hath gained victory : If any strength we have, it is to ill ; But all the good is God's, both power and eke will, II. By that which lately happen'd, Una saw That this her knight was feeble, and too faint ; And all his sinews waxen weak and raw, Through long imprisonment, and hard con- straint. Which he endured in his late restraint, That yet he was unfit for bloody fight. Therefore to cherish him w ith diets daint, She cast to bring him, where he cheeren might, Till he recovered had his late decayed phght. III. There was an ancient house not far away, Renown'd throughout the world for sacred lore And pure unspotted life : so well, they say. It govern'd w'as, and guided evermore, Through wisdom ofa matron grave and hoar; Whose only joy was to relieve the needs Of \\Tetched souls, and help the helpless poor : All night she spent in bidding of her beads, And all the day in doing good and godly deeds. IV. Dame Coslia, men did her call, as thought From heaven to come, or thitlier to arise ; The mother of three daughters well up- brought In goodly thewes, and godly exercise : The eldest two, most sober, chaste, and wise, Fidelia and Speranza, virgins v/ere ; Though spoused, yet wanting wedlock's solemnize ; But fair Charissa to a iQvely fere [dear. Was linked, and by him had many pledges V. Arrived there, the door they find fast lock'd ; For it was v.arcly watched night and day, l For fear of many foes ; but when they knock'd, The porter opened unto them straightway. He w'as an aged sire, all hoary gray, [slow. With looks full lowly cast, and gate full W^ont on a staff his feeble steps to stay, Hight Humilta. They pass in, stooping low ; For straight and narrow was the way which he did show. VI. Each goodly thing is hardest to begin ; But, enter'd in, a spacious court they see. Both plain and pleasant to be w-alked in ; Where them does meet a franklin fair and free. And entertains with comely courteous glee ; His name was Zeal, that him right well be- came : For in his speeches and behaviour he Did labour lively to express the same. And gladly did them guide, till to the hall they came. VII. There fairly them receives a gentle squire. Of mild demeanour and rare courtesy. Right cleanly clad in comely sad attire ; In word and deed that show' d great modesty, And knew his good to all of each degree ; Hight Reverence : he them with speeches meet Does fair entreat ; no courting nicety, But simple, true, and eke unfeigned sweet. As might become a squire so great persons to greet. VIII. And afterwards them to his dame he leads, That aged dame, the lady of the place, Who all this while was busy at her beads ; \Vliich done, she up arose with seemly grace. And toward them full matronly did pace. Where, when that fairest Una she beheld, Whom well she knew to spring from heavenly race. Her heart with joy unwonted inly swell'd. As feeling wondrous comfort in her weaker eld: IX. And, her embracing, said ; "O happy earth. Whereon thy innocent feet do ever tread ! Most virtuous virgin, born of heavenly birth. That, to redeem tliy woeful parents' ]x\id From tyrant's rage and e\cr-d} intj dread, | CANIO X.] THE FAERY QUEEK. 49 Hast wand'red through the world now ong a day, Yet ceasest not thy weary soles to lead ; What grace hath thee now hither brought this way ? Or do thy feeble feet unweeting hither stray? X. "Strange thing it is an errant knight to see Here in this place ; or any other wight, That hither turns his steps : so few they be, That choose the narrow path, or seek the right ! [delight All keep the broad highway, and take With many rather for to go astray. And be partakers of their evil plight. Than with a few to walk the rightest way : O ! foolish men, why haste ye to your own decay? " XI. " Thyself to see, and tired limbs to rest, O matron sage," quoth she, "I hither came ; And this good kniglit his way with me ad- dress' d, [fame, Led with thy praises, and broad-blazed That up to heaven is blown." The ancient dame Him goodly greeted in her modest guise. And entertain'il them both, as best became. With all the court'sies that she could devise, Ne wanted ought to show her bounteous or wise. XII. Thus as they gan of sundry things devise, Lo ! two most goodly virgins came in place, Ylinked arm in arm in lovely wise ; [grace. With countenance demure, and modest They numb'red even steps and equal pace : Of which the eldest, that Fidelia hight. Like sunny beams threw from her crystal face [sight. That could have dazed the rash beholder's And round about her head did shine like heaven's light. XIII. She_was arrayed all in lily white, And in Kef fight hand "bore a cup of gold, With wine and water fill'd up to the height, In which a serpent did himself enfold, That horror made to all that did behold ; But she no whit did change her constant mood : And in her other hand she fast did hold A book, that was both sign'd and seal'd with blood : [understood. Wherein dark things were writ, hard to be XIV. Her younger sister, that Speranza hight, Was clad in blue, that her beseemed well ; Not all so cheerful seemed she of sight, Aswas her sister ; whether dread did dwell Or anguish in her heart, is hard to tell : Upon_Jier arm a silver anchor lay, WITefeon she leaned ever, as befell ; And ever vip to heaven, as slic did pray. Her steadfast eyes were bent, ne swerved other way. xv. They, seeing Una, towards her gan wend. Who them encounters witia like courtesy ; Many kind speeches they between them spend, And greatly joy each other for to see : Then to the knight with shamefast modesty They turn themselves, at Una's meek request, And him salute with well beseeming glee : Who fair them 'quites, as him beseemed best, And goodly gan discourse of many a noble gest. XVI. Then Una thus : ' ' But she, your sister dear. The dear Charissa, where is she become ? Or wants she health, or busy is elsewhere?" " Ah ! no," said they, "but forth she may not come ; For she of late is light'ned of her womb. And hath encreased the world with one son more. That her to see would be but troublesome." "Indeed," quoth she, " that should her trouble sore ; [evermore ! " But thank'd be God, and her encrease so XVII. Then said the aged Caelia : " Dear dame. And you, good sir, I wote that of your toil And labours long, through which ye hither came. Ye both forwearied be : therefore a while I read you rest, and to yourbow'rsrecoyle." Then called she a groom, that forth him led Into a goodly lodge, and gan despoil Of puissant arms, and laid in easy bed : His name was meek Obedience rightfully ~ . aread. XVIII. Now when their weary limbs with kindly rest. And bodies were refre^h'd with due repast. Fair Una gan Fidelia fair request, To have her knight into her schoolhouse placed, [taste, That of her heavenly learning he might And hear the wisdom of her words divine. She granted : and that knight so much agraste That she him taught celestial disciphne. And opened his dull eyes, that hght mote in them shine. XIX. And that her sacred Book, with bloody writ, That none could read except she did them teach, so THE FAERY QUEE:\'. L^OOK I. She unto him disclosed every whit ; Andheavenly docuraents thereout didpreach , That weaker wit of man could never reach ; Of God ; of Grace ; of Justice ; of PYee-will ; That wonder was to hear her goodly speech : For she was able with her words to kill, And raise again to life the heart that she did thrill. XX. And, whenshelistpouroutherlarger spright, She would command the hasty sun to stay. Or backward turn his course from heaven's height : [dismay ; Sometimes great hosts of men she could Dry-shod to pass she i^arts the floods in tway ; [seat And eke huge mountains from their native She would command themselves to bear away, And throw in raging sea with roaring threat : Almighty God her gave such pow'r and puissance great. XXI. The faithful knight now grew in little space, By hearing her, and by her sisters' lore, To such perfection of all heavenly grace, Tliat wretched world he gan for to abhor. And mortal life gan loath as thing forlore. Grieved with remembrance of his wicked ways, [sore, And prick'd with anguish of his sins so That he desired to end his wretched days : So much the dart of sinful guilt the soul dismays. XXII. But wise Speranza gave him comfort sweet, And taught him how to take assured hold Upon her silver anchor, as was meet ; Else had his sins so great and manifold Made him forget all that Fidelia told. In his distressed doubtful agony, When him his dearest Una did behold Disdaining life, desiring leave to die, She found herself assail'd with great per- plexity ; XXIII. And came to Crelia to declare her smart ; Who well acquainted with that common plight, [heart, Which sinful horror works in wounded Her wisely comforted all that she might, With goodly counsel and advisement right ; And straightway sent with careful diligence. To fetch a leech, the winch had great insight In that disease of grieved conscience. And well could cure the same ; his name was Patience- ' ~ — XXIV. Who, coming to that soul-diseasM knight, Could hardlv him intrcat to tc!l his grief; Which known, and all, that 'noy'd his heavy spright. Well search'd, eftsoones he gan apply relief Of salves and med'cines, which had passing priefe, [might ; And thereto added words of wondrous By which to ease he him recured brief, And much assuaged the passion of his plight. That he his pain endured, as seeming now more hght. XXV. But yet the cause and root of all his ill, Inward corruption and infected sin. Not purged nor heal'd, behind remained still. And fest'ring sore did rankle yet within. Close creeping twixt the marrow and the skin : Which to extirpe, he laid him privily Down in a darksome lowly place far in, W'hereas he meant his corrosives to apply And with strait diet tame his stubborn malady. XXVI. In ashes and sackcloth he did array His dainty corse, proud humours to abate ; And dieted with fasting every day, The swelling of his wounds to mitigate ; And made him pray both early and eke late : And ever, as superfluous flesh did rot, Amendment ready still at hand did wait To pluck it out with pincers fiery hot, Tjot, That soon in him was left no one corrupted XXVII. And-bitter Penance, with an iron whip, \\jis \\out him once to disple every day : And sharp Remorse his heart did prick and nip, fplay : That drops of blood tlience like a well did .\nd sad Repentance used to embay His body in salt water smarting sore. The filthy blots of sin to wash away. So in short space they did to health restore The man that would not live, but erst lay at death's door. XXVIII. In which his torment often was so great, That, like a lion, he would cry and roar ; And rend his flesh ; and his own sinews eat. His own dear Una, hearing evermore His rueful shrieks and gi-oanings, often tore Her guiltless garments and lier golden liair, For pity of his pain and anguish sore : Yet all with patience wisely she did bear ; For well she wist his crime could else be never clear. XXIX. Wliom, thus rccovcr'd by wise Patience Antl true Repeillance, they to Una brought ; Who, joyous of his cured conscience, Him dearly kiss'd, and fairly eke besought, Himself to cherish, and consuming thought CANTO X.] 51 To put away out of his careful breast. By this Cliarissa, late in child-bed brought, Was waxen strong", and left her fruitful nest : To her fair Una brought this unacquainted guest. XXX. She was a woman in her freshest age, Of wondrous beauty, and of bounty rare. With goodly grace and comely personage. That was on earth not easy to compare ; Full of great love ; but Cupid's wanton snare As hell she hated ; chaste in work and will ; Her neck and breasts were ever open bare. That ave thereof her babes might suck their fill ; The rest was all in yellow robes arrayed still. XXXI. A multitude of babes about her hung. Playing their sports, that joy'd her to behold ; Whom still she fed, whiles they were weak and young. But thrust them forth still as they waxed old ; And on her head she wore a tire of gold, Adorn'd with gems and owches wondrous fair, Whose passing price uneath was to be told : And by her side there sate a gentle pair Of turtle doves, she sitting in an ivory chair. XXXII, The knight and Una ent'ring fair her greet, And bid her joy of that her happy brood ; Who them requites with court'sics seeming meet. And entertains with cheerful friendly mood. Then Una her besought, to be so good As in her virtuous rules to school her knight, Now after all his torment well withstood In that sad house of Penance, where his spright [night. Had past the pains of hell and long-enduring XXXIII. She was right joyous of her just request ; And, taking by the hand that Faery's son, Gan him instruct in every good behest, Of love ; and righteousness ; and well to done, And wrath and hatred warily to shun. That drew on men God's hatred and His wrath, And many souls in dolours had fordonne : In which when him she well instructed hath. From thence to heaven she teacheth him the ready path. XXXIV. Wherein his weaker wand'ringsteps to guide, An ancient matron she to her does call. Whose sober looks her wisdom well descryde ; Het-uame was Mercy ; well known over all To be both gracious "3iid ekejibcral : To whom the careful charge of him she gave To lead aright, that he should never fall In all his ways through this wide worldes wave ; [might save. That mercy in the end his righteous soul XXXV. The goodly matron by the hand him bears Forth from her presence, by a narrow way, Scatt'red with bushy thorns and ragged brears. Which still before him she removed away. That nothing might his ready passage stay : And ever when his feet encumb'red were, Or gan to shrink, or