36 The first Booke of Cant. III.

Shee found them both in darkefome corner pent;
Where that old woman day and night did pray
Vpon her beads deuoudly penitent;
Nine hundred Pater nosters euery day,
And thrifse nine hundred Aues she was wont to say.

And to augment her painefull penaunce more,
Thrifse euery weeke in afhes shee did fitt,
And nexther wrinkled ſkin rough fackecloth wore,
And thrifse three times did faft from any bitt:
But now for feare her beads she did forgett.
Whofe neeleſſe dread for to remoue away,
Faire Vna framed words and count naunce fitt:
Which hardly doen, at length she gan them pray,
That in their cotage ſmall that night the reſt her may.

The day is ſpent, and commeth drowſe night,
When euery creature ſhrowded is in ſleep;
Sad Vna downe her laies in weary plight,
And at her feete the Lyon watch doth keepe:
In ſtead of reſt, she does lament, and weepe
For the late loſſe of her deare loued knight,
And ſighes, and grones, and euermore does ſleepe.
Her tender breſt in bitter teares all night,
All night she thinks too long, and often lookes for light.

Now when Aldeboran was mounted hye
Aboue the ſhinie Caffiopeias chaire,
And all in deadly ſleepe did drowned lye,
One knocked at the dore, and in would fare;
He knocked faſt, and often curſt, and ſware,
That ready entraunce was not at his call:
For on his backe a heavy load he bare
Of nightly ſtelths and pillage ſeuerall,
Which he had got abroad by purchas criminall,

He

37 Cant. II. the Faery Queene.

Hewas to weete a ſtout and ſturdy thieſe,
Wont to robbe Churches of their ornaments,
And poore mens boxes of their due relieſe,
Which giuen was to them for good intents;
The holy Saints of their rich veſtiments
He did diſrobe, when all men careleſſe ſlept,
And ſpoild the Priefts of their habiliments,
Whiles none the holy things in safety kept;
Then he by conning ſleights in at the window crept.

And all that he by right or wrong could find,
Vnto this houſe he brought, and did beſtow
Vpon the daghter of this woman blind,
Abella daughter of Corcecaflow,
With whom he whoredome vſd, that ſew did know,
And fed her faſt with ſeaſt of offerings,
And plenty, which in all the land did grow;
Ne ſpared he to giue her gold and rings:
And now he to her brought part of his ſtolen things.

Thus long the dore with rage and threats he bett,
Yet of thofe fearfull women none durſt riſe,
The Lyon frayed them, him in to lett:
He would no lenger ſtay him to aduize,
But open breakes the dore in furious wize,
And entring is; when that diſdainfull beaſt
Encountring ſierce, him ſuddein doth ſurprize,
And ſeizing cruell clawes on trembling breſt,
Vnder his Lordly foot him proudly hath ſuppreſt.

Him booteth not reſift, nor ſuccour call,
His bleeding hart is in the vengers hand,
Who ſtreight him rent in thousand peeces ſmall,
And quite diſmembred hath: the thirtſy land

C 4

Druncke

The first Booke of Cant. III.

38

Dronke vp his life; his corfe left on the strand.
His fearefull freends weare out the wofull night,
Ne dare to weepe, nor seeme to vnderstand
The heauie hap, which on them is alight,
Affraid, leaft to them felues the like mishappen might.

Now when broad day the world discouered has,
Vp Vna rose, vp rose the lyon eke,
And on their former journey forward pas,
In waies vnknowne, her wandring knight to seeke,
With paines far pafling that long wandring Greeke,
That for his loue refused deity;
Such were the labours of this Lady meeke,
Still seeking him, that from her still did flye,
Then furtheft from her hope, whé moft she weened nye,

Soone as she parted thence, the fearfull twayne,
That blind old woman and her daughter dear
Came forth, and finding Kirkrapine there flayne,
For anguish great they gan to rend their heare,
And beat their brefts, and naked fesh to teare,
And when they both had wept and wayld their fill,
Then forth they ran like two amazed deare,
Halfe mad through malice, and reuenging will,
To follow her, that was the causer of their ill.

Whome ouertaking, they gan loudly bray,
With hollow houling, and lamenting cry,
Shamefully at her rayling all the way,
And her accusing of diſhonesty,
That was the flowre of faith and chaſtity;
And still amidſt her rayling, she did pray,
That plagues, and miſchiefes, and long miſery
Might fall on her, and follow all the way,
And that in endleſſe error she might euer stray.

But

the Faery Queene

39

Cant. III.

But when she saw her prayers nought preuaile,
Shee backe retourned with some labour loſt;
And in the way, as shee did weepe and waile,
A knight her mett in mighty armes emboſt,
Yet knight was not for all his bragging boſt,
But subtill Archimag, that Vna ſought
By traynes into new troubles to haue toſte:
Of that old woman tidings he beſought,
If that of ſuch a Lady ſhee could tellen ought.

Therewith she gan her paſſion to renew,
And cry, and curſe, and raile, and rend her heare,
Saying, that harlott she too lately knew,
That cauſd her ſhed so many a bitter teare,
And so forth told the ſtory of her ſeare:
Much ſeemed he to mone her hapleſſe chaunce,
And after for that Lady did inquere;
Which being taught, he forward gan aduaunce
His fair enchaunted ſteed, and eke his charmed launce.

Ere long he came, where Vna traueild flow,
And that wilde Champion wayting her beſyde:
Whome ſeeing ſuch, for dread hee durſt not ſhow
Him ſelfe too nigh at hand, but turned wyde
Vnto an hil; from whence when ſhe him ſpyde,
By his like ſeeming ſhield her knight by name
Shee weend it was, and towards him gan ride:
Approching nigh she wift, it was the fame, (came)
And with faire fearefull humbleſſe towards him ſhee

And weeping ſaid, Ah my long lacked Lord,
Where haue ye bene thus long out of my ſight?
Much feared I to haue bene quite abhord,
Or ought haue done, that ye diſpleaſen might,

That

The first Booke of

Cant. III.

That should as death vnto my deare heart light:
For since mine eie your ioyous fight did mis,
My chearefull day is turnd to cheareleſſe night,
And eke my night of death the thadow is;
But welcome now my light, and thining lampe of blis.

He thereto meeting ſaid, My deareſt Dame,
Far be it from your thought, and fro my wil,
To thinke that knighthood I ſo much ſhould ſhame,
As you to leaue, that haue me loued ſtil,
And choſe in Faery court of meere goodwil,
Where nobleft knights were to be found on earth:
The earth ſhall ſooner leaue her kindly ſkil
To bring ſoth fruit, and make eternall derth,
Then I leaue you, my lieſe, yborn of heuenly berth.

And ſooth to ſay, why I leſte you ſo long,
Was for to ſeeke aduenture in ſtraunge place,
Where *Archimage* ſaid a ſelon ſtrong
To many knights did daily worke diſgrace;
But knight he now ſhall neuer more deſace,
Good cause of mine excuſe, that mote ye pleaſe
Well to accept, and euer more embrace
My faithfull ſeruice, that by land and ſeas (peaſe.)
Haue vowd you to defend. Now then your plaint ap-

His louely words her ſeemd due recompence
Of all her paffed paines: one louing howre
For many yeares of ſorrow can diſpence:
A dram of sweete is worth a pound of ſowre:
Shee has forgott, how many, a woeful ſtowre
For him ſhe late endurd; ſhe ſpeakes no more
Of pafft: true is, that true loue hath no powre
To looken backe, his cies be fixt before.

Before her ſtands her knight, for whom ſhe toyld ſo ſore.

Much

the Faëry Queene.

Cant. III.

Much like, as when the beaten marinere,
That long hath wandred in the Ocean wide,
Ofte ſouſt in ſwelling Tethys ſaltiſh teare,
And long time hauing tand his tawney hide,
With bluſtring breath of Heauè, that none can bide,
And ſcorching flames of ſierce Orions hound,
Soone as the port from far he has eſpide,
His chearefull whiſtle merily doth ſound, (round.)
And Nereus crownes with cups; his mates him pledg a-

Such ioy made Vna, when her knight ſhe found;
And eke th'enchaunter ioyous ſeemde no leſſe,
Then the glad marchant, that does vew from ground
His ſhip far come from watrie wilderneſſe,
He hurles out vowes, and Neptune oft doth bleſſe:
So forth they pafft, and all the way they ſpent
Diſcourſing of her dreadful late diſtreſſe,
In which he askt her, what the Lyon ment:
Who told her all that fell in iourney, as ſhe went.

They had not ridden far, when they might ſee
One pricking towards them with haitie heat,
Full ſtrongly armd, and on a courſer free,
That through his fierſneſſe ſomed all with ſweat,
And the ſharpe yron did for anger eat,
When his hot ryder ſpurd his chauffed ſide;
His looke was ſterne, and ſeemed ſtill to threat
Cruell reuenge, which he in hart did hyde,
And on his ſhield Sans Icy in bloody lines was dyde.

When nigh he drew vnto this gentle payre
And saw the Red-croſſe, which the knight did beare,
He burnt in fire, and gan eſtſoones prepare
Himſelfe to batteill with his couched ſpeare.

Loth

The first Booke of

Cant. III.

Loth was that other, and did faint through feare,
To taſte th'vntryed dint of deadly ſteele;
But yet his Lady did so well him cheare,
That hope of new good hap he gan to ſeele;
So bent his ſpeare, and ſpurd his horſe with yron heele.

But that proud Paynim forward came so ſerce,
And full of wrath, that with his ſharthead ſpeare
Through vainly croſſed ſhield he quite did perce,
And had his ſtaggering ſteed not ſhronke for ſeare,
Through ſhield and body eke he ſhould him beare:
Yet so great was the puſſance of his puſh,
That from his ſadle quite he did him beare:
He tombling rudely downe to ground did rufh,
And from his gored wound a well of bloud did guſh.

Dismounting lightly from his loftie ſteed,
He to him lept, in minde to reaue his life,
And proudly ſaid, Lo there the worthie meed
Of him, that flew Sansfoy with bloody knife;
Henceforth his ghōſt freed from repining ſtrife,
In peace may paffen ouer Lethe lake,
When mourning altars purged with enimies life,
The black infernall Furies doen aſlake:
Life from Sansfoy thou tookſt, Sanſoy ſhall fró thee take.

Therewith in haſte his helmet gan v..lace,
Till Vna cride, O hold that heauie hand,
Deare Sir, what euer that thou be in place:
Enough is, that thy foe doth vanquifit ſtand
Now at thy mercy: Mercy not withſtand :
For he is one the trueſt knight aliue,
Though conquered now he lye on lowly land,
And whileſt him fortune fauourd, ſayre did thrive
In bloudy field: therefore of life him not d epriue.

Her

the Faëry Queene.

Cant. III.

Her piteous wordes might not abate his rage,
But rudely rending vp his helmet, would
Haue ſlayne him ſtreight: but when he ſees his age,
And hoarie head of Archimago old,
His haſtly hand he doth amaſed hold,
And halſe aſhamed, wondred at the ſight:
For the old man well knew he, though vntold,
In charmes and magick to haue wondrous might,
Ne euer wont in field, ne in round lifts to ſight.

And ſaid, Why Archimago, luckleſſe ſyre,
What doe I ſee? what hard mithap is this,
That hath thee hether brought to taſte mine yre?
Or thine the ſault, or mine the error is,
In ſtead of ſoe to wound my friend amis?
He anſwered nought, but in a traunce ſtill lay,
And on thofe guile ſull dazed eyes of his
The cloude of death did ſit. Which doen away,
He left him lying so, ne would no lenger ſtay.

But to the virgin comes, who all this while
Amaſed ſtands, her ſelfe so mockt to ſee
By him, who has the guerdon of his guile,
For so misfeigning her true knight to bee:
Yet is ſhe now in more perplexitie,
Left in the hand of that fame Paynim bold,
From whom her booteth not at all to ſlie;
Who by her cleanly garment catching hold,
Her from her Palfrey pluckt, her viſage to behold.

But her ſiers ſeruant full of kingly aw
And high diſdaine, whenas his ſoueraine Dame
So rudely handled by her ſoe he ſaw,
With gaping iawes full greedy at him came,

And

The first Booke of Cant. III.

44

And ramping on his shield, did weene the fame
Haue reft away with his sharpending clawses:
But he was stout, and luft did now inflame
His corage more, that frô his griping pawes (drawes)
He hath his shield redeemd, and forth his swerd he

O then too weake and feeble was the forſe
Offaluage beaſt, his puiffance to withstand:
For he was strong, and of ſo mightie corſe,
As euer wielded ſpeare in warlike hand,
And feates of armes did wifely vnderstand.
Eſt ſoones he perced through his chaufed cheſt
With thrilling point of deadly yron brand,
And launcht his Lordly hart: with death oppreſt
He ror'd aloud, whiles life forſooke his ſtubborne breſt.

Who now is left to keepe the forlorne maid
From raging ſpoile of lawleſſe victors will?
Her faithfull gard remou'd, her hope diſmaid,
Her ſelſe a yielded pray to ſaue or ſpill.
He now Lord of the field, his pride to fill,
With foule reproches, and diſdaineſt ſpight
Her vildly entertaines, and will or nill,
Beares her away vpon his courser light:
Her prayers nought preuaile, his rage is more of might,

And all the way, with great lamenting paine,
And piteous plaintes ſhe filleth his dull eares,
That ſtony hart could riuen haue in twaine,
And all the way ſhe wetts with flowing teares:
But he enrag'd with rancor, nothing heares.
Her ſeruile beaſt yet would not leaue her ſo,
But followes her far of, ne ought he feares,
To be partaker of her wandring woe,
More mild in beaſtly kind, then that her beaſtly foe.

Cant.

the Faerie Queene.

Cant. IIII.

Can. IIII.

45

To sinfull hous of Pryde, Dueſſa
guydes the faithfull knight,
Where brothers death to Wreak Sanſioy
doth chaleng him to fight.

Y
Oung knight, what euer that doſt armes proſeſſe,
And through long labours hunteſt after fame,
Beware of fraud, beware of ſicklenſe,
In choice, and chaunge of thy deare loued Dame,
Leaſt thou of her belieue too lightly blame,
And rath miſweening doe thy hart remoue:
For vnto knight there is no greater ſhame,
Then lightneſſe and inconstancie in loue;
That doth this Redcroſſe knights enſample plainly proue

Who after that he had faire Vna lorne,
Through light miſdeeming of her loialtie,
And ſale Dueſſa in her ſted had borne,
Called Fideſſ, and ſo ſuppoſd to be;
Long with her traueld, till at laſt they ſee
A goodly building, braulye garniſhed,
The houſe of mightie Prince it ſeemd to be:
And towards it a broad high way that led,
Allbare through peoples feet, which thether trauciled.

Great troupes of people traueld thetherward
Both day and night, of each degree and place,
But few returned, hauing ſcaped hard,
With balefull beggery, or ſoule diſgrace,

Which

46 The first Booke of Cant. IIII.

Which euer after in most wretched care,
Like loathsome lazars, by the hedges lay.
Thether Dneffa badd him bend his pace:
For she is wearie of the toilsom way,
And also nigh consumed is the lingring day.

A stately Pallace built of squared bricke,
Which cunningly was without morter laid,
Whose wals were high, but nothing strong, nor thick
And golden foile all ouer them displaid,
That purest skye with brightneſſe they diſmaid:
High lifted vp were many loftie towres,
And goodly galleries far ouer laid,
Full of faire windowes, and delightful bowres;
And on the top a Diall told the timely howres.