fi-om the right to stray, She held him fast, and firmly did upbear ; As careful nurse her child from faUing oft does rear. XXXVI. Eftsoones unto an holy hospital, That was foreby the way, she did him bring ; In which seven bead-men, that had vowed all Their life to service of high heaven's King, Did spend their days in doing godly thing : Their gates to all were open evermore. That by the weary way were traveUing ; And one sate waiting ever them before, To call in comers-by, that needy were and poor. XXXVII. The first of them, that eldest was and best, Of all the house had charge and government, As guardian and steward of the rest : His office was to give entertainment And lodging unto all that came and went ; Not unto such as could him feast again. And double quite for that he on them spent: But such, as want of harbour did constrain ; Those for God's sake his duty was to enter- tain. XXXVIII. The second was an alm'ner of the place : His office was the hungry for to feed. And thirsty give to drink ; a work of grace : He fear'd not once himself to be in need, Ne cared to hoard for those whom he did breed : The grace of God he laid up still in store, Which as a stock he left unto his seed : He had enough ; what need him care for more ? [the poor. And had he less, yet some he would give to XXXIX. The third had of their wardrobe custody, In which were not rich tires, nor garments The plumes of pride and wings of vanity, But clothes meet to keep keen cold away. And naked nature seemly to array ; With which bare wretched wights he daily clad, E 2 52 BOOK I. The images of God in earthly clay ; And if thtit no spare clothes to give he had, His own coat he would cut, and it distribute glad. XL. The fourth appointed by his office was Poor prisoners to relieve with gracious aid, And captives to redeem with price of brass From Turks and Saracens, which them had stay'd ; [weigh'd, And though they faulty were, yet well he That God to us forgiveth every hour Much more than that w'hy they in bands were laid ; And He, that harrow'd hell with heavy stowre. The faulty souls from thence brought to His heavenly bow'r. XLI. The fifth had charge sick persons to attend. And comfort those in point of death which lay ; For them most needeth comfort in the end, When Sin, and Hell, and Death, do most dismay The feeble soul departing hence away, All is but lost, that li^^ng we bestow, If not well ended at our dying day. O man ! have mind of tliat last bitter throw ; For as the tree docs fall, so lies it ever low. XLI I. The sixth had charge of them now being dead. In seemly sort their corses to engrave. And deck w ith dainty flow'rs their bridal bed, That to their heavenly Spouse both sweet and brave [shall save. They might appear, when he their souls The wondrous workmanship of God's own mould, [gave Whose face He made all beasts to fear, and All in his hand, even dead we honour should. Ah, dearest God, me grant, I dead be not defoul'd ! y XLIIL The seventh, now after death and burial done. Had charge the tender orphans of the dead And widows aid lest they should be un- done : [plead. In face of judgment he their right would Ne ought the pow'r of mighty men did dread In their defence ; nor would for gold or fee Be won their rightful causes down to tread : And, when they stood in most necessity, He did supply their want, and gave them ever free. XLIV. There when the clfm knight arrived was, The first and cliicfest of the seven, whose care Was guests to welcome, towards him did pass; Where seeing Mercy, that his steps upbare And always led, to her w ith reverence rare He humbly louted in meek lowliness. And seemly welcome for her did prepare : For of their order she was patroness, Albe Ciiarissa were their chiefest founderess. XLV. I There she awhile him stays, himself to rest,\ That to the rest more able he might be : During which time, in every good behest, And godly work of alms and charity, She him instmcted with great industry. Shortly therein so perfect he became, That, from the first unto the last degree, His mortal life he learned had to frame In holy rigliteousness, without i^ebuke or blame. XLVI. Thence forward by tliat painful way they pass L^^'S'"' • Forth to an hill, that was both steep and On top whereof a sacred chapel was, And eke a little hermitage thereby. Wherein an aged holy man did lie. That day and night said his devotion, Xe other worldly business did apply : His name was iieavgaly Contemplation ; Of God and goodness, was his meditation. ~ XLvn. Great grace that old man to him given had ; For God he often saw from heaven's height : All were his earthly eyen both blunt and bad. And through great age had lost their kindly sight, [spright. Yet wondrous quick and persaunt was his As eagle's eye, that can behold the sun. That hill they scale with all their pow'r and might, [donne. That his frail thighs, nigh weary and for- Gan fail ; but, by her help, the top at last he won. XLVI I r. There they do find that godly aged sire, With snowy locks adown his shoulders shed ; As hoary frost with spangles doth attire The mossy branches of an oak half dead. Each bone might through his body well be read. And every sinew seen, through his long fa For nought he cared his carcass long unfc. , His mind was full of spiritual repast, .A^nd pined his flesh to keep his body low and chaste. XLIX. Who, when these two approaching he espied. At their first presence grew agrieved sore, That forced him lay his heavenly thoughts aside ; And had he not that dnme respected more. Whom highly he did reverence and adore, CANTO X.] 53 lie would not once have moved for the knight. They him saluted, standing far afore ; Who, well them greeting, humbly did requite, And asked, to what end they clomb that tedious height ? L. "What end," quoth she, " should cause us take such pain, But that same end, which every living wight Should make his mark — high heaven to at- tain ? Is not from hence the way, that leadeth right To that most glorious house, that glist'reth bright With burning stars and everliving fire. Whereof the keys are to thy hand behight By wise Fidelia? She doth thee require, To shew it to this knight, according his desire." LI. " Thrice happy man," said then the father grave, [doth lead, ' ' Whose staggering steps thy steady hand And shows the way his sinful soul to save ! Who better can the way to heaven aread Than thou thyself, that was both bojn and bred [shine ? In heavenly throne, where thousand angels Thou dost the prayers of the righteous seed Present before the Majesty Divine, [cline. And His avenging wrath to clemency in- LII. "Yet, since thou bidst, thy pleasure shall be done. [way, Then come, thou man of earth, and see the That never yet was seen of Faeries' son ; That never leads the traveller astray. But, after labours long and sad delay. Brings them to joyous rest and endless bliss. Buft first thou must a season fast and pray, Tilrfrom her bands the spright assoiled is. And have her strength recured from frail infirmities." LIII. That done, he leads him to the highest mount ; Such one, as that same mighty man of God, That blood-red billows like a walled front On either side disparted with his rod. Till that his army dry-foot through them yod. Dwelt forty days upon ; where, writ in stone With bloody letters by the hand of God, The bitter doom of death and baleful moan He did receive, whiles flashing fire about him shone : LIV. Or like that sacred hill, whose head full high, Adorn' d with fruitful olives all around, Is, as it were for endless memory [found. Of that dear Lord who oft thereon was For ever with a flow'ring garland crown'd ; Or like that pleasant mount, that is for aye Through famous poets' verse each where renown'd, Onwhichthe thrice three learned ladies ' play Their heavenly notes, and make full many a lovely lay. LV. From thence, far off he unto him did shew A little path, that was both steep and long, Which to a goodly city led his view. Whose walls and tow'rs were builded high and strong [tongue Of pearl and precious stone, that earthly Cannot describe, nor wit of man can tell ; Too high a ditty for my simple song ! The city of the Great King hight it well.f Wlierein eternal peace and happiness doth dwell. LVI. As he thereon stood gazing, he might see The blessed Angels to and fro descend From highest heaven in gladsome company, And with great joy into that city wend, As commonly as friend does with his friend. W' hereat he wond'red much, and gan enquire, What stately building durst so high extend Her lofty tow'rs unto the starry sphere. And what unknowen nation there empeopled were, LVir. ' ' Fair knight, " quoth he, ' 'Jerusalem that is. The New Jerusalem, that God has built For those to dwell in, that are chosen His, His chosen people purged from sinful guilt With precious blood, which cruelly was spilt On cursed tree, of that unspotted Lamb, That for the sins of all the world was kilt : Now are they saints all in that city same. More dear unto their God than younglings to their dam." LViir. ' ' Till now, " said then the knight, ' ' I weened well, That great Cleopolis where I have been, In which that fairest Faery Queen doth dwell. The fairest city was that might be seen ; And that bright tow'r, all built of crystal clean . Panthea, seem'd the brightest thing that was: But now by proof all otherwise I ween ; For this great city that does far surpass. And this bright Angel's tow'r quite dims that tow'r of glass." LIX. " Most true," then said the holy aged man ; "Yet is Cleopolis, for earthly frame. The fairest piece that eye beholden can ; And well beseems all knights of noble name, * The INIuses. + It is well called 54 777^ FAERY QUEEN. [book I. That covet in th' immortal book of fame To be eternized, that same to haunt, And do their service to that sovereign dame,* That glory does to them for guerdon grant : For she is heavenly born, and heaven may justly vaunt. LX. "And thou, fair Imp.f sprung out from English race, However now accounted Elfin's son, Well worthy dost thy service for her grace, To aid a virgin desolate fordonne. But when thou famous victory hast won, And high amongst all knights hast hung thy shield, [shun. Thenceforth the suit of earthly conquest And wash thy hands from guilt of bloody field : For blood can nought but sin, and wars but sorrows yield. LXI. "Then seek this path that I to thee presage, Which after all to heaven shall thee send ; Then peaceably thy painful pilgrimage To yonder same Jerusalem do bend. Where is for thee ordain'd a blessed end : For thou amongst those saints, whom thou dost see Shalt be a saint, and thine own nation's friend And patron : thou Saint George shalt called be, [victory." Saint George of merry England, the sign of LXir. "Unworthy wretch," quoth he, "of so great grace. How dare I think such glory to attain ! " "These, that have it attain'd, were in like case," [pain." Quoth he, "as wretched, and lived in like " But deeds of arms must I at last be fain And ladies' love to leave, so dearly bought? " ' ' What need of arms, where peace doth aye remain. Said he, "and battles none are to be fought? As for loose loves, they're vain, and vanish into nought." LXIII. "Olet me not," quoth he, "then turn again Back to the world, whose joys so fruitless are; But let me here for aye in peace remain. Or straightway on that last long voyage fare. That nothing may my present hope impair. " " That may not be," said he, "nemaystthou Forego that royal maid s bequeathed care, Who did her cause into thy hand commit. Till from her cursed foe thou have her freely quit." * Elirabeth. t An Imp mecins a shoot ^ or sucken and is used for "son." LXIV. "Then shall I soon," quoth he, "so God me grace. Abet that virgin's cause disconsolate. And shortly back return unto this place. To walk this way in pilgrim's poor estate. But now aread, old father, why of late Didst thoubehight me born of English blood. Whom all a Faery's son do nominate? " "That word shall I," said he, " avounchcn good, [brood. Sith to thee is unknown the cradle of thy LXV. " For well I wote thou springst from ancient race Of Saxon kings, that have with mighty hand. And many bloody battles fought in place, High rear'd their royal throne in Britain land, And vanquish'd them, unable to withstand : From thence a Faery thee unweeting reft. There as thou slepst in tender sw"addling band. And her base Elfin brood there for thee left: Such, men do changelings call, so changed by Faery's theft. LXVI. "Thence she thee brought into this Faery lond. And in an heaped furrow did thee hide ; Where thee a ploughman all unweeting fond, As he his toilsome team that way did guide. And brought thee up in ploughman's state to bide, Whereof Georgos * he thee gave to name ; Till prick'd with courage, and thy force's pride, [fame. To Faery court thou cam'st to seek for And prove thy puissant arms, as seems thee best became." LXVII, " O holy sire," quoth he, "how shall I 'quite The many favours I with thee have found, That hast my name and nation read aright. And taught the way that does to heaven bound ! " This said, adown he looked to the ground To have return'd, but dazed were his eyne Through passing brightness, which did quite confound His feeble sense, and too ex'ceeding shine. So dark are earthly things compared to thinfrs divine ! I * The name George, in Greek, mecvr-S ^ husbandman. CANTO XI.] 55 Lxviir, At last, whenas himself he gan to find, To Una back he cast him to retire ; Who him awaited still with pensive mind. Great thanks, and goodly meed, to that good sire He thence departing gave for his. pains' hire. So came to Una, who him joy'd to see ; And, after little rest, gnn him desire Of her adventure mindful for to be. So leave they take of Crclia and her daufih- ters three: ' CANTO XL The.knight with th.