It was a goodly heape for to behould,
And spake the praifes of the workmans witt,
But full great pittie, that so faire a mould
Did on so weake foundation euer ſitt:
For on a sandie hill, that ſtill did flitt,
And fall away, it mounted was full hie,
That euery breath of heauen ſhaked itt:
And all the hinder partes, that few could ſpie,
Were ruinons and old, but painted cunningly.

Arriued there they paffed in forth right;
For ſtill to all the gates ſtood open wide,
Yet charge of them was to a Porter hight
Cald Maluenu, who entrance none denide:
Thence to the hall, which was on euery ſide
With rich array and costly arras dight:
Infinite fortes of people did abide
There waiting long, to win the wifned fight
Of her, that was the Lady of that Pallace bright.

By

Cant. IIII. the Faery Queene. 47

By them they paffe, all gazing on them round,
And to the Prefence mount; whose glorious vew
Their frayle amaz'd ſenes did confound:
In liuing Princes court none euer knew
Such endleſſe richeſſe, and so ſumpteous ſhew;
Ne Perſia ſelfe, the nourse of pompous pride
Like euer ſaw. And there a noble crew
Of Lords and Ladies ſtood on euery ſide,
(tifide. Which with their preſence fayre, the place much beau-

High aboue all a cloth of State was ſpred,
And a rich throne, as bright as funny day,
On which there ſate moſt braue embellilhed
With royall robes and gorgeous array,
A mayden Queene, that ſhone as *Titans* ray,
In gliftring gold, and pereleſſe pretious ſtone;
Yet her bright blazing beautie did affay
To dim the brightneſſe of her glorious throne,
As enuying her ſelfe, that too exceeding ſhone.

Exceeding ſhone, like Phæbus fayreſt childe,
That did preſume his fathers fyrie wayne,
And flaming mouthes of ſteedes vnwonted wilde
Through higheſt heauen with weaker hand to rayne,
Proud of ſuch glory and aduancement vayne,
While flashing beames do daze his feeble eyen,
He leaues the welkin way moſt beaten playne,
And rapt with whirling wheeles, inflames the skyen,
With fire not made to burne, but fayrely for to ſhyne.

So proud ſhe ſhyned in her princely ſtate,
Looking to heauen; for earth ſhe did diſdayne,
And fitting high; for lowly ſhe did hate:
Lo vnder neath her ſcornefull ſeete, was layne

D

A

The first Booke of

Cant. II, III,

A dreadfull Dragon with an hideous trayne,
And in her hand the helld a mirrhour bright,
Wherein her face the often vewed fayne,
And in her selfe-lou'd semblance tooke delight;
For she was wondrous faire, as any liuing wight.

Of grieously Pluto the daughter was,
And fad Proserpina the Queene of hell;
Yet did she thinke her peareleſſe worth to pas
That parentage, with pride so did she ſwell,
And thundring Ioue, that high in heauen doth dwell,
And wield the world, the claymed for her ſyre,
Or if that any else did Ioue excell:
For to the highest she did ſtill afpyre,
Or if ought higher were then that, did it deſyre.

And proud Lucifera men did her call,
That made her ſelfe a Queene, and crowd to be,
Yet rightfull kingdome she had none at all,
Ne heritage of native ſoueraintie,
But did vſurpe with wrong and tyrannie
Vpon the ſcepter, which she now did hold:
Ne ruld her Realme with lawes, but pollicie,
And ſtrong aduizement of ſix wifards old,
That with their counſels bad her kingdome did vphold.

Soone as the Elſin knight in preſence came,
And ſalſe Dueſſa ſeeming Lady fayre,
A gentle Hufher, Vanitie by name
Made rowme, and paſſage for them did prepaire:
So goodly brought them to the loweſt ſtayre
Of her high throne, where they on humble knee
Making obeyſaunce, did the cauſe declare,
Why they were come, her roiall ſtate to ſee,
To proue the wide report of her great Maiestee.

With

the Faerie Queene.

With loftie eyes, halſe loth to looke so lowe,
She thancked them in her diſdaineſull wife,
Ne other grace vouchſafed them to ſhowe
Of Princesſe worthy, ſcarſe them bad arise.
Her Lordes and Ladies all this while deuife
Themselues to ſetten forth to ſtraungers fight:
Some ſrounce their curled heare in courtly guife,
Some prancke their ruffes, and others trimly dight
Their gay attyre: each others greater pride does ſpight.

Goodly they all that knight doe entertaine,
Right glad with him to haue increaſt their crew;
But to Dueſſ each one himſelfe did payne
All kindneſſe and faire courteſie to ſhew;
For in that court whylome her well they knew:
Yet the ſtout Faery mongſt the middeſt crowd
Thought all their glorie vaine in knightly vew,
And that great Princesſe too exceeding prowd,
That to ſtrange knight no better countenance allowd.

Suddein vprifeth from her ſtately place
The roiall Dame, and for her coche doth call;
All hurtlen forth, and ſhe with princely pace,
As faire Aurora in her purple pall,
Out of the Eaſt the dawning day doth call:
So forth ſhe comes: her brightnes brode doth blaze,
The heapes of people thronging in the hall,
Doe ride each other, vpon her to gaze:
Her glorious glitterand light doth all mens eies amaze.

So forth ſhe comes, and to her coche does clyme,
Adorned all with gold, and girlonds gay,
That ſeemd as fresh as Flora in her prime,
And ſtroue to match, in roiall rich array,

Great

D 2

50

Great Iunoes golden chayre, the which they fay
The Gods stand gazing on, when she does ride
To Ioues high hous through heauens bras paused way
Drawne of fayre Pecocks, that excell in pride,
And full of Argus eyes their tayles dispredden wide.

But this was drawne of fix vnequall beafts,
On which her fix sage Counsellours did ryde,
Taught to obay their beftiall behafts,
With like conditions to their kindes applye:
Of which the firft, that all the reft did guyde,
Was fluggish Idlenesse the nourse of fin;
Vpon a flouthfull Affe he chose to ryde,
Arayd in habit blacke, and amis thin,
Like to an holy Monck, the seruice to begin.

And in his hand his Porteffe still he bare,
That much was worne, but therein little redd,
For of deuotion he had little care,
Still drownd in sleepe, and moft of his daies dedd;
Scarfe could he once vphold his heauie hedd,
To looken, whether it were night or day:
May seeme the wayne was very euill ledd,
When such an one had guiding of the way,
That knew not, whether right he went, or else astray.

From worldly cares himselve he did effloyne,
And greatly shunned manly exercife,
From euerie worke he challenged effloyne,
For contemplation fake: yet otherwife,
His life he led in lawleffe riotife;
By which he grew to grieuous malady;
For in his luftleffe limbs through euill guife
A shaking feuer raignd continually:
Such one was Idlenesse, firft of this company.

And

51

Cant. IIII. the Faery Queene.

And by his side rode loathsome Gluttony,
Deformed creature, on a filthie swyne,
His belly was vpblowne with luxury;
And eke with fatneſſe swollen were his eyne,
And like a Crane his necke was long and fyne,
With which he swallowd vp exceſſue beaſt,
For want whereof poore people oft did pyne,
And all the way, moſt like a brutiſh beaſt,
He spued vp his gorge, that all did him deteaſt.

In greene vine leaues he was right fitly clad;
For other clothes he could not weare for heat,
And on his head an yuie girland had,
From vnder which faſt trickled downe the sweat:
Still as he rode, he somewhat ſtill did eat,
And in his hand did beare a bouzing can,
Of which he ſupt so oft, that on his ſeat
His dronken course he ſcarſe vpholden can,
In ſhape and life more like a monster, then a man.