-\t old dragon fights Two days incessantly : The third, him overthrows ; and gains Most glorious victorj-. High time now gan it wax for Una fair To think of those her captive parents dear. And their forwastcd kingdom to repair : W^hereto whenas they now approached near, With hearty words her knight she gan to cheer, And in her modest manner thus bespake : " Dear knight, as dear as ever knight was dear. That all these sorrows suffer for my sake, High heaven behold the tedious toil, ye for me take ! II. " Now are we come unto my native soil, And to the place where all our perils dwell ; Here haunts that fiend, and does his daily spoil ; Therefore henceforth beat your keeping well. And ever ready for your foeman fell : The spark of noble courage now awake, And strive your excellent self to excel : That shall ye evermore renowned make Above all knights on earth, that battle undertake." Ill, And pointing forth, " Lo ! yonder is," said she, [dear "The brazen tow'r, in which my parents For dread of that huge fiend imprison'd be ; Whom I from far see on the walls appear. Whose sight my feeble soul doth greatly cheer ; And on the top of all I do espy The watchman waiting tidings glad to hear. That, O my parents, might I happily Unto you bring, to ease you of your misery !" IV. With that they heard a roaring hideous sound. That all the air with terror filled wide, And seem'd uneath to shake the steadfast ground. EftsQones that dreadf..] dragon they espied, Where stretch'd he lay upon the sunny side Of a great hill, himself like a great hill : But, all so soon as he from far descried Those glist'ring arms that heaven v.ith hght did fill, He roused himself full blithe, and hast'ned them until. V. Then bade the knight his lady 3'ede aloof, And to an hill herself withdraw aside : From whence she might behold that battle's proof. And eke be safe from danger far descried : She him obey'd, and turn'd a little wide. — Now, O thou sacred Aluse, most learned dame, Fair Imp of Phoebus and his aged bride, The nurse of time and everlasting fame, That warlike hands ennoblest with immortal name ; VI. O, gently come into my feeble breast. Come gently ; but not w ith that mighty rage, Wherewith the martial troups thou dost infest. And hearts of great heroes dost enrage. That nought their kindled courage may assuage : Soon as thy dreadful trump begins to sound. The god of war with his fierce equipage Thou dost awake, sleep never he so sound ; And scared nations dost with horror stern astound, vir. Fair goddess, lay that furious fit aside. Till 1 of wars and bloody Alars do sing. And Briton fields with Saracen blood bedycd, Twixt that great Faery Queen, and Paynim king, [ring ; That with their horror heaven and earth did A work of labour long and endless praise : But now a while let down that haughty string And to my tunes thy second tenor raise. That I this man of God his godly arms may blaze, r6 [book I. VI II. By this, the dreadful beast drew nigh to hand, Half flying and hnlf footing in his haste, That with his largeness measured much land. And made wide shadow under his huge waste ; As mountain doth the valley overcast. Approaching nigh, he reared high afore His body monstrous, horrible, and vast ; Which, to increase his \\ondrous greatness more, Was swoll'n with wrath and poison, and with bloody gore ; IX. And over all with brazen scales was arm'd, Like plated coat of steel, so couched near That nought mote pierce ; ne might his corse be harm'd [spear : With dint of sword, nor push of pointed Which, as an eagle, seeing prey appear, His aery plumes doth rouse full rudely dight; So shaked he, that horror was to hear : For, as the clashing of an armour bright. Such noise his roused scales did send unto the knight. X. His flaggy wings, when forth he did display, W^ere like two sails, in which the hollow wind Is gather'd full, and worketh speedy way: And eke the pens, that did his pinions bind, Were like main-yards with flying canvas lined ; With which whenas him lift the air to beat. And there by force unwonted passage find. The clouds before him fled for terror great, And all the heavens stood still amazed with his threat. XI. His huge long tail, wound up in hundred folds, Docs overspread his long brass-scaly back, Whose wreathed boughts whenever he un- folds. And thick-entangled knots adown does slack, Bespotted as with shields of red and black, It sweepeth all the land beliind him far. And of three furlongs does but little lack ; And at the point two stings infixed are. Both deadly sliarp, that sharpest steel ex- ceeden far. XII. But stings and sharpest steel did far exceed The sharpness of his cruel rending claws : Dead was it sure, as sure as death indeed. Whatever thing does touch his ravenous paws. Or what within his reach he ever draws. But his most hideous head my tongue to tell Does tremble ; for his deep devouring jaws Wide gaped, like the grisly mouth of hell. Through which into his dark abyss all ravin fell XIII. And, that more wondrous was, in either jaw Three ranks of iron teeth enranged were. In which yet trickling blood, and gobbets raw, Of late devoured bodies did appear ; That sight thereof bred cold congealed fear : Which to increase, and all at once to kill, j A cloud of smothering smoke, and sulphur I sear, ! Out of his stinking gorge forth steamed still, ; That all the air about with smoke and stench i did fill. i XIV. His blazing eyes, like two bright shining : shields, ' Did burn with wralii, and sparkled living fire: As two broad beacons, set in open fields, Send forth their flames far off" to every shire. And \\-arning give, that enemies conspire I With fire and sword the region to invade ; j So flamed his eynewith rage and rancorous ! ire : j But far within, as in a hollow glade, j Those glaring lamps were set, that made a I dreadful shade. i XV. ! So dreadfully he towards him did pass, ; Forelifting up aloft his speckled breast, : And often bounding on the bruised grass, ! As for great joyaunce of his new come guest. j Eftsoones he gan advance his haughty crest ; j As chafed boar his bristles doth uprear ; I And shook his scales to battle ready drest, ! (That made the Redcross knight nigh quake j for fear, ) ! As bidding bold defiance to his foeman near. I I The knight gan fairly couch his steady spear, j And fiercely ran at him with rigorous might: The pointed steel arriving ruddy there. His harder hide would neither pierce nor bite. But, glancing by, forth passed forward right: Yet, sore amoved with <;o puissant i^"sh. The wrathrui oeast aoout him turned light, And him so rudely, passing by, did brush With his long tail, that horse and man to ground did rush. XVII. Both horse and man up lightly rose again. And fresh encounter towards him addrest ; But th' idle stroke yet back recoil'd in vain, And found no place his deadly point to rest. Exceeding rage enflamed the furious beast. To be avenged of so great despite ; For never felt his impierceable breast So wondrous force from hand of living wight : Yet had he proved the pow'r of many Oj puissant knisjht. CANTO XI.] 57 XVIII. Then, with .lis waving wings displayed wide, Himself up high he lifted from the ground, And with strong flight did forcibly divide 'I'hc yielding air, which nigh too feeble found Her flitting parts, and element unsound, To bear so great a weight : He, cutting way With hisbroad sails, about him soared round; At last, low stooping with unwieldly sway, Snatch'd up both horse and man, to bear them quite aw ay. XIX. Long he them bore above the subject plain, So far as yewen bow .a sliaft may send ; Till struggling strong did him at last constrain To let them down before his flightes end : As haggard hawk, presuming to contend With hardy fowl above his able might. His weary pounces all in vain doth spend To truss the prey too heavy for his flight ; ^^'hich coming down to ground, does free itself by fight. XX. He so disseized of his gripping gross. The knight his thrillant spear again assay'd In his brass-plated body to embosse, And three men's strength imto the stroke he laid ; Wherewith the stiff beam quaked, as afraid. And glancing from his scaly neck did glide Close under his left wing, then broad dis- play'd : [full wide, The piercing steel there wrought a wound That with the uncouth smart the monster j loudly cried. XX r. He cried, as raging seas are wont to roar, When wintry storm his wrathful wreck does threat ; The rolling billows beat the ragged shore. As they the earth would shoulder from her seat ; And greedy gulf does gape, as he would eat His neighbour clement in his revenge : Then gin the blust'ring brethren boldly threat [henge. To move the world from off his steadfast And bois'trous battle make, each other to avenge. XXII. The steely head stuck fast still in his flesh, Till with his cruel claws he snatch'd the wood, And quite asunder broke : forth flowed fresh A gushing river of black gory blood, That drowned all the land, whereon he stood ; [mill : The stream thereof would drive a water- Trebly augmented was his furious mood With bitter sense of liis deep-rooted ill, That flames of fire he threw forth from his large nostril. XXIII. His hideous tail tlicn liiuled he about. And therewith all enwrapt tlie nimble thighs Of his froth-foamy steed, whose courage stout Striving to loose the knot that fast him ties. Himself in str.iiter bands too rash implves, That to the ground he is perforce constrain'd To throw his rider ; who can quickly rise From off the earth, with dirty blood dis- tain'd, [disdain'd ; For that reproachful fall right foully he XXIV. And fiercely took his trenchant blade in hand. With which he struck so furious and so fell, That nothing seem'd the ]Hiissancc could withstand Upon his crest the hard'ned iron fell ; But his morehard'ned crest was arm'd so well. That deeper dint therein it would not make ; Yet so extremely did the buff him quell. That from thenceforth he shnnn'd the like to take, [still forsake. But, when he saw them come, he did them XXV. The knight was wroth to sec his stroke be- guiled, [might ; And smote again with more outrageous But back again the sparkling steel rccoil'd. And left not any mark where it did light. As if in adamant rock it had been pight. The beast, impatient of his smarting wound. And of so fierce and forcible despite. Thought with his wings to sty above the ground ; [found. But his late wounded wing unserviceable XXVI. Then, full of grief and anguish vehement. He loudly bray'd, that like was never heard: And from his wide devouring oven sent A flake of fire, that, flashing in his beard. Him all amazed, and almost made afeard : The scorching flame sore singed all his fice. And through his armour all his body scar'd. That he could not endure so cruel case. But thought his arms to leave, and helmet to unlace. xxvir. Not that great champion of the antique world. Whom famous poets' verse so much doth vaunt, [toll'd. And hath for twelve huge labours high ex- vSo many furies and sharp fits did haunt. When him the pcison'd garment did enchant. With Centaur's blood and bloody verses charm'd ; [daunt. As did this knight twelve thousa,ud dolours 5^ [book I. Whom fiery steel now burnt, that erst him arm'd ; [him harm'd. That erst him goodly arm'd, now most of all XXVIII. Faint, wean,', sore, enlboyled, grieved, brent, With heat, toil, wounds, arms, smart, and inward fire. That never man such mischiefs did torment ; Death better were ; deajh did he oft desire ; But death will never come, when needs require. Wliom so dismay'd when that his foe beheld. He cast to suffer him no more respire. But gan his sturdy stern about to weld, And him so strongly stroke, that to the ground him fell'd. XXIX. It fortuned, (as fair it then befell, ) Behind his back, unweeting where he stood, Of ancient time there was a springing well, From which fast trickled forth a silver flood, Full of great virtues, and for med'cine good : Whylome, before that cursed dragon got That happy land, and all with innocent blood Defiled those sacred waves, it rightly hot The Well of Life ; ne yet his virtues had forgot : XXX. For unto life the dead it could restore, And guilt of sinful crimes clean wash away; Those, that with sickness were infected sore. It could recure ; and aged long decay Renew, as one were born that very day. Both Silo this, and Jordan, did excel. And th' Enghsh Bath, and eke the German Spa ; Ne can Cep?iise, nor Hebrus, match this well : Into the same the knight back overthrowen fell. XXXI. Now gan the golden Phoebus for to steep His fiery face in billows of the west, And his faint steeds wat'red in ocean deep, Whiles from their journal labours they did rest; When that infernal monster, having kest His weary foe into that living well. Can high advance his broad discolour'd breast [fell, Above his wonted pitch, with countenance And clapt his iron \\ings, as victor he did dwell. XXXII. Which when his pensive lady saw from far. Great woe and son-ow did her soul assay, As weening that the sad end of the war ; And gan to highest God entirely pray That feared chance from her to turn away ; With folded hc^ndSj and knees full lowly bent, All night she watch' d ; ne once adown would lay Her dainty limbs in her sad dreriment. But praying still did \\ake, and waking 6.\' note her loud salutes the moun- tain lark. LII. Then freshly up arose the doughty knight, AllTTealedofliisTiurts and ^\•ounGles wide. And did himself to battle ready dight ; Whose early foe awaiting him beside To have devour'd, so soon as day he spied, When now he saw himself so freshly rear, As if late fight had nought him damnified, He woxe dism.ay'd, and gan his fate to fear ; Nathless with wonted rage he him ad- vanced near ; LIII. And in his first encounter, gaping wide. He thought at once him to have s^\'allow'd quite. And rush'dupon him with outrageous pride ; Who him rencoiint'ring fierce as hawk in flight. Perforce rebutted back : the weapon bright, Taking advantage of his open jaw. Ran through his mouth with so imp6rtune might, [maw That deep empierced his darksome hollow And, back retired, his life blood forth withal did draw. LIV. So down he fell, and forth his life did breathe, That vanish'd into smoke and cloudes swift ; So down he fell, that th' earth him underneath Did groan, as feeble so great load to lift ; So down he fell, as an huge rocky clift, Whose false foundation waves have wash'd away, [rift, With dreadful poise is from the mainland And rolling down, great Neptune doth dis- may : [tain lay. So down he fell, and like an heaped moun- LV. The knight himself even trembled at his fall. So huge and horrible a mass it seem'd ; And his dear lady, that beheld it all, Durst not approach for dread which she mis- deem 'd ; But yet at last, whenas the direful fiend She saw not stir, off-shaJcing vain affright She nigher drew, and saw that joyous end : Then God she praised, andthank'd her faith- ful knight, [his might. That had achieved so great a conquest by CANTO XII.] 6l CANTO XII. Fair Una to the Redcross knight Bt^trothed is •vvith jo}' : Though false Duessa, it to bar, Her false sleights do employ. Behold I see the haven nigh at hand, To which I mean my weary course to bend ; Veer the main sheet, and bear up with tlic land. The which afore is fairly to be kenn'd, And seemeth safe from storms that may offend : There this fair virgin weary of her way Must landed be, now at her journey's end ; There eke my feeble bark a while may stay, Till merry wind and weather call her hence away. 11. Scarcely had Pho?bus in the glooming east Yet harnessed his fiery- footed team, Ne rear'd above the earth his flaming crest ; When the last deadly smoke aloft did steam, That sign of last outbreathed life did seeni Unto the watchman on the castle-wall, Who therebydead that baleful beast did deem, And to his lord and lady loud gan call. To tell how he had seen the dragon's fatal fall. III. Uprose with hasty joy, and feeble speed. That aged sire, the lord of all that land. And looked forth, to weet if trvte indeed Those tidings were, as he did tinderstand : Which whenas true by trial he out-found, He bade to o]5cn wide his brazen gate, Which long time had been shut, and out of hand [state ; Proclaimed joy and peace through all his Fot-dead now was their foe, which them forrayed late.' "'"' IV. Then gan triumphant trumpets sound on high. That sent to heaven the echoed report Of tlieir new joy, and happy victory [tort, Gainst him, that had them long opprestwith And fast imprisoned in sieged fort. Then all the people, as in solemn feast. To him assembled with one full consort, Rejoicing at the fall of tliat great beast. From whose eternal bondage now they were released. V. Forth came that ancient lord, and aged queen, Array'dindntique robes down to the ground, And sad hal)iliments right wtll beseen : A noble crew about them waited round Of sage and sober peers, all gravely gown'd ; Whom far before did march a goodly band Of tall young men, all able arms to sound. But now they laurel branches bore in hand ; Glad sign of victory and peace in all their land. VI. Unto that doughty conqueror they came. And, him before themselves prostrating low, Theirlord and patron loud did him proclaim, And at his feet their laurel boughs did throw. Soon after them, all dancing on a row. The comely virgins came, with garlands dight, [grow, As fresh as flow'rs in meadow green do When morning dew upon their leaves doth light ; [on height. And in their hands sweet timbrels all upheld VII. And, them before, the fry of children young Their wanton sports and childish mirth did play, [sung And to the maidens' sounding timbrels' In well attuned notes a joyous lay. And made delightful music all tlic wav, Until they came, where that fair Virgin stood : As fair Diana in fresh summer's day Beholds her nymphs enranged in shady wood, [crystal flood : Some wrestle, some do run, some bathe in VIII. So she beheld those maidens' merriment With cheerful view ; who, when to her they came, [blesse bent. Themselves to ground with gracious hum- And her adored by honourable name. Lifting to heaven her everlasting fame : Then on her head they set a garland green, And crowned her twixt earnest and twixt game : ^Mlo, in her self-resemblance well beseen. Did seem, such as she was, a goodly maiden queen. IX. And after all tlic lascal manv ran. Heaped together in rude rablement. To see the face of that victorious man. Whom all admired as from heaven sent, And gazed upon with gaping wonderment. 62 [book I. But when they came where that dead dragon lay, [extent, Stretch'd on the ground in monstrous large The sight with idle fear did them dismay, Xe durst approach him nigh, to touch, or once assay. X. Some fear'd, and fled ; some fear'd, and well it feign'd : [rest. One, that would wiser seem than all the W'arn'd him not touch, for yet perhaps re- main'd Some ling'ring life within his hollow breast, Or in his womb might lurk some hidden nest Of many dragonettes, his friiitful seed ; Another said, that in his eyes did rest Yet sparkling fire, and bade thereof take heed ; [indeed. Another said, he saw him move his eyes XI. One mother, whenas her foolhardy child Did come too near, and with his talons pkiy. Half dead through fear, her little babe reviled. And to her gossips gan in counsel say ; " How can \ tell, but that his talons may Yet scratchmyson, or rend his tender hand?" So diversely themselves in vain they fray ; Whiles some more bold to measure him nigh stand, [Ictnd. To prove how many acres he did spread of xir. Thus flocked all tlie folk him round about ; The whiles that Iioary king, with all his train. Being arrived wlierc that champion stout After his foe's defeasaunce did remain, Him goodly greets, and fair does entertain With princely gifts of ivory and gold, And thousand thanks him yields, for all his pain. [hold. Then when his daughter dear he does be- Her dearly doth embrace, and kisseth manifold. XIII. And after to his palace he them brings, With shawms, and trumpets, and with clarions sweet ; And all the way the joyous people sings. And with their garments strows the paved street ; [meet Whence mounting up, they find purveyance Of all, that royal prince's court became ; And all the floor was underneath their feet Bespread with costly scarlet of great name. On which they lowly sit, and fitting purpose frame. XIV. What needs me tell their feast and goodly guise, In which was notliing riotous nor vain ? What needs of dainty dishes to devise, Of comely services, or courtly train. My narrow leaves cannot in them contain Tlie large discourse of royal princes' state. Yet was their manner then but bare and plain ; [hate. For th' antique world excess and pride did Such proud luxurious pomp is swollen up but late. XV. Then, when with meats and drinks of every kind Their fervent appetite they quenched had, That ancient lord gan fit occasion find. Of strange adventures, and of perils sad W'hich in his travel him befallen had, For to demand of his renowned guest : Who then witli utt'rance grave, and count'- nance sad. From point to point, as is before exprest, Discoursed his voyage long, according his request. XVI. Great pleasure, mix'd with pitiful regard, That godly king and queen did passionate, Whiles they his pitiful adventures heard ; That oft they did lament his luckless state, And often blame the too importune fate That heap'd on him so many wrathful wreaks ; (For never gentle knight, as he of late, So tossed was in fortune's cruel freaks ; ) And all the while salt tears bedew'd the hearers' cheeks. XVII. Then said that royal peer in sober wise ; ' ' Dear son , great been tlie evils which ye bore From first to last in your late enterprize. That I no'te whether praise or pity more : For never living man, I ween, so sore In sea of deadly dangers was distress'd : But since now safe ye seized have the shore. And well arrived are (high God be blest ! ) Let us devise of ease and everlasting rest." XVIII. "Ah, dearest lord," said then that doughty knight, " Of ease or rest I may not yet devise ; For by the faith, which I to arms have plight, I bounden am straight after this emprize, .\s that your daughter can ye well advise, Back to return to that great Faery Queen, And her to serve six years in warlike wise, Gainst that proud Paynim king that works her teene ; [have been." Tlierefore I ought crave pardon, till I there XIX. " Unhappy falls that hard necessity," Quoth he, ' ' the troubler of my happy peace And vowed foe oC my felicity ; CANtO XII.] THE FAERY QUEEK ^3 Ne I against the same can justly preace. But since that band ye cannot now release, Nor done undo, (for vows may not be vain,) Scon as the term of those six years shall cease. Ye then shall hither back return again, The marriage to accomplish vow'd betwixt you twain : XX. " Which, for my part, I covet to perform, In sort as through the world I did proclaim, That whoso kill'd that monster most deform. And him in hardy battle overcame, Should have mine only daughter to his dame, And of my kingdom heir-apparent be : Therefore since now to thee pertains the same, By due desert of noble chivalr^^ Both daughter and eke kingdom lo ! I yield to thee." XXI. Then forth he called that his daughter fair, The fairest Un', his only daughter dear, His only daughter and his only heir ; Who forth proceeding with sad sober cheer. As bright as doth the morning star appear Out of the east, with flaming locks bedight, To tell that dawning day is drawing near. And to the world does bring long-wished light : [in sight : So fair and fresh that lady show'd herself XXII. "ji;^ So fair and fresh, as freshest flower in May ; For she had laid her mournful stole aside, And widow-like sad wimple thrown away. Wherewith her heavenly beauty she did hide. Whiles on her weary journey she did ride ; And on her now a garment she did wear All lily white, withoutten spot or pride. That seem'd like silk and silver woven near ; But neither silk nor silver therein did appear. XXIII. The blazing brightness of her beauty's beam, And glorious light of her sunshiny face, To tell, were as to strive against the stream : My ragged rhymes are all too rude and base Her heavenly lineaments for to enchase. Ne wonder ; for her own dear loved knight, All were she daily* with himself in place, Did wonder much at her celestial sight : Oft had he seen her fair, but never so fair dight. XXIV. So fairly dight when she in presence came, She to her sire made humble reverence, And bowed low, that her right well became. And added grace unto her excellence : Who with great ^^•isdom and grave eloquence Thus gan to say — But, ere he thus had said. With flying speed, and seeming great pretence, * Alt'i^oii'^Vi she were.— CiUKCii, Camejunning in, much like a man dismay'd, A messenger with letters, which his message said. XXV. All in the open hall amazed stood At suddenness of that unwary sight, Andwond'red at his breathless hasty mood: But he for nought would stay his passage right, Till fast before the king he did alight ; Where falling flat great humblesse he did make, [pight ; And kiss'd the ground whereon his foot was Then to his hands that writ he did betake. Which he disclosing, read thus as the paper spake : XXVI. "To thee, most mighty king of Eden fair, Her greeting sends in these sad lines addrest The woful daughter and forsaken heir Of that great emperor of all the west ; And bids thee be advised for the best, Ere thou thy daughter link in holy band Of wedlock, to that new unknowen guest : For he already plighted his right hand Unto another love, and to another land. XXVII. "To me sad maid, or rather widow sad, j He was affianced long time before. And sacred pledges he both gave, and had, \ I-'alse errant knight, infamous, and forswore ! ! Witness the burning altars, which he swore, i And guilty heavens of his bold perjury ; i Which though he hath polluted oft of yore, i Yet I to them for judgment just do fly. And them conjure t' avenge this shameful injury ! XXVIII. ' ' Therefore since mine he is, or free or bond, Or false or true, or living or else dead. Withhold, O sovereign prince, your hasty hond From knitting league \vith him, I you aread ; Ne ween my right with strength adown to tread. Through v.eakness of mywidowhood orwoe; For Truth is strong her rightful cause to plead. And shall find friends, if need requireth so. So bids thee well to^fare,- thy neither friend nor foe, Fidcssa." XXIX. Vv'hen he these bitter biting words had read, The tidings strange did him abashed make, That still he sate long time astonished, As in great muse, ne word to creature spake. At last his solemn silence thus he brake, With doubtful eyes fast fixed on his guest : " Redoubted knight, that for mine crJv sake 64 [book I. Thy life and honour late adventurest ; Let nougln be hid from me, that ought to be exprest. XXX. "What mean these bloody vows and idle threats, Thrown out from womanish impatient mind? What heavens ? what altars ? what enraged heats, Here heaped up with terms of love unkind, My conscience clear with guiltv bands would bind ? High God be witness, that I guiltless am ! But if yourself, sir knight, ye faulty find, Or wrapped be in loves of former dame. With crime do not it cover, but