Vnſit he was for any wordly thing,
And eke vnhable once to ſtirre or go,
Not meet to be of counſell to a king,
Whose mind in meat and drinke was drowned so,
That from his frend he ſeeldome knew his ſo :
Full of diſeaſes was his carcas blew,
And a dry dropſie through his fleſh did flow,
Which by miſdiet daily greater grew:
Such one was Gluttony, the ſecond of that crew.

And next to him rode luſtfull Lechery,
Vpon a bearded Gote, whose rugged heare,
And whally eies (the ſigne of gelofy,)
Was like the perſon ſelfe, whom he did beare:

D 3

Who

52 The first Booke of Cant. II II.

Who rough, and blacke, and filthy did appeare,
Vnfeemely man to pleafe faire Ladies eye;
Yet he of Ladies oft was loued deare,
When fairer faces were bid standen by:
O who does know the bent of womens fantafy?

In a greene gowne he clothed was full faire,
Which vnderneath did hide his filthinesse,
And in his hand a burning hart he bare,
Full of vaine follies, and new fangleneffe;
For he was falfe, and fraught with fickleneffe,
And learned had to loue with secret lookes,
And well could daunce, and fing with ruefulueffe,
And fortunes tell, and read in louing bookes,
And thoufand other waies, to bait his fleshly hookes.

Inconstant man, that loued all he saw,
And lufted after all, that he did loue,
Ne would his loofer life be tide to law,
But ioyd weake wemens hearts to tempt, and proue
If from their loyall loues he might them moue;
Which lewdnes fild him with reprochfull pain
Of that foule euill, which all men reproue,
That rotts the marrow, and consumes the braine:
Such one was Lechery, the third of all this traine.

And greedy *Auarice* by him did ride,
Vppon a Camell loaden all with gold;
Two iron coffets hong on either side,
With precious metall full, as they might hold,
And in his lap an heap of coine he told;
For of his wicked pelpe his God he made,
And vnto hell him felfe for money fold;
Accursed vflury was all his trade,
And right and wrong ylike in equall ballaunce waide.

His

53

Cant. III I. the Faery Queene:

His life was nigh vnto deaths dore yplast[e],
And thred-bare cote, and cobled shoes hee ware,
Ne scarfe good morfell all his life did tafte,
But both from backe and belly still did spare,
To fill his bags, and richeffe to compare;
Yet childe ne kinfman liuing had he none
To leaue them to; but thorough daily care
To get, and nightly feare to lofe his owne,
He led a wretched life vnto him felfe vnknowne.

Most wretched wight, whom nothing might suffise,
Whofe greedy luft did lacke in greateft tore,
Whofe need had end, but no end couetife,
Whofe welth was want, whofe plety made him pore,
Who had enough, yett wifhed euer more,
A vile difeafe, and eke in foore and hand
A grieuous gout tormented him full tore,
That well he could not touch, nor goe, nor stand:
Such one was *Auarice*, the forth of this faire band.

And next to him malicious *Enuy* rode,
Vpon a rauenous wolfe, and still did chaw
Betweene his cankred teeth a venemous tode,
That all the poifon ran about his chaw;
But inwardly he chawed his owne maw
At neibors welth, that made him euer sad;
For death it was, when any good he saw,
And wept, that caufe of weeping none he had,
But when he heard of harme, he wexed wondrous glad.

All in a kirtle of difcolourd fay
He clothed was, ypaynted full of eies;
And in his boſome secretly there lay
An hatefull Snake, the which his taile vptyes

D 4

In

54

In many folds, and mortall sting implyes.
Still as he rode, he gnaft his teeth, to see
Theose heapes of gold with griple Couetyse,
And grudged at the great felicite
Of proud Lucifera, and his owne companee.

He hated all good workes and vertuous deeds,
And him no leffe, that any like did vse,
And who with gratious bread the hungry feeds,
His almes for want of faith he doth accuse;
So euery good to bad he doth abuse:
And eke the verse of famous Poets witt
He does backebite, and spightfull poison spues
From leprous mouth on all, that euer writt:
Such one vile Enuy was, that first in row did fitt.

And him beside rides fierce reuenging Wrath,
Vpon a Lion, loth for to be led;
And in his hand a burning brond he hath,
The which he brandifeth about his hed;
His eies did hurle forth sparcles fiery red;
And stared sterne on all, that him beheld,
As athes pale of hew and feeming ded;
And on his dagger still his hand he held,
Trebling through hafty rage, when choler in him sweld.

His ruffin raiment all was staind with blood,
Which he had spilt, and all to rags yrent,
Through vnaduized rathnes woxen wood;
For of his hands he had no gouernement,
Ne car'd for blood in his auengement:
But when the furious fitt was ouerpaft,
His cruell fads he often would repent;
Yet wilfull man he neuer would forecaft,
How many mischieues should enfue his heedleffe haft.

Full

the Faery Queene

Cant. IIII.

Full many mischiefes follow cruell Wrath;
Abhorred bloodshed, and tumultuous strife,
Vnmanly murder, and vnthrifty feath,
Bitter despight, with rancours rufy knife,
And fretting griefe the enemy of life,
All these, and many euils moe haunt ire,
The swelling Splene, and Frenzy raging rife,
The shaking Palfey, and Saint Fraunces fire:
Such one was Wrath, the last of this vngodly tire.

And after all vpon the wagon beame
Rode Sathan, with a smarting whip in hand,
With which he forward laft the laest teme,
So oft as Slowth still in the mire did stand.
Huge routs of people did about them band,
Showting for ioy, and still before their way
A foggy mift had couered all the land;
And vnderneath their feet, all scattered lay
Dead sculls & bones of men, whose life had gone astray.

So forth they marchen in this goodly fort,
To take the solace of the open aire,
And in freth flowring fields themselues to sport;
Emongt the reft rode that falfe Lady faire,
The foule Dueſa, next vnto the chaire
Of proud Lucifer, as one of the traine:
But that good knight would not so nigh repaire,
Him ſelfe eſtraunging from their ioyaunce vaine,
Whose fellowship ſeemd far vnfit for warlike ſwaine.

So having solaced themſelues a space,
With pleasaunce of the breathing fields yfed,
They backe retourned to the princely Place;
Whereas an errant knight in armes ycled,

And

The first Booke of

Cant. II. III.

56

And heathnith shield, wherein with letters red
Was writt Sans ioy, they new arrived find:
Enflam'd with fury and fiers hardy hed,
He seemd in hart to harbour thoughts vnkind,
And nourish bloody vengeaunce in his bitter mind.

Who when the shamed shield oflaine Sans foy
He spide with that fame Fary champions page,
Bewraying him, that did of late destroy
His eldeft brother, burning all with rage
He to him lept, and that fame enuious gage
Of victors glory from him snacht away:
But th' Elfin knight, which ought that warlike wage,
Disdaind to loose the meed he wonne in fray,
And him rencountring fierce, refkewd the noble pray.

Therewith they gan to hurtlen greedily,
Redoubted battaile ready to darrayne,
And claff their shields, and shake their swerds on hy,
That with their sturre they troubled all the traine;
Till that great Queene vpon eternall paine
Of high displeasure, that enfewen might,
Commaunded them their fury to refraine,
And if that either to that shield had right,
In equall lifts they should the morrow next it fight.

Ah deareft Dame, qd. then the Paynim bold, '
Pardon the error of enraged wight,
Whome great griefe made forgett the raines to hold
Of reafons, rule, to see this recreaunt knight,
No knight, but treachour full of falfe defpight
And shameful treason, who through guile hath flayn
The proweft knight, that euer field did fight,
Euen ftout Sans foy (O who can then refrayn?) (dayn.
Whose shield he beares renuerst, the more to heap dif-
And

the Faëry Queene.

57

Cant. IIIII.