disclose the same. " XXXI. To whom the Redcross knight this answer sent ; [dismay'd, "My lord, my king; be nought hereat Till well ye wote by grave intendiment. What woman, and wherefore, doth me upbraid With breach of love and loyalty betray'd. It was in my mishaps, as hitherward I lately travell'd, that unawares I stray'd Out of my way, through perils strange and hard ; [declared. That day should fail me ere I had them all XXXII. ' ' There did I find, or rather I was found Of this false woman that Fidessa higlit, Fidessa hight the falsest dame on ground. Most false Duessa, royal richly dight. That easy was t' inveigle weaker sight ; Who by her wicked arts and wWy skill. Too false and strong for earthly skill or migh t , Unawares me wrought unto her wicked will, And to my foe betray'd, when least I feared iU." XXXIII. Then steppeth forth the goodly royal maid, And, on the ground herself prostrating low, With sober countenance thus to him said : " O pardon me, my sovereign lord, to show The secret treasons, which of late I know To have been wrought by that false sorceress: She, only she, it is, that erst did throw This gentle knight into so great distress. That death him did await in daily wretched- ness. XXXIV. " And now it seems, that she suborned halh This crafty messenger with letters vain. To work new woe and unprovided scath. By breaking of the band betwixt us twain ; Wherein she used hath the practicke pain Of this false footman, cloak'd with simplc- ness, Whom if ye please for to discover plain. Ye shall hira Archimago find, I guess. The falsest man alive ; who tries, shall fiind no less." XXXV. The king was greatly moved at her speech And, all with sudden indignation fraight. Bade on that messenger rude hands to reach. Eftsoones the guard, which on his state did wait, [strait : Attach'd that faytor false, and bound him Who seeming sorely chafed at his band, As chained bear whom cruel dogs do bait. With idle force did feign them to withstand ; And often semblance made to scape out of their hand. XXXVI. But they him laid full low in dungeon deep. And bound him hand and foot with iron chains : And with continual watch did warely keep. Who then would think, that by his subtle traines He could escape foul death or deadly pains ? Thus, when that prince's wrath was pacified, He gan renew the late forbidden bains. And to the knight his daughter dear he tied With sacred rites and vows for ever to abide. XXXVII. His own two hands the holy knots did knit, That none but death for ever can divide ; His own two hands, for such a turn most fit. The housling fire did kindle and provide, And holy water thereon sprinkled v.ide ; At which the bushy teade a groom did light, .Vnd sacred lamp in secret chamber hide. Where it should not be quenched day nor night, For fear of e\nl fates, but burnen ever bright. XXXVIII. Then gan they sprinkle all the posts \\ ith wine. And made great feast to solemnize that day : They all perfumed with frankincense divine, And precious odours fetch'd from far away, That all the house did sweat with great array : And all the while sweet music did apply Her curious skill the warbling notes to play, To drive away the dull melancholy ; The whiles one sung a song of love and jollity. XXXIX. During thewhich there was an heavenly noise Heard sound through all the palace plea- santly, Like as it had been many an angel's voice Singing before th' Eternal Majesty, In their trinal triplicities on high : [sweet Yet wist no creature whence that heavenly CANTO XII.] THE FAERY QUEEN'. Proceeded, yet each one felt secretly Himself thereby reft of his senses meet, And ravished with rare impression in his spright. XL. Great joy was made that day of young and old, [land, And solemn feast proclaim'd throughout the That their exceeding mirth may not be told: Suffice it here by signs to understand The usual joys at knitting of love's band. Thrice happy man the knight himself did hold, Possessed of his lady's heart and hand ; And ever, when his eye did her behold. His heart did seem to melt in pleasures mani- fold. XLI. Her joyous presence, and sweet company, In full content he there did long enjoy ; Ne wicked envy, ne vile jcalouiv, His dear delights were able to annoy : Yet, swinmiing in that sea of blissful jov, He nought forgot how he whylome had sworn, [stroy, In case he could that monstrous beast de- Unto his Faery Queen back to return ; TlTe~vvTiiclT he snoftry^did ; and U"na left to mourn. XLII. Now, strike your sails, ye jolly mariners, For we be come unto a quiet road, Where we must land some of our passengers. And light this weary vessel of her load. Here she a while may make her safe abode. Till she repaired have her tackles spent, And wants supplied ; and then again abroad On the long voyage whereto she is bent : ^^'ell may she speed, and fairly finish her intent. 66 THE FAERY QUE EM, [nooK II. BOOK II. Right well I wotc, most mighty sovereign, That all this famous antique history Of some til' abundance of an idle brain AVill judged be, and painted forgery. Rather than matter of just memory ; Sith none thatbreatheth living air doth know Where is that happy land of Faery, [show ; Which I so much do vaunt, yet nowhere But vouch antiquities, which nobody can know. II. But let that man with l^etter sense advise, That of the world least part to us is read ; And daily how through hardy cnter|5>rize Many great regions are discovered. Which to late age were never mentioned, Who ever heard of th' Indian Peru? Or who in venturous vessel measured The Amazon huge river, now found true? Or fruitfullest Virginia who did ever view? III. Yet all these were, when no man did them know, Yet have from wisest ageshiddcn been ; [show And later times things more unknown shall VVhy then should witless man so much mis- ween. That nothing is, but that which he hath seen ? What, if within the moon's fair shirving sphere, \Miat, if in every other star unseen Of other worlds he happily should hear? He wonder would much more ; yet such to some appear. IV. Of Faery land yet if he more inquire, By certain signs, here set in sundry place, He may it find ; ne let him then admire, But yield his sense to be too blunt and base, That no'te without an hound fine footing trace. And thou, O fairest princess under sky, In this fair mirror mayst behold thy face, And thine own realms in land of Faery, And in this antique image thy great ancestry V. The which, O ! pardon me thus to enfold In covert veil, and wrapt in shadows light, That feeble eyes your glory may behold. Which else could not endure those beames bright. But would be dazzled with exceeding light. O ! pardon, and vouchsafe witli patient ear The brave adventures of this P^aery knight. The good Sir Guyon, graciously to hear ; In whom great rule of Tcmp'rancc goodly doth appear. CANTO I. Guyon by Archimage abused '1 he Redcross knight awaits ; Finds "^Mordant and Amavia slain With Pleasure's poisoned baits. That cunning architect of canc'red guile, Whom prince's late displeasure left in bands. Vox falsed letters, and suborned wile ; .Soon as the Redcross knight he understands To been departed out of ICden lands, To serve again his sovereign Elfin queen ; I lis arts he moves, andoutof caytivcs' hands Himself he frees by secret means unseen ; His shackles empty left, himself escaped clean ; II. And forth he fares, full of malicious mind, To workcn mischief, and avenging woe, Whei-ever he that godly knight may find, His only heart-sore and hi" ">nly foe; CANTO L] ^1 Sith Una now he algates must forego, Whom his victorious hands did erst restore To native crown and kingdom late ygoe ; \\'liere slie enjoys sure peace for evermore, As weatlierbeaten ship arrived on happy shore. III. Him therefore now the object of liis spite, And deadly food he makes : him to offend By forged treason, or Ijy open fight, He seeks, of all his drift the aimed end : Thereto his subtile engines he does bend. His practick wit and his fair filed tongue. With thousand other sleights ; for wqW he kenn'd His credit now in doubtful balance hung : For hardly could be hurt, who was already stung. IV. Still, as he went, he crafty stales did lay, With cunning traynes him to entrap unwares, And privy spials placed in all his way, [fares ; To weet what course he takes, and how he To catch him at a vantage in his snares. But now so wise and wary was the knight By trial of his former harms and cares. That he descried, and shunned still, his sleight : The fish, that once was caught, new bait will hardly bite. V. Nath'lcss th' enchanter would not spare his pain. In hope to win occasion to his will ; Which when he long awaited had in vain, He changed his mind from one to other ill : For to all good he enem}^ was still. Upon the way him fortuned to meet, Fair marching underneath a shady hill, A goodly knight, all arm'd in harness meet. That from his head no place appeared to his feet. VI. His carriage was full comely and upright ; His countenance demure and temperate ; But yet so stern and terrible in sight. That cheer'd his friends, and did his foes amate : He was an Elfin born, of noble state And mickle worship in his native land ; Well could he tourney, and in lists debate. And knighthood took of good .Sir Huon's hand, [land. When with king Ol^eron he came to Faery vn. Him als accompanied upon the way A comely palmer, clad in black attire. Of ripest years, and hairs all hoary gray, That with a staff his feeble steps did stire. Lest his Io» ; way liis aged limbs should tire : And, if by looks one may tlie mind aread, He seem'd to be a sage and sober sire ; And ever with slow pace the knight did lead, \\'ho taught his trampling steed with equal Steps to tread. VIII, Such whenas Archimago them did view, He weened well to work some uncouth wile : Eftsoones, untwisting his deceitful clue, He gan to weave a web of wicked guile ; [style And, with fair countenance and flatt'ring To them approaching, thus the knight be- spake ; "Fair son of Mars, that seek with warlike spoil, [make, And great achievements, great yourself to Vouchsafe to stay your steed for humble miser's sake."* IX. He stay'd his steed for humble miser's sake, And bade tell on the tenor of his plaint : Who feigning then in every limb to quake Through inward fear, and seeming pale and faint, [paint : With piteous moan his piercing speech gan ' ' Dear lady ! how shall I declare thy case, Whom late I left in languorous constraint? Would God ! thyselfnow present were in place To tell this laieful tale : thy sight could w in thee grace : X. "Or rather would, O! would it so had chanced. That you, most noble sir, had present been When that lewd riljald, with vile lust ad- vanced, Laid first his filthy hands on virgin clean, To spoil her dainty corps, so fair and sheen As on the earth, great mother of us all, \\'ith living eye more fair was never seen Of chastity and honour virginal : Witness, ye heavens, whom she in vain to help did call ! XI. " How may it be," said then the knight half wroth, [shent?" Tho.t knight should knighthood ever so have "None but that saw," quoth he, "would ween for troth. How shamefully that maid he did torment : Her looser golden locks he rudely rent, [sword And drew her on the ground ; and his sharp Against her snowy breast he fiercely bent. And threat'ned death with many a bloody word; [abhorr'd." Tongue hates to tell the rest that eye to see '^ For a miserable man's sake — miser originally meant only miserable. F 2 6S [book II. xir. Therewith amoved from his sober mood, "And hves he yet," said he, "that wrought this act? And do the heavens afford him vital food?" " He hves," quoth he, "and boasteth of the f.ict, Ne yet hath any knight his eourage crack'd." " Where may that treachour then," said he, ' ' be found. Or by what means may I his footing tract?" "That shall I show," said he, " as sure as hound [bleeding wound." The stricken deer dotli challenge by the XIII. He stay'd not longer talk, but with fierce ire And zealous haste away is quickly gone To seek that knight, where him that crafty squire Supposed to be. They do arrive anon Where sate a gentle lady all alone ^\'ith garments rent, and hair dishevelled. Wringing her hands, and making piteous moan : Her swollen eyes were much disfigured, And her fair face with tears was foully blub- bered, XIV. The knight, approaching nigh, thus to her said ; "Fair lad}', through foul sorrow illbedight, Great pity is to see you thus dismay' d. And mar the blossom of your beauty bright : Forthy appease your grief and heavy pliglit, And tell the cause of your conceived pain ; For, if he live that hath you done despite. He shall you do due recompence again, Or else his wTong with greater puissance maintain." XV. \M-iich when she heard, as in despiteful wise She wilfully her sorrow did augment. And offer'd hope of comfort did despise : Her golden locks most cruelly she rent, [ment ; And scratch'd her face with ghastly dreri- Ne would she speak, ne see, ne yet be seen, But liid her visage, and her head clown bent, Either for grievous shame, or for great teene. As if lier heart w"'*h sorrow had transfixed beeri: XVI. Till her that squire bespake ; " Madam, my life. For God's dear love be not so wilful bent, But do vouchsafe now to receive relief, "Die which good fortune doth to you present. For what boots it to weep and to wayment When ill is chanced, but dolh the ill increase, And the weak mind \\ith double woe ment?" When she her squire heard speak, she gan appease Her voluntary pain, and feel some secret ease. XVII. Eftsoone she said ; "Ah ! gentle trusty squire. What comfort can I, woful wretch, conceive ! Or why should ever I henceforth desire To see fair heaven's face, and life not leave, Sith that false traitor did my honour reave?" " Praise traitor certes," said the Faery knight, " I read the man, that ever would deceive A gentle lady, or her wrong through might : Death were too little pain for such a foul despite. XVIII. " But now, fair lady, comfort to you make. And read who hath ye wrought this shame- fiil phght. That short revenge tlie man may overtake, Whereso he be, and soon upon him light.' ' ' Certes, " said she, ' ' I wote not howhehight. But vmder him a gray steed he did wield, Whose sides with dappled circles weren dight : Upright he rode, and in his silver shield He bore a bloody cross, that quarter' d all the field." XIX. "Now by my head," said Guyon, "much I muse [amiss. How that same knight should do so foul Or ever gentle damsel so abuse : For may I boldly say, he surely is A right good knight, and true of word ywis : I present was, and can it witness well, [prise When arms he swore, and straight did enter- Th' adventure of the errant damosel ; [tell. In which he hath great glory won, as I hear XX. " Xathlcss he shortly shall again be tried And fairly quit him of th' imputed blame ; Else, be ye sure, he dearly shall abide. Or make you good amendment for the same : All wrongs have mends, but no amends of shame. Now therefore, lad}', rise out of your pain, And see the salving of your blotted name." Fulllothsheseem'd thereto, but yet did feign ; For she w^as inly glad her purpose so to gain. XXI. Her purpose was not such as she did feign, Xe yet her person such as it was seen ; But undersimple show^ and semblant plain, Li^irVdTalse T)uessa secretly' imseen, - As a chaste virgin that had wronged been ; So had false Archimago her disguised^ Toliloke her guile with sorrow and sad teene; Andeke himself had craftily devised [aguised. To be her squire, and do her service well CANTO I.] 69 XXII. Her, Kite forlorn and naked, he liad found Where she did wander in waste wilderness, Lurking- in rocks and caves far underground, And with green moss cov'ring her nakedness To hide her shame and loathlv filthiness, Sith her Prhice .Vrthur of ])roud ornaments And borrow'd beauty spoil 'd : her natheless Th' enchanter finding fit for his intents \ Did thus revest, and deck'd with due habili- ments. xxiir. For all he did was to deceive good knights, And draw them from pursuit of praise and fiime To slug in sloth and sensual delights. And end their days with irrenowned shame. And now exceeding grief him overcame, To see the Redcross thus advanced high : Therefore this crafty engine he did franie, Against his praise to stir up enmity Of such, as virtues like mote unto him ally. XXIV. So now he Guyon guides an uncouth way Through woods and mountains, till they came at last Into a pleasant dale that lowly lay [placed, Betwixt two hills, whose high heads, over- The valley did with cool shade overcast ; Through midst thereof a little river roll'd. By which there sate a knight with helm un- laced. Himself refreshing with the liquid cold. After his travel long and labours manifold. XXV. " Lo ! yonder he," cried Archimage o.loud, "That wrought the shameful fact which I did shew ; And now he dotli himself in secret shroud. To fly the vengeance for his outrage due ; But vain ; for ye shall dearly do him rue ; (So God ye speed and send you good success !) , AVhich we far off will here abide to view." So they him left inflamed with wrathfulness, That straight against that knight his spear he did address. XXVI. Who, seeing him from far so fierce to prick, His warlike arms about him gan embrace. And in the rest his ready spear did stick ; Tho, whenas still he saw him towards pace. He gan rencounter him in equal race. They been ymet, both ready to affrap. When suddenly that warrior gan abase His threat'ned spear, as if some new mishap Had him betide, or hidden danger did entrap ; XXVII. And cried, " Alercv, sir knight ! and mercy, lord. For mine offence and heedless hardiment, That had almost committed crime abhorr'd. And with reproachful shame mine honour shent, [bent, Whiles cursed steel against that badge I The sacred badge of my Redeemer's death. Which on your shield is set for ornau'ient !" But his fierce foe his steed could stay uneath, Who, prick'd with courage keen, did cruel battle Ijreathc. XXVIII. But, when he heard him speak, straightway he knew His error ; and, himself inclining, said; "Ah ! dear Sir Guyon, well becometh you, Ikit me behoveth rather to upbraid. Whose hasty hand so far from reason stray 'd That almost it did heinous violence On that fair image of that heavenly maid, That decks and arms your shield with fair defence: [offence." Your court'sy takes on you another's due XXIX. So been they both atone, and do uprear Their beavers bright each other for to greet ; Cioodly comportance each to other bear, .\.nd entertain themselves with court'sies meet. [I weet. Then said the Redcross knight ; ' ' Now mote Sir Guyon, why with so fierce saliance. And fell intent ye did at erst me meet ; For, sith I know your goodly gou\crnance, Great cause, I ween, you guided, or some uncouth chance." XXX. " Certes," saidhe, "well motel shame to tell The fond encheason that me hither led. A false infamous faitour late befell Me for to meet, that seemed ill-bested, [read And plain'd of grievous outrage, which he j A knight had wrought against a lady gent ; I Which to avenge, he to this place me led, Where you he made the mark of his intent, And now is fled : foul shame him loUow where he went !" XXXI. So can he turn his earnest unto game, [ance. Through goodly handling and wise temper- By this his aged guide in presence came ; Who, soon as on that knight his eye did glance, Eftsoones of him had perfect cognizance, Sith him in Faery court he late avized ; And said ; " Fair son, God give you happy chance, [devised. And that dear Cross upon your shield Wherewith above all knights ye goodly seem aguised ! XXXII. " Joy may you have, and everlasting fame. Of late most hard achievement by you done^ THE FAERY QLEE.X, [book II. For which enrolled is your crlorious name In heavenly registers above the sun, [won ! Where you a saint w ith saints your seat have But \vTetched we, where ye have left your mark, Must now anew begin hke race to run. God guide thee, Guyon, well toend thy wark, And to the wished haven bring thv wear\' bark!" XXXIII. "Palmer," hira answered the Redcross knight, [wrought, "His be the praise, that this achievement Wlio made my hand the organ of His might ! More than goodwill, to me attribute nought ; For all I did, I did but as I ought. But you, fair sir, whose pageant next ensues. Well mote ye thee, as well can wish, your thought. That home ye may report thrice happy news ! For well ye worthy be for worth and gentle thewes." XXXIV. So courteous conge both did give and take. With right hands plighted, pledges of good will. Then Guyon forward gan his voyage make With his black palmer, that him guided still : Still he him guided over dale and hill, And with his steady staff did point his way ; His race with reason, and with words his will. From foul intemperance he oft did stay, And suff red not in wrath his hasty steps to stray. XXXV. In this fair wise they travell'd long yfere, Through many hard assays which did betide ; Of which he honour still away did bear. And spread his glory through all countries wide. At last, as chanced them by a forest side To pass, for succour from the scorching ray, They heard a rueful voice that deamly cried With piercing shrieks and many a doleful lay ; Which to attend, awhile their forward steps they stay. XXXVI. " But if that careless heavens," quoth she, "despise The doom of just revenge, and take delight To see sad pageants of men's miseries, As bound by them to live in life's despite ; Yet can they not warn Death from wretched wight. [Death to me. Come, then ; come soon ; come, sweetest And take away this long lent loathed light ; Sharp be thy wounds, but sweet the medi- cines be, [dom free. That long captived souls from ^Yeary thral- XXXVII. "But thou, sweet babe, whom frowning froward fate Hath made sad witness of thy father's fall, Si th heaven thee deigns to hold in living state. Long mayst thou live, and better thrive withal Than to thy luckless parents did befall ! Live thou ! and to thy mother dead attest. That clear she died from blemish criminal : Thy little hands embrued in bleeding breast Lo ! I for pledges leave ! So give me leave to rest ! " XXXVIII. With that, a deadly shriek she forth did throw That through the wood re-echoed again ; And after, gave a groan so deep and low That seem'd her tender heart was rent in twain , Or thrill'd with point of thorough-piercing pain ; As gentle hind, whose sides with cruel steel Through lanced, forth her bleeding life does rain, [feel, WTiiles the sad pang approaching she does Brays out her latest breath, and up her eyes doth seal. XXXIX. I Which when that wamor heard, dismount-! ing straight From his tall steed, he rush'd into the thick, And soon arrived where that sad portrait Of death and dolour lay, half dead, half quick In whose white alabaster breast did stick A cruel knife, that made a griesly wound. From which forth gush'd a stream of gore- blood thick. That all her goodly garments stain'd around, And into a deep sanguine dyed the grassy ground. XL. Pitiful spectacle of deadly smart. Beside a bubbling fountain low she lav. Which she increased with her bleeding heart, And the clean waves with purple gore did ray : Als in her lap a lovely babe did play His cmel sport, instead of sorrow due ; For in her streaming blood he did embay His little hands, and tender joints embrue : Pitiful spectacle, as ever eye did view ! XLI. Besides them both, upon the soiled grass The dead corse of an armed knight was spread, [was ; Whose armour all with blood besprinkled His ruddy lips did smile, and rosy red Did paint his cheerful cheeks, yet being dead ; Seem'd to have been a goodly personage. Now in his freshest flower of h^^tyhed, ick;\ t 1 CANTO I.] 'J J IE lAERY QUE EX. 71 Fit lo inflame fair lailv wiili love's raq;e, But that fierce fate did crop the blossom of his as^c. XI. ir. Whom when the £jood Sir Guyon did lx?liokl, His h.eart tjan wax a-, stark as marble stone. And his fresh blood did freeze with fearful cold, Ihat all his senses seem'd bereft atlonc : At last his mighty ghost gan deep to groan, As lion, grudging in his great disdain, Mourns inwardly, and to himself makes moan ; Till ruth and frail affection did constrain His stout courage lo stoop, and show his inward pain. XLIII. Out of her gored wound the cruel steel He lightly snatch'd, and did thefloodgate stop With his fair garment : then gan softly feel Her feeble pulse, to prove if any drop Of living blood yet in her veins did hop : Which when he felt to move he hoped fair To call back life to her forsaken shop : So well he did her deadly wounds repair, That at the last she gan to breathe out living air. XLIV. Which he perceiving, greatly gan rejoice, And goodly counsel, that for w ounded heart Is meetest med'cine, temp'red with sweet voice ; ' ' Ay me ! dear lady, which the image art Of rueful pity and impatient smart, [fate, Wliat direful chance arm'd with avenging Or cursed hand, hath play'd this cruel part, Thus foul to hasten your untimely date ? Speak, Oh, dear lady, speak ; help never comes too late." XLV. Therewith, her dim eye-lids she up gan rear, On which the dreary death did sit as sad As lump of lead, and made dark clouds appear : But when as him, all in bright armour clad, Before her standing she espied had. As one out of a deadly dream aftright. She weakly started, yet she nothing drad : Straight down again herself in great despite : She grovelling threw lo ground, as haling life and light. XLVI. The gentle knight her soon with careful pain Uplifted light, and softly did uphold : Thrice he her rear'd, and thrice she sunk again, Till he his arms about her sides gan fold. And to her said ; " Yet, if the stony cold Have not all seized on your frozen heart, I-et one word fall that may your grief unfjld, And tell the secret of your mortal smart : I^ScIjqXl UndS- i)rei) ent help, w ho does liis grief impart." '~ xi.vir. Then, casting up a ileadly look, full low She sigh'd from bottom of her wounded bre-ast ; And, after many bitter throbs did throw, With lips full pale, and fali'ring tongue opprest, [chest ; These words she breathed forth from riven " Leave, ah ! leave off, whatever wiglu thou be. To let a weary wretch from her due rest. And trouble dying soul's tranquillity ; Take not away, now got, \\hicli none would give to me." XLVI 1 1. *' Ah ! far be it," said he, " dear dame, fro To hinder soul from her desired rest, [me, Or hold sad life in long captivity : For, all I seek, is but to have redrest The hitter pangs that doth your heart infest. Tell then, O lady, tell what fatal priefe Hath Willi so huge misfortune you opprest ; That I may cast to compass your relief. Or die with you in sorrow, and partake your grief."* XLIX. With feeble hands then stretched forth on high. As heaven accusing guilty of her death, And with dry drops congealed in her eye. In these sad words she spent her utmost breath ; [uneaih " Hear then, O man, the sorrows that My tongue can tell, so far all sense they pass ! Lo! this dead corpse, that lies here und.-r- ncath. The gentlest knight that ever on green gras.» Gay steed with spurs did prick, the good Sir Mordant was : L. " Was, (ay the while, that he is not so now !) My lord, my love, mydear lord, mydear love. So long as heavens just with equal brow Vouchsafed to behold us from above. One day, when him high coumge did cmmove, (As wont ye knights to seek adventures wild. ) He pricked forth his puissant force to prove. Me then he left enwombed of this child. This luckless child, whom thus you see with blood defiled. LI. (hard fortune ye may " Him fortuned guess ! ) To come, where vile Acrasia does \\ onnc Acrasia, a false enchanteress, 72 [book II. That . many errant knights have foul for- donne ; Within a wand'ring island, that doth run And stray in perilous gulf, her dwelling is : Fair sir, if ever there ye travel, shun The cursed land where many wend aniibS And know it by the name ; it hight the Dcnvr of Bliss. LII. " Her bliss i^ all in pleasure, and delight, W'kercwith she makes her lovers drunken mad ; [drous might, And then with words, and weeds, of won- On them she works her will to uses bad : My liefest lord she thus beguiled had ; P'or he was flesh : (allfleshdoth frailty breed !) A\'lTom when I heard to been ?o ill bestad, (Weak wretch,) I wrapt myself in palmer's weed, [and great dread. And cast to seek him forth through danger I.III. " Xow had fair Cynthia by even turns Full measured three-quarters of her year. And thrice three times had fill'd her crooked horns, [bear, Whenas my womb her burden would for- And bade me call Lucina to me near. Lucina came : a manchild forth I brought ; The woods, the nymphs, my bow'rs, my midwives, were [bought ; Hard help at need ! so dear thee, babe, 1 Yet nought too dear I deem'd, while so my dear I sought. LIV. " Him so I sought ; and so at last I found. Where him thatwitchhad thralled toherwill, In chains of lust and lewd desires ybound, And so transformed from his former skill, That me he knew not, neither his own ill ; Till, through wise handhng and fair govern- ance, I him recured to a better will. Purged from drugs of foul intemperance : Then means I gan devise for his deliverance. LV. "Which when the vile enchanteress per- ceived. How that my lord from her I would reprieve, With cup thus charm'd him parting she deceived ; [does g;ive, 'Sad verse, give death to him that death And loss of love to her that loves to live, So soon as Bacchus with the Nymph does link ! ' So parted we, and on our journey drive : Till, coining to this well, hestoop'd to drink: The charm fulfilld, dead suddenly he down did sink. LVI. "Which, when I, wretch " — Not one word more she said, But breaking off the end for want of breath, And sliding soft, as down to sleep her laid. And ended all her woe in quiet death. That seeing, good Sir Guyon could uneath From tears abstain ; for grief his heart did grate. And from so heavy sight his head did wreathe, Accusing fortune, and too cruel fate, Which plunged had fair lady in so \\Tetched state. LVII. Then, turning to his palmer, said ; ' ' Old sire, Behold the image of mortality. And feeble nature cloth'd with fleshly tire ! When raging Passion with fierce tyranny Robs Reason of her due regalitj', And makes it servant to her basest part ; The strong it weakens with infirmity. And with bold fury arms the weakest heart ! The strong through pleasure soonest falls, the weak through smart." LVIII. " But Temperance," said he, " with golden squire Betwixt them both can measure out a mean ; Neither to melt in pleasure's hot desire, Nor fry in heartless grief and doleful tecr.e : Thrice happy man, who fares them b.o.ii atwecn ; But sith this wretched woman overcome Of anguish, rather than of crime hath been, Reserve her cause to her eternal doom ; And, in the mean, vouchsafe her honourable tomb." LIX. " Palmer, " quoth he, " death is an equal doom To good and bad, the common inn of rest ; But after death the trial is to come. When best shall be to them that lived best : But both alike, when death hath both sup- prest. Religious reverence doth burial teene ; Which whoso wants, wants so much of his rest : For all so great shame after death I ween. As self to dyen bad, unburied bad to been." LX. So both agree their bodies to en-grave : The great earth's womb they open to the sky. And with sad cypress seemly it embrave ; Then, covering with a clod their closed eye, They lay therein their corses tenderly, And bid them sleep in everlasting peace. But, ere they did their utmost obsequy, CANTO II.] Tim FAERY QUE EM, 73 Sir Guyon more affection to increase, Bynempt a sacred vow, whicli none should aye release. LXI. The dead knight's sword out of his sheath he drew, With wliich he cut a lock of all their hair, Whicli inctlling wiih their blood and earth he threw Into the grave, and gan devoutly swear ; "Such and such evil God on Gi.yon rear, And worse and worse, young orphan, be thy pain. If 1, or thou, due vengeance do fcrboar, Till guilty blood her guerdon do ob- tain ! " — So, shedding many tears, they closed the earth again. CANTO II. Babe's bloody hands may not be cleansed. 'I'he fa-.e ot' Golden Mean : Her sisters, Two Exneinities, StiTve Til:r"£Q"b5iji6B clean. Thus when Sir Guyon with his faithful guide Had with due rites and dolorous lament The end of their sad tragedy uptied, TJje little babe up in his arms lie hent ; \\X\o with sweet plcasaunce and bold blan- dishment, Gan smile on them, that rather ought to weep. As careless of his woe, or innocent Of that was done ; that ruth empicrced deep In that knight's heart, and words with bitter tears did steep : ir. " Ah I luckless babe, born under cruel star. And in dead parents' baleful ashes bred, Full little weenest thou wiiat sorrows are Left thee for portion of thy livelihed ; Poor orphan ! in the wide world scattered, AsT:jttdding brandi rent from the native tree. And throwcn forth, till it be withered I Sucljjs the state of men ! Thus enter we Intothislife with woe, andjndwitli misery 1 " iir. Then, soft himself inclining on his knee Down to that well, did in tlie water ween (So love does loath disdainful nicety) His guilty hands from bloody gore to clean : He wash'd them oft and oft, yet nought they been For all his wasliing cleaner : still he strove ; Yet still the little hands were bloody seen : The which him into great amazement drove, And into diverse doubt his wavering wonder clove. IV. He wist not whether blot of foul offence Might not be purged with water nor with bath ; Or that High God, in lieu of innoeenee. Imprinted had that token of His wrath, To show how sore blooclguiltiness He hat'th ; Or that the charm and venom, which they drunk, Their blood with secret filth infected hath. Being diffused through '.he senseless trunk Tliat, through the great contagion, direful deadly slunk. V. W'hom thus at gaze the palmer gan to board j Wi'h goodly reason, and thus fair bespake ; " Ye be right hard amated, gracious lord, And of your ignorance great marvel make Whiles cause not well conceived ye mistake. But know, that secret virtues are infused In every fountain, and in every lake, Which, who hath skill them rightly to have ehoosed, [used : To proof of passing wonders hath full often vr. "Of those, some were so from their source indued [pap By great dame Nature, from whose fruitful Their wellheads spring, and are with mois- ture dew'd ; [sap. Which feeds each living plant with liquid And fills with fiow'rs fair Flora's painted lap : But other some, by gift of later grace ''\ Or Ijy good prayers, or by other hap, I Had virtue pour'd into their waters' base, I And thenceforth were renown'd, and sought from place to place. vir. "Such is this well, wrouglit by occasion strange, Which to her nymph befell. Upon a day, As she the woods with bov/ and shafts d'd range, The heartless hind and roebuck to dismay, Dan Faunus chanced to meet her by the way, I And, kindling fire at her fair-burning eye, Inflamed was to follow beauty's chase, 1 And chased her, that fast from him did fly ; ' As hind from her, so she fled from her enemy. 74 [book II. VIII. " At last, when failing breath bcc;^an to faint, And saw no means to 'scape ; of shame afraid, She set her down to weep for sore constraint ; And, to Diana calling loud for aid, Her dear b:iSought to let her die a maid. The goddess heard ; and sudden, where she sate [dismay'd Welling out streams of tears, and quite With -stony fear of that rude rustic mate, Transform'd her to a stone from steadfast virgin's state. IX. " Lo ! now she is that stone; from ^yhose two heads, [flow. As from two weeping eyes, fresh streams do Yet cO'd 'h rough fear and old conceived dreads ; [show, And yet the s-one her semblance seems to Shaped like a maid, that such ye may her know ; And yet her vir'ues in her water bide : For it is chaste and pure as purest snow, Ne lets her waves with any filih be dyed ; But ever, like herself, uns'.ained haUi been tried. X. "From thence it comes, that this babe's bloody hand May not be cleansed with water of this well : Ne ccrtes, sir, strive you it to withstand. But lei them s'.ill Ije bloody, as befell. That they his mother's innocence may tell. As she bequcath'd in her last testament ; That as a sacred symbol, it may dwell In her son's fle.-.h, to mind revengement. And be for all chaste dames an endless moniment." XI. He heark'ncd to his reason; and the child Uptaking, to the palmer gave to bear ; But his sad father's arms wi'.h blood defiled, An heavy load, himself did lightly rear ; And turning to that place, in which whyleare He left his lofty steed with golden sell And goodly gorgeous barbs, him found not By other accident, that erst befell, [there : He is convey'd ; but how, or where, here fits not tell. xir. Which when Sir Guyon saw, all were he wroth. Yet algates mote he soft himself ? opcase, And fairly fare on foot, however lo h : His double burden did him sore disease. So. long they travelled with little ease, Till that at last they to a castle came. Built Oil a rock adjoining to the seas : It was an ancient work of antique fame. And wondrous strong by nature and by skilful frame. XIII. Therein three sisters dwelt of sundry sort, 'Hie children of one sire by mothers thi;ee^; WIk), dying whylome, did divide this fort To them in equal shares in equal fee : But strifeful mind and diverse Quality Drew them in parts, and each made other's foe : '^ .Still did they strive and daily disagree ; The eldest did against the youngest go. And both against the middest meant to worken woe, XIV. Where when the knight arrived, he was right well Lbecame, Received, as knight of so much worth Of second sister, who did far excel The other two ; ^Ie31ha was her name, A sober, sad, and comely courteous dttme : Who rich array'd, and yet in modest guise, In goodly garaients that her well becfiuie. Fair marching forth in honourable v.ise. Him at the threshold met and welLdid enterprize. XV. She led him up into a goodly bow'r, And comely courted with meet modesty ; Xe in her speech, ne in her haviour, \\'as lightness seen or looser vanity. But gracious womanhood, and gravity, Abo\e the reason of her youthful years : Her golden locks she roundly did uptie In braided trammels, that no looser hairs Did out of order stray about her dainty ears. XVI. Whilst she herself thus busily did frame Seemly to entertain her new-come guest, News hereof to her other sisters came, Who all this while were at their wanton rest, Accourtingeach her friend with la\"ish feast : They were two knights of peerless puissance, And famous far abroad for warlike gest. Which to these ladies' love did countenance, And lo his mistress each himself strove to advance. XVII. He, that made love unto the eldest dame, Was hight Sir Hudibras, an harHy man ; Yet not so good of deeds as great of name, Wliich he by many rash adventures wan, Since errant arms to sow he first began. More huge in strength than wise in work he was. And reason with fool-hardize over-ran ; Stern melancholy did his courage pass ; And was, for terror more, all arm'd in shining brass. XVIII. But he, that loved the \ oungcst, was Sansloy ; H^, that fair Una late foul outragedj CANTO II.] IS ThcjiiOiL unruly and the boldest boy That ever warlike w capons nienaged, And all to lawless lust encouraged [might ; Through strong opinion of his matchless Xe ought he cared whom he endamaged By tortious wrong, or wliom bereaved of right ; [to fight. He, now this lady's champion, chose for love XIX. These two gay knights vow'd to so diverse loves, Each other docs envy with deadly hate, .nd daily war against his foeman moves. In hope to win more favour with his mate, And th' others pleasing service to abate. To magnify his own. But when they heard How in that place strange knight arrived late. Both knights and ladies forth right angry fared, [prepared. And fiercely untn battle stern themselves x.