And to augment the glorie of his guile,
His deareft loue the faire Fideſſa loe
Is there posſeſſed of the traytour vile,
Who repes the harueſt sowen by his foe,
Sowen in bloodie field, and bought with woe:
That brothers hand ſhall dearely well requight
So be, O Queene, you equall fauour ſhowe.
Him little anſwerd th' angry Elfin knight; (right)
He neuer meant with words, but ſwords to plead his

But threw his gauntlet as a ſacred pledge,
His cauſe in combat the next day to try:
So been they parted both, with harts on edg,
To be aueng'd each on his enimy.
That night they pas in ioy and iollity,
Feasting and courting both in bowre and hall;
For Steward was exceſſiue Gluttony,
That of his plenty poured forth to all; (call.
Which doen, the Chamberlain Slowth did to reſt them

Now whenas darkeſome night had all diſplayd
Her coleblacke curtein ouer brighteſt ſkye,
The warlike youthes on dayntie couches layd,
Did chace away ſweet ſleepe from fluggiſh eye,
To muſe on meanes of hoped victory.
But whenas Morpheus had with leaden mace,
Arreſted all that courtly company,
Vproſe Dueſſa from her reſting place,
And to the Paynims lodging comes with ſilent pace.

Whom broad awake the findes, in troublous fitt,
Forecaſting, how his foe he might annoy,
And him amoues with ſpeaches ſeeming fitt:
Ah deare Sans ioy, next deareſt to Sans foy,

Caufe

58

The first Booke of

Cant. III.

Caufe of my new griefe, caufe of new ioy,
Ioyous, to see his ymage in mine eye,
And greeud, to thinke how foe did him deſtroy,
That was the flowre of grace and cheualrye;
Lo his Fideſſa to thy ſecret faith I flye.

With gentle wordes he can her fayrely greet,
And bad ſay on the ſecrete of her hart.
Then ſighing ſoft, I learne that little ſweet
Oſt tempred is (quoth ſhe) with muchell ſmart:
For ſince my breſt was launcht with louely dart
Of deare Sanſoy, I neuer ioyed howre,
But in eternall woes my weaker hart
Haue waſted, louing him with all my powre,
And for his ſake haue felt full many an heauie ſtowre.

At laſt when perils all I weened paſt,
And hop'd to reape the crop of all my care,
Into new woes vnweeting I was caſt,
By this ſalse faytor, who vnworthie ware
His worthie ſhield, whom he with guilefull ſnare
Entrapped ſlew, and brought to ſhamefull graue.
Me filly maid away with him he bare,
And euer ſince hath kept in darkſom caue,
For that I would not yeeld, that to Sanſoy I gaue.

But ſince faire Sunne hath ſperſt that lowring clowd,
And to my loathed life now ſhewes ſome light,
Vnder your beames I will me ſafely ſhrowd,
From dreaded ſtorme of his diſdainfull ſpight:
To you th'inheritance belonges by right
Of brothers prayſe, to you eke longes his loue.
Let not his loue, let not his restleſſe ſpight,
Be vnreueng'd, that calles to you aboue (moue)

From wandring Stygian ſhores, where it doth endleſſe
Thereto

59

Cant. III.

the Faery Queene.

Thereto ſaid he, faire Dame be nought difmaid
For ſorrowes paſt, their griefe is with them gone:
Neyet of preſent perill be affraid:
For needleſſe ſeare did neuer vantage none,
And helpleſſe hap it booteth not to mone.
Dead is Sanſoy, his vitall paines are paſt,
Though greeued ghoff for vengeance deep do grone
He liues, that ſhall him pay his dewties laſt,
And guiltie Elſin blood ſhall ſacrifice in haſt.

O But I ſeare the fickle freakes (quoth ſhee)
Of fortune ſalse, and oddes of armes in field.
Why dame (quoth he) what oddes can euer bee,
Where both doe fight alike, to win or yield?
Yea but (quoth ſhe) he beares a charmed ſhield,
And eke enchaunted armes, that none can perce,
Ne none can wound the man, that does them wield.
Charmd or enchaunted (anſwerd he then ſerce)
I no whitt reck, ne you the like need to reherce.

But faire Fideſſa, ſithens fortunes guile,
Or enimies powre hath now captiued you,
Returne from whence ye came, and reſt a while
Till morrow next, that I the Elſe ſubdew,
And with Sanſoyes dead dowry you endew.
Ay me, that is a double death (the ſaid)
With proud foes fight my ſorrow to renew:
Where euer yet I be, my ſecrete aide
Shall follow you. So paſſing forth the him obaid.

Cant.

60

The first Booke of
Cant V.

Cant. V.

T
He noble hart, that harbours vertuous thought,
And is with childe of glorious great intent,
Can neuer rest, vntill it forth haue brought
Th'eternall brood of glorie excellent:
Such restleſſe paſſion did all night torment
The flaming corage of that Faery knight,
Deuizing, how that doughtie turnament
With greateſt honour he atchieuen might;
Still did he wake, and ſtill did watch for dawning light,

At laſt the golden Orientall gate
Of greateſt heauen gan to open fayre,
And Phoebus fresh, as brydegrome to his mate,
Came dauncing forth, shaking his deawie hayre;
And hurls his gliftring beams through gloomy ayre.
Which wher the wakeful Elſe perceiud, ſtreight way
He ſtarted vp, and did him ſelſe prepayre,
In ſunbright armes, and battailous array:
For with that Pagan proud he combatt will that day.

And forth he comes into the commune hall,
Where earely waite him many a gazing eye,
To weet what end to ſtraunger knights may fall,
There many Minſtrales maken melody,

To

Cant. V.
the Faerie Queene.

61

To driue away the dull melancholy,
And many Bardes, that to the trembling chord
Can tune their timely voices cunningly,
And many Chroniclers, that can record
Old loues, and warres for Ladies doen by many a Lord.

Soone after comes the cruell Sarazin,
In wouen maile all armed warily,
And ſternly lookes at him, who not a pin
Does care for looke of liuing creatures eye.
They bring them wines of Greece and Araby,
And daintie ſpices fetcht from furtheſt Ynd,
To kindle heat of corage priuily:
And in the wine a ſolemne oth they bynd
T'obferue the ſacred lawes of armes, that are affynd.

At laſt forth comes that far renowmed Queene,
With royall pomp and princely maieltie;
She is ybrought vnto a paled greene,
And placed vnder ſtately canapee,
The warlike feates of both thoſe knights to ſee.
On th'other ſide in all mens open vew
Dueſſa placed is, and on a tree
Sam ſoy his ſhield is hangd with bloody hew:
Both thoſe the lawrell girlonds to the victor dew.

A ſhrilling trompett ſownded from on hye,
And vnto battaill bad them ſelues addreſſe:
Their ſhining ſhieldes about their wrestes they tye,
And burning blades about their heades doe bleſſe,
The instruments of wrath and heauineſſe:
With greedy force each other doth affayle,
And ſtrike ſo fiercely, that they doe imprefſſe
Deepe tinted furrowes in the battred mayle:
The yron walles to ward their blowes are weak & fraile.

The

62

The first Booke of Cant. V.

The Sarazin was stout, and wondrous strong,
And heaped blowes like yron hammers great:
For after blood and vengeance he did long.
The knight was fiers, and full of youthly heat,
And doubled strokes, like dreaded thunders threat:
For all for praise and honour he did fight.
Both stricken stryke, and beaten both doe beat,
That from their shields forth flyeth firie light,
And hewen helmets deepe stew marks of either might.

So th'one for wrong, the other stries for right:
As when a Gryfon seized of his pray,
A Dragon fiers encounstreth in his flight,
Through wideft ayre making his ydle way,
That would his rightfull rauine rend away:
With hideous horror both together smight,
And souce so fore, that they the heauens affray:
The wife Southfayer seeing so sad fight,
Th'amazed vulgar telles of warres and mortall fight.

So th'one for wrong, the other stries for right,
And each to deadly shame would driue his foe:
The cruell steele so greedily doth bight
In tender sth, that streames of blood down flow,
With which the armes, that earst so bright did strow
Into a pure vermillion now are dyde:
Great ruth in all the gazers harts did grow,
Seeing the gored woundes to gape so wyde,
That victory they dare not with to either fide.

At last the Paynim chaunft to caft his eye,
His fuddein eye, flaming with wrathfull fyre,
Vpon his brothers shield, which hong thereby:
Therewith redoubled was his raging yre,

And

the Faery Queene.

Cant. V.

And said, Ah wretched sonne of wofull fyre,
Doeft thou fit wayling by blacke Stygian lake,
Whyleft here thy shield is hangd for victors hyre,
And fluggish german doeft thy forces flake,
To after-fend his foe, that him may ouertake ?

Goe caytiue Elfe, him quickly ouertake,
And soone redeeme from his long wandring woe,
Goe guiltie ghoft, to him my meffage make,
That I his shield haue quit from dying foe.
Therewith vpon his creft he stroke him so,
That twife he reeled, readie twife to fall;
End of the doubtfull battaile deemed tho
The lookers on, and lowd to him gan call
The false Dueſſa, Thine the shield, and I, and all.

Soone as the Faerie heard his Ladie ſpeake,
Out of his ſwowning dreame he gan awake,
And quickning faith, that earſt was woxen weake,
The creeping deadly cold away did ſhake:
Tho mou'd with wrath, and ſhame, and Ladies ſake,
Of all atonce he caſt auengd to be,
And with so exceeding furie at him ſtrake,
That forced him to ſtoupe vpon his knee;
Had he not ſtouped so, he should haue clouen bee.

And to him said, Goen now proud Miſcreant,
Thy ſelfe thy meſlage do to german deare,
Alone he wandring thee too long doth want:
Goe ſay, his foe thy shield with his doth beare.
Therewith his heauie hand he high gan reare,
Him to haue ſlaine; when lo a darkeſome clowd
Vpon him fell: he no where doth appeare,
But vanifht is. The Elſe him calls alowd,

But anſwer none receiues: the darknes him does ſhowd

E

In

64 The first Booke of

Cant. V.

In haſte Dueſſa from her place aroſe,
And to him running ſayd, O proweſt knight,
That euer Ladie to her loue did choſe,
Let now abate the terour of your might,
And quench the flame of furious deſpight,
And bloodie vengeance; lo th'infernall powres
Couering your foe with cloud of deadly night,
Haue borne him hence to Plutoes balefull bowres.
The conqueſt yours, I yours, the ſhield, and gl'ory yours,

Not all ſo ſatiffide, with greedy eye
He ſought all round about, his thrifty blade
To bathe in blood of faithleſſe enimy;
Who all that while lay hid in ſecret ſhade :
He ſtandes amazed, how he thence ſhould fade.
At laſt the trumpets Triumph ſound on hie,
And running Heralds humble homage made,
Greeting him goodly with new victorie,
And to him brought the ſhield, the cauſe of enmitie,

Wherewith he goeth to that ſoueraine Queene,
And falling her before on lowly knee,
To her makes preſent of his ſeruice ſeene :
Which the accepts, with thankes, and goodly gree,
Greatly aduauncing his gay cheualree.
So marcheth home, and by her takes the knight,
Whom all the people followe with great glee,
Shouting, and clapping all their hands on hight,
That all the ayre it fils, and flyes to heauen bright.

Home is he brought, and layd in ſumptuous bed:
Where many skilſull leaches him abide,
To ſalue his hurts, that yet ſtill freshly bled.
In wine and oyle they waſh his woundes wide,

And

Cant. V. the Faerie Queene.

And softly gan embalme on euercide.
And all the while, moſt heauenly melody
About the bed ſweet muſicke did diuide,
Him to beguile of griefe and agony :
And all the while Dueſſa wept full bitterly.

As when a wearie traueiler that ſtrayes
By muddy shore of broad ſeuen-mouthed Nile,
Vnweeting of the perillous wandring wayes,
Doth meete a cruell craftie Crocodile,
Which in falſe griefe hyding his harmeſull guile,
Doth weepe full ſore, and ſheddeth tender teares :
The ſoolſiſh man, that pitties all this while
His mourneſull plight, is ſwallowd vp vnwares,
Forgetfull of his owne, that mindes an others cares.

So wept Dueſſa vntill euentyde,
That ſhyning lampes in Joues high houſe were light:
Then forth ſhe roſe, ne lenger would abide,
But comes vnto the place, where th'Hethen knight
In ſlombring ſwownd nigh voyd of vitall ſpright,
Lay couer'd with inchaunted cloud all day :
Whom when ſhe found, as ſhe him left in plight,
To wayle his wofull caſe ſhe would not ſtay,
But to the Eaſterne coaſt of heauen makes ſpeedy way.

Where grieſely Night, with viſage deadly ſad,
That Phæbus cheareſſull ſace durſt neuer vew,
And in a foule blacke pitchy mantle clad,
She findeſt forth comming from her darkſome mew,
Where ſhe all day did hide her hated hew.
Before the dore her yron charet ſtood,
Already harneffed for iourney new;
And coleblacke ſteedes yborne of helſiſh brood,
That on their ruſty bits did champ, as they were wood.

Who

E 2

65

The first Booke of

Cant. V.

66

Who when she saw Dueſſa funny bright,
Adornd with gold and iewels ſhining cleare,
She greatly grew amazed at the fight,
And th'vnacquainted light began to ſeare:
For neuer did ſuch brightnes there appeare,
And would haue backe retyred to her caue,
Vntill the witches ſpeach ſhe gan to heare,
Saying, yet O thou dreaded Dame, I craue
Abyde, till I haue told the meſſage, which I haue,

She ſtayd, and foorth Dueſſa gan proceede,
O thou moſt auncient Grandmother of all,
More old then Ioue, whom thou at first didſt breede,
Or that great houſe of Gods caeleſtiall,
Which waſt begot in Damogorgons hall,
And ſawſt the ſecrets of the world vnmade,
Why ſuffredſt thou thy Nephewes deare to fall
With Elſin ſword, moſt ſhamefully betrade ?
Lo where the ſtout Sanſoy doth ſleepe in deadly ſhade.

And him before, I ſaw with bitter eyes
The bold Sanſoy ſhrinck vnderneath his ſpeare;
And now the pray of fowles in field he lyes,
Nor wayld of friends, nor layd on groning beare,
That whylome was to me too dearely deare.
O what of Gods then boots it to be borne,
If old Aveugles ſonnes ſo cuill heare ?
Or who ſhall not great Nightes children ſcorne,
When two of three her Nephews are ſo fowle forlorne.

Vp then, vp dreary Dame, of darknes Queene,
Go gather vp the reliques of thy race,
Or eſſe goe them auenge, and let be ſeene,
That dreaded Night in brighteſt day hath place,

And

Cant. V.

the Faery Queene.

And can the children of fayre light deface.
Her feeling ſpeaches ſome comſaffion mou'd
In hart, and chaunge in that great mothers face:
Yet pitty in her hart was neuer prou'd
Till then: for euermore ſhe hated, neuer lou'd.

And ſaid, Deare daughter rightly may I rew
The fall of famous children borne of mce,
And good ſuccesſes, which their foes enſew:
But who can turne the ſtreame of deſtinee,
Or breake the chayne of ſtrong neceſſitee,
Which ſaſt is tyde to Ioues eternall ſeat.
The ſonnes of Day he ſauoureth, I ſee,
And by my ruines thinkes to make them great:
To make one great by others loſſe, is bad excheat.

Yet ſhall they not eſcape ſo freely all;
For ſome ſhall pay the price of others guilt:
And he the man that made Sanſoy to fall,
Shall with his owne blood price, that he hath ſpilt.
But what art thou, that telt of Nephews kilt ?
I that do ſeeme not I, Dueſſa ame,
Quoth ſhe, how euer now in garments gilt,
And gorgeous gold arayd I to thee came;
Dueſſa I, the daughter of De receipt and Shame.

Then bowing downe her aged backe, ſhe kift
The wicked witch, ſaying, In that fayre face
The falſe ſemblaunce of De receipt, I wift
Did closely lurke ; yet ſo true ſeeming grace
It carried, that I ſcarſe in dark ſome place
Could it diſcerne, though I the mother bee
Of ſaſhood, and roote of Dueſſaes race.
O welcome child, whom I haue longd to ſee,
And now haue ſeene vnwares. Lo now I goe with thee.

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Then to her yron wagon she betakes,
And with her beares the fowle welfauourd witch:
Through mirkefome aire her ready way she makes.
Her twyfold Teme, of which two blacke as pitch,
And two were browne, yet each to each vnlich,
Did softly swim away, ne euer stamp,
Vnleffe she chaufift their ftubborne mouths to twitch,
Then foming tarre, their bridles they would champ,
And trampling the fine element, would fiercely ramp.

So well they fped, that they be come at length
Vnto the place, whereas the Paynim lay,
Deuoid of outward fence, and native strength,
Couerd with charmed cloud from vew of day,
And fight of men, ſince his late luckeleffe fray.
His cruell wounds with cruddy bloud congeald,
They binden vp so wifely, as they may,
And handle softly, till they can be heald:
So lay him in her charett, close in night conceald.

And all the while ſhe ſtood vpon the grouud,
The wakefull dogs did neuer ceafe to bay,
As giuing warning of th'vnwonted found,
With which her yron wheeles did them affray,
And her darke grieſly looke them much diſmay,
The meſſenger of death, the ghaſtly owle
With drery ſhriekes did alſo her bewray;
And hungry wolues continually did howle,
At her abhorred face, ſo filrhy and ſo fowle.

Thence turning backe in ſilence ſofte they ſtole,
And brought the heavy corſe with eafy pace
To yawning gulſe of deepe *Auernus* hole.
By that ſame hole an entraunce darke and bace

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the Faery Queene:

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With ſmoake and sulphur hiding all the place,
Descends to hell: there creature neuer paſt,
That backe retourned without heauenly grace;
But dreadfull *Furies*, which their chaines haue brafſ,
And damned ſprights ſent forth to make ill men aghaſt.

By that ſame way the diſefull dames doe driue
Their mourneſull charett, ſild with rufſy blood,
And downe to *Plutoes* house are come bilieue:
Which paſſing through, on euery ſide them ſtood
The trembling ghoſts with ſad amazed mood,
Chattring their iron teeth, and ſtaring wide
With ſtony eies; and all the helliſh brood
Oſſeends infernall flockt on euery ſide,
To gaze on ertly wight, that with the Night durſt ride.

They pas the bitter waues of *Acheron*,
Where many ſoules ſit wailing woefully,
And come to fiery flood of *Phlegeton*,
Whereas the damned ghoſts in torments fry,
And with ſharp ſtrilling ſhriekes doe bootleſſe cry,
Curfing high *Tome*, the which them thither ſent.
The houſe of endleſſe paine is built thereby,
In which ten thouſand ſorts of puniſhment
The curſed creatures doe eternally torment.

Before the threshold dreadfull *Cerberus*
His three deſormed heads did lay along,
Curled with thouſand adders venemous,
And lilled forth his bloody flaming tong:
At them he gan to reare his brilſles ſtrong,
And ſelly gnarre, vntill Dayes enemy
Did him appeaſe; then downe his taile he hong
And ſuffered them to paffen quietly:
For ſhe in hell and heauen had power equally.

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There was Ixion turned on a wheele,
For daring tempt the Queene of heauen to sin;
And Sisyphus an huge round stone did reele
Against an hill, ne might from labour lin;
There thrifty Tantalus hong by the chin;
And Tityus fed a vultur on his maw;
Typhæus ioynts were stretched on a gin,
Theus condemned to endlesse flouth by law
And fifty fifters water in lete veffels draw.

They all beholding worldly wights in place,
Leaue off their worke, vnmindfull of their ſmart,
To gaze on them, who forth by them doe pace,
Till they be come vnto the furtheſt part:
Where was a Caue ywrought by wondrous art,
Deepe, darke, vneaſy, dolefull, comforteſſe,
In which ſad Aſculapius far apart
Emprisond was in chaines remedileſſe,
For that Hippolytus rent corſe he did redreſſe.

Hippolytus a jolly huntſman was,
That wont in charett chace the ſoming bore;
He all his Peeres in beauty did ſurpas,
But Ladies loue as loſſe of time forbore:
His wanton ſtepdame loued him the more,
But when he ſaw her offred ſweets reſuſd
Her loue ſhe turnd to hate, and him before
His father ſierce of treaſon ſaſſe accuſd,
And with her gealous termes his open eares abuſd.

Who all in rage his Sea-god ſyre befought,
Some curſed vengeaunce on his ſonne to caſt:
Frō ſurging gulf two Moſters ſtreight were brought,
With dread whereof his chacing ſteedes aghaſt,
Both

the Faëry Queene

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Both charett ſwifte and huntſman ouercaſt.
His goodly corps on ragged clifts yrent,
Was quite diſmembred, and his members chaſt
Scattered on euery mountaine, as he went,
That of Hippolytus was leſte no moniment.

His cruell ſtepdame ſeeing what was donne,
Her wicked daies with wretched knife did end,
In death auowing th'innocence of her ſonne.
Which hearing his rafh Syre, began to rend
His heare, and haſty tong, that did offend:
Tho gathering vp the relicks of his ſmart
By Diames meanes, who was Hippolytus ſrend,
Them brought to Aſculape, that by his art
Did heale them all againe, and ioyned euery part.

Such wondrous ſcience in mans witt to rain
When Ioue auizd, that could the dead revine,
And fates expired could renew again,
Of endleſſe life he might him not depriue,
But vnto hell did thrufft him downe aliue,
With flashing thunderbolt ywounded ſore:
Where long remaining, he did alwaies ſtruiue
Him ſelfe with ſalues to health for to reſtore,
And ſlake the heauenly ſire, that raged euermore.

There auncient Night arriuing, did alight
From her nigh weary wayne, and in her armes
To Aſculapius brought the wounded knight:
Whome hauing softly diſaraid of armes,
Tho gan to him diſcouer all his harmes,
Befeeching him with prayer, and with priaſe,
If either ſalues, or oyles, or herbes, or charmes
A for Jonne wight from dore of death mote raſſe,
He would at her requeſt prolong her nephews daies.

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Ah Dame (qd. he) thou temptest me in vaine,
To dare the thing, which daily yet I rew,
And the old caufe of my continued paine
With like attempt to like end to renew.
Is not enough, that thrust from heauen dew
Here endlesse penaunce for one fault I pay,
But that redoubled crime with vengeaunce new
Thou biddest me to ceke? Can Night defray (day)
The wrath of thundring loue, that rules both night and

Not so (qd. she) but fith that heauens king
From hope of heauen hath thee excluded quight,
Why fearest thou, that canst not hope for thing,
And fearest not, that more thee hurten might,
Now in the powre of euerlafting Night?
Goe to then, O thou far renouned fonne
Of great Apollo, shew thy famous might
In medicine, that els hath to thee wonne
Great pains, and greater prouſe, both neuer to be donne.

Her words preuaild: And then the learned leach
His cunning hand gan to his wounds to lay,
And all things els, the which his art did teach:
Which hauing ſene, from thence aroſe away
The mother of dredd darkeneſſe, and let ſtay
Aueugles ſonne there in the leaches cure,
And backe retourning tooke her wonted way,
To ronne her timely race, whilſt Phoebus pure
In westerne waues his weary wagon did recure.

The falſe Dueſſa leaving noyous Night,
Returnd to ſtately pallace of Dame Pryde;
Where when ſhe came, ſhe found the Faery knight
Departed thence, albee his woundes wyde

Not

the Faery Queene.

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Cant. V.

Not throughfully heald, vnready were to ryde.
Good caufe he had to haſten thence away;
For on a day his waty Dwarſe had ſpyde,
Where in a dungeon deepe huge nombers lay
Of caytiue wretched thralls, that wayled night and day.

A ruefull fight, as could be ſene with eie;
Of whom he learned had in ſecret wife
The hidden caufe of their captiuitie,
How mortgaging their liues to Couetife,
Through waſtfull Pride, and wanton Riotife,
They were by law of that proud Tyraunneſſe
Prouokt with Wrath, and Enuyes false ſurmiſe,
Condemned to that Dongeon merciſeſſe,
Where they ſhould liue in wo, & dye in wretchedneſſe.

There was that great proud king of Babylon,
That would cempell all nations to adore,
And him as onely God to call vpon,
Till through celeſtiall doome thrown out of dore,
Into an Oxe he was transform'd of yore:
There alſo was king Cræſus, that enhauaſt
His hart too high through his great richeſſe ſtore;
And proud Antiochus, the which aduaunſt
His curled hand gainſt God, and on his altares daunſt.

And them long time before, great Nimrod was,
That firſt the world with ſword and fire warrayd;
And after him old Ninus far did pas
In princely pomp, of all the world obayd;
There alſo was that mightie Monarch layd
Low vnder all, yet aboue all in pride,
That name of native ſyre did fowle vpbrayd,
And would as Ammons ſonne be magniſide,
Till ſcord of God and man a ſhamefull death he dide.

All

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All these together in one heape were throwne,
Like carkafes of beaftes in butchers stall.
And in another corner wide were strowne
The Antique ruins of the Romanes fall:
Great Romulus the Grandfyre of them all,
Proud Tarquin, and too lordly Lentulus,
Stout Scipio, and stubborne Hanniball,
Ambitious Sylla, and fterne Martus,
High Caefar, great Pompey, and fiers Antonius.

Amongst these mightie men were wemen mixt,
Proud wemen, vaine, forgetfull of their yoke:
The bold Semiramis, whole fides tranffixt
With fonnes own blade, her fowle reproches spoke,
Fayre Sthenobœa, that her felfe did choke
With wilfull chord, for wanting of her will;
High minded Cleopatra, that with ſtroke
Of Aſpes ſting her felfe did ſtoutly kill:
(fill
And thouſands moe the like, that did that dongeon

Besides the endleſſe routes of wretched thralles,
Which thether were afflembled day by day,
From all the world after their woſull falles,
Through wicked pride, and waſted welthes decay.
But moſt of all, which in the Dongeon lay
Fell from high Princes courtes, or Ladies bowres,
Where they in ydle pomp, or wanton play,
Conſumed had their goods, and thriſtleſſe howres,
And laſtly thrown them ſelues into theſe heauy ſtowres.

Whofe cafe whenas the carefull Dwarſe had tould,
And made enſample of their mounſtull ſight
Vnto his maſter, he no lenger would
There dwell in perill of like paineſtull plight,

But

75

Cant. VI.

the Faery Queene.

But carely roſe, and ere that dawning light
Diſcouered had the world to heauen wyde,
He by a priuy Poſterne tooke his flight,
That of no enuious eyes he mote be ſpyde:
For doubtleſſe death enſewed, if any him deſcryde.

Scarſe could he footing find in that fowle way,
For many corſes, like a great Lay-stall
Of murdred men which therein ſtrowed lay,
Without remorſe, or decent funerall:
Which al through that great Princeſſe pride did fall
And came to ſhamefull end. And them beſyde
Forth ryding vnderneath the caſtell wall,
A Donghill of dead carcaſes he ſpyde,
The dreadfull ſpectacle of that ſad house of Pryde.

Can. VI.

From lawleſſe luſt by wondrous grace
fayre Una is releaſt.
Whom ſaluage nation does adore,
and learnes her wife beheaſt.

A
S when a ſhip, that flyes fayre vnder fayle,
An hidden rocke eſcaped hath vnwares,
That lay in waite her wrack for to bewaile,
The Marriner yet halſe amazed ſtares
At perill paſt, and yet it doubt ne dares
To ioy at his foolhappie ouerſight:
So doubly is diſtrefſ twixt ioy and cares
The dreadleſſe corage of this Elſin knight,
Hauing eſcapt ſo ſad enſamples in his ſight.

Yet

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Yet ſad he was, that his too haſtie ſpeed
The fayre Dueſſ' had forſt him leaue behind;
And yet more ſad, that Vna his deare dreed
Her truth had ſtaynd with treaſon ſo vnkind;
Yet cryme in her could neuer creature ſind,
But for his loue, and for her own ſelſe ſake,
She wandred had from one to other Rnd,
Him for to ſeeke, ne euer would forſake,
Till her vnwares the ſiers Sanſley did ouertake.

Who after Archimagoes fowle defeat,
Led her away into a foreſt wilde,
And turning wrathfull fyre to luſt full heat,
With beaſtly ſin thought her to haue deſilde,
And made the vassall of his pleaſures vilde.
Yet firſt he caſt by treatie, and by traynes,
Her to perſuade, that ſtubborne fort to yilde:
For greater conqueſt of hard loue he gaynes,
That workes it to his will, then he that it conſtraines.

With fawning wordes he courted her a while,
And looking louely, and oft ſhining ſore,
Her conſtant hart did tempt with diuerſe guile:
But wordes, and lookes, and ſighes ſhe did abhore,
As rock of Diamond ſtedt aſt euermore.
Yet for to feed his fyrie luſt full eye,
He ſnatcht the vele, that hong her face before;
Then gan her beautie ſhyne, as brighteſt skye,
And burnt his beaſtly hart t'efforce her chaſt iye.

So when he ſaw his flatt'ring artes to ſayle,
And ſubtile engines bett from batteree,
With greedy force he gan the fort aſſayle,
Whereof he weend poſſeſſe ſoone to bee,

And

Cant. VI.

the Faerie Queene.

77

And win rich ſpoile of ranſackt chaſt iee.
Ah heauens, that doe this hideous act behold,
And heauenly virgin thus outraged ſee,
How can ye vengeance iuſt ſo long withhold,
And hurle not flashing flames vpō that Paynim bold?

The pitteous mayden carefull comforteſſe,
Does throw out thrilling ſhriekes, and ſhrieking cryes,
The laſt vaine helpe of wemens great diſt reſſe,
And with loud plaintes importuneth the skyes,
That molten ſtarres doe drop like weeping eyes;
And Phæbus flying ſo moſt ſhamefull ſight,
His bluſhing face in foggy cloud implyes,
And hydes for ſhame. What witt of mortall wight
Can now deuife to quitt a thrall from ſuch a plight?

Eternall prouidence exceeding thought,
Where none appeares can make her ſelſe a way:
A wondrous way it for this Lady wrought,
From Lyons clawes to pluck the gryped pray.
Her ſhrill outcryes and ſhrieks ſo loud did bray,
That all the woodes and foreſtes did reſownd;
A troupe of Faunes and Satyres far a way
Within the wood were dauncing in a rownd,
Whiles old Syluanus ſlept in ſhady arber ſownd,

Who when they heard that pitteous ſtrained voice,
In haſte for ſooke their rurall meriment,
And ran towardes the far rebownded noyce,
To weet, what wight ſo loudly did lament.
Vnto the place they come incontinent:
Whom when the raging Sarazin eſpyde,
A rude, miſhappen, monſtrous rablement,
Whose like he neuer ſaw, he durſt not by de,
But got his ready ſteed, and ſaſt away gan ryde.

The

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The wyld woodgods arriu'd in the place,
There find the virgin doolfull desolate,
With ruffled rayments, and fayre blubbred face,
As her outrageous foe