\. Rut, ere they could proceed unto the place Where he abode, themselves at discord fell, And cruel combat joined in middle space : W'itTr hui 1 I ble assault, and fury fell, [quell, They heap'd huge strokes the scorned life to Tliat all on uproar from her settled seat The house was raised, and all that in did dwell ; Seem'd that loud thunder with amazement great [fould'ring heat. Did rend the rattling skies with flames of XXI. The noise thereof called forth that stranger knight, [hcnd ; To weet what dreadful thing was there in \\'here whenas two brave knights in bloody fight ^^'ith deadly rancour he enranged fond, His sunbroad shield about his wrist he bond. And shining blade unsheath'd, with which he ran Unto that stead, their strife to understond ; And, at his first arrival, them began With goodly means to pacify, well as he can. XXII. But they, him spying, both with greedy force At once upon him ran, and him beset With strokes of mortal steel without remorse. And on his shield like iron sledges bet. As when a bear and tiger, being met In cruel fight on Lybic ocean wide, Es]5y a traveller with feet surbet. Whom they in equal prey hope to divide. They stint their strife and him assail en every side. XXTII. But he, not like a weary traveller, Their sharp assault right boldly did rebut, And suft'red not their blows to bile him near, Bui with redoubled LufTs lliem back did put : Whose grieved minds, wliich choler did englut, [spite, Against themselves turning their wrathful Gan with new rage their shields to hew and cut, Butstill, when Guyoncameto part theirfight, With heavy load on him they freshly gan to smite. XXIV. As a tall ship tossed in troublous seas. Whom raging winds, threat'ning to make the prey Of the rough rocks, do diversely disease. Meets two contrary billows by the way, That her on either side do sore assay. And boast to swallow her in greedy grave ; She, scorning both their spites, does make wide \\ ay, [wave. And with her breast breaking the foamy Does ride on both their backs, and fair her- self doth save : XXV. So boldly he him bears, and rusheth forth Between them both, by conduct of his bkide. Wondrous great prowess and heroic worth Heshow'd that day, andrareensample made. When two so mighty warriors he dismay'd: At once he wards and strikes ; he takes and pays ; Now forced to yield, now forcing to invade ; Before, behind, and round about him lays : So double was his pains, so double be his praise. xxvr. Strange sort of fight, three valiant knights ' to see Three combats join in one, and to darraine A triple war with triple enmity. All for their ladies' froward love to gain. Which, gotten, was but hate. So Love does reign [war ; In stoutest minds, and maketh monstrous He maketh war, he maketh peace again. And yet his peace is but continual jar : O miserable men, that to him subject are ! XXVII. Whilst thus they mingled were in furious arms. The fair Medina with her tresses torn And naked breast, in pity of their harms, Amongst them ran; and falling them bcforn. Besought them by the womb which them had born [dear, And by the loves which were to them most And by the knighthood which they sure had sworn Their deadly cruel discord to forbear. And to her j ust condi tions of fair peace to hear. 76 [book II. XXVIII. But her two other sisters .standing by, [bade Her loud gainsaid ; and both their champions Pursue the end of tlieir strong enmity, As ever of their loves they would be glad : Vet she with pithy words, and counsel sad, Still strove their stubborn rages to revoke ; That at the last, suppressing fury mad. They gan abstain from dint of direful stroke. And harken to the sober speeches which she stooke. XXIX. "Ah ! puissant lords.what cursed evil spright, Or fell Erinnys, in your noble hearts Her hellish brand hath kindled with despite. And stirr'd you up to work your wilful smarts ? Is this the joy of arms? be these the parts Of glorious knighthood, after blood to thrust,* And not regard due right and just desarts ? \'ain is the vaunt, and \ictory unjust, That more to mighty hands than rightful cause doth trust. XXX. " And were there rightful cause of difference, Yet were not better fair it to accord, Than with blood-guiltiness to heap offence And mortal vengeance join to crime abhorr'd? O ! fly from wrath ! fly, O my liefest lord ! Sad be the sights, and bitter fruits of war, Alid thousand furies wait on wrathful sword : Ne ought the praise of prowess more doth mar [tentious jar. Than foul revenging rage, and base con- XX xr. " But lovely concord, and most sacred peace, Doth nourish virtue, and fast friendship breeds ; [does increase, Weak she makes strong, and strong thing Till it the pitch of highest praise exceeds : Brave be her wars, and honourable deeds. By which she triumphs over ire and pride. And wins an olive garland for her meeds. Be therefore, O my dear lords, pacified And this misseeming discord meekly lay aside." ^ " xxxn. Her gracious words th.eir rancour did appal. And sunk so deep into their boiling breasts, That down they let their cruel weapons fall, And lowly did abase their lofty crests To her f.\ir presence and discreet behests. Then she began a treaty to procure, [quests, And stablish terms betwixt both their re- That as a law for ever should endure ; Which to observe, in word of knights they did assure. * Thirstj altered for the rhyme. XXXIII. Which to confirm and fast to bind their league. After their weary sweat and bloody toil, She then besought, during their quiet treague. Into her lodging to repair awhile. To rest themselves, and grace to reconcile. They soon consent : so forth with her they fare ; [spoil \Vhere they are well received and made to Themselves of soiled arms, and to prepare I'heir minds to pleasure, and their mouths to dainty fare. XXXIV. And those t wo froward sisters, theirfair loves, Came with them eke, all Vvcre they wondrous loth. And feigned cheer, as for the time l^ehoves ; Pjut could not colour yet so well the troth. But that their natures bad appeared in both : For both did at their second sister grutch And inly grieve, as doth an hidden moth The inner garment fret, not th' outer touch ; One thought her cheer too little, th' other thought too much. XXXV. Elissa (so the eldest hight) did deem SliclTentertainment base, ne ought would eat, Xe ought would speak, but evermore did seem As discontent for want of mirth or meat ; Xo solace could her paramour intreat Her once to show, ne court, nor dalliance ; But with bent low'ring brows, as she would threat, [countenance ; She scowl'd, and frown'd, with froward Unworthy of fair lady's comely governance. XXXVI. But young Perissa was of other mind, Fullof disport, still laughing, loosely light, And quite contrary to her sister's kind ; Xo measure in her mood, no rule of right, But poured out in pleasure and deliglit : Inwine and meats she flow'd above thebank. And in excess exceeded her own might ; In sumptuous tire she joy 'd herself to pr-ank ; But of her love too lavish ; little have slie thank ! XXXVII. Fast by her side did sit the bold Sansloy, Fit mate for such a mincing minion, Who in her looseness took exceeding joy ; ]\Iight not be found a franker franion. Of her lewd parts to make companion. But Hudibras, more like a malecontcnt. Did sec and grieve at his bold fashion ; Hardly could he endure his hanlinient ; Yet still he sat, and. inly did himself torment. CANTO II.] THE FA FRY QUEEN. 11 XXXVIII. Betwixt tlicm both the fair Medina sate With sober grace and goodly carriage : With equal measure she did moderate The strong extremities of their outrage ; Tliat for\\ ard pair she ever would assuage, When they would strive due reason to exceed; But that same froNvard twain would accordgc, And of lier plenty add imto their need : So kept she them in order, and herself in heed. XXXIX. Thus fairly she attempered her feast, And pleased them all with meet satiety : At last, when lust of meat and drink was ceased , She Guyon dear besought of courtesy To tell from whence he came through jeopardy, [bound : And whitlier now on new adventure Who with bold grace, and comely gravity, Drawing to him the eyes of all around. From lofty siege began these words aloud to sound. XL. "This thy demand, O lady, doth revive Fresh memory in me of that great queen, Great and most glorious virgin queen alive. That with her sovereign power, and sceptre sheen. All Faery land does peaceably susteen. In widest ocean she her throne does rear, That over all the earth it may be seen ; As morning sun her beams dispredden clear : And in her face fair peace and mercy doth appear. XLI. " In her the riches of all heavenly grace In chief degree are heaped up on high : And all, that else this w'orld's enclosure base Hath great or glorious in mortal eye, Adorns the person of her majesty ; That men, beholding so great excellence And rare perfection in mortality. Do her adore with sacred reverence. As th' idol of her ^Maker's great magnificence. XLII. " To her I homage and my service owe. In number of the noblest knights on ground, Islongst whom on me she deigned to bestow Order of jSIaidenhood, the most renown'd, That may this day in all the world be found. An yearly solcnui feast she v.onts to make, The day that first dotli lead the year around, To which all knights of worth and courage bold [be told. Resort, to hear of strange adventures to XLIII. " There this old palmer show'd himself that day, And to that mighty princess did complain Of grievous mischiefs, which a wicked Fay Flad wrought, and many whelm'd in deadly pain. Whereof he craved redress. My sovereign. Whose glory is in gracious deeds, and joys Throughout the world her mercy to maintain, Eftsoones devised redress for such annoys : Me, all unfit for so great purpose she employs. XLIV. " Now hath fiiir Phoebe with her silver face Thrice seen the shadows of the nether world, Sith last I left that honourable place. In which her royal presence is enroU'd ; Ne ever shall I rest in house nor hold, Till I that false Acrasia have won ; Of whose foul deeds, too hideous to be told, I witness am, and this their wretched son Whose woful parents she hath wickedly fordonne. " XLV. " Tell on, fair sir," said she, " that doleful tale, [strain. From which sad ruth does seem 5^ou to re- That we may pity such unhappy bale, And learn from Pleasure's poison to abstain : 111, by ensample, good doth often gain." Then forw-ard he his purpose gan pursue, And told the story of the mortal pain. Which Mordant and Amavia did rue ; As,'>v'ith lamenting eyes, himself did lately view. XLVI. Night was far spent ; and now in ocean deep Orion,"Tlying fast from hissing snake, His flaming head did hasten for to steep, Wlien of his piteous tale he end did make : Whilst with delight of that he wisely spake Those guests beguiled did beguile their eyes Of kindly sleep, that did them overtake. At last, when they had mark'd the changed skies, [to rest him hies. They wist their b.our was spent ; then each [book II. CANTO III. Vain Braggadocchio, getting Guy- Tin's horse, is made the scorn Of knighthood true ; and is of fair Belphoebe foul forlorne. Soon as the morrow fair with purple beams Dispersed the shadows of the misty night, And Titan, playing on the eastern streams, Gan clear the dewy air with springing light ; Sir Guyon, mindful of his vow yplight. Uprose from drowsy couch, and him addrest Unto the journey which he had behight : His puissant arms about his noble breast, And many folded shield he bound about his wrest. II. Then, taking conge of that virgin pure. The bloody-handed babe unto her truth Did earnestly commit, and her conjure In virtuous lore to train his tender youth. And all that gentle nouriture ensu'th ; And that, so soon as riper years he raught. He might, for memory of that day's ruth, Be called Ruddymane : and thereby taught T' avenge his parent's death on them that had it wrought. III. So forth he fared, as now befell, on foot, Sith his good steed is lately from him gone ; Patience perforce : helpless what may it boot To fret for anger, or for grief to moan ? His palmer now shall foot no more alone. So fortune wrought, as under green wood side He lately heard that dying lady groan. He left his steed without, and spear beside. And rushed in on foot to aid her ere she died. IV. The whiles a losel wand'ring by the way, One that to bounty never cast his mind, Xe thought of honour ever did assay His baser breast, but in his kestrel kind A pleasing vein of glory he did find. To which his flowing tongue and troublous spright [inclined ; Gave him great aid, and made him more He, that brave steed there finding ready dight, [away full light. Purloined both steed and spear, and ran V. Now gan his heart all swell in jollity, And of himself great hope and help con- ceived, Tbat-puffedup with smoke of vanity, Andwitji self-Iovcd personage deceived, He gan to hope of men to be received [be ; For such, as he him thought, or fain would But for in court gay portance he perceived. And gallant show to be in greatest gree, Eftsoones to court he cast t' advance his first degree. VI. And by the way he chanced to espy One sitting idle on a sunny bank, To whom avaunting in great bravery. As peacock that his painted plumes doth prank. He smote his courser in the trembling flank. And to him threat'ned his heart-thrilling spear. The seely man, seeing him ride so rank And aim at him, fell flat to ground for fear, And crying, "Mercy," loud, his piteous hands gan rear. VII. Thereat the scarecrow waxed wondrous proud. Through fortune of his first adventure fair. And with big thund'ring voice reviled him loud ; "Vile caytive, vassal of dread and despair? Unworthy of tlie common breathed air, Wliy livest thou, dead dog, a longer day, And dost not unto death thyself prepare ? Die, or thyself my captive yield for aye : Great fav®ur I thee grant for answer thus to stay." VIII. " Hold, O dear lord, hold your dead-doing hand," [thrall." Then loud he cried, " I am your humble "Ah wretch," quoth he, "thy destinies withstand My wratliful will, and do for mercy call. I give thee life : therefore prostrated fall, And kiss my stirrup ; that thy homage be." Tlie miser threw himself, as an offal, , Straight at his foot in base humility, [fee. And cleeped him his liege, to hold of him in IX. So happy peace they made and fair accord. Eftsoones thisliegeman gan to wax more bold And, when he felt the folly of liis lord. In his own kind he gan himself unfold : For he was wily witted, and grown old In cunning sleights and practickc knavery. CANTO III.] THE FAERV QUEEN. 79 From that day fortli he cast for to uphold 1 lis idle humour with fine flattery, And blow the bellows to his swelling vanity. X, Trompart, fit man for Braggadocchio To serve at court in view of vaunting eye : Vain-glonous> man, when flutt'ring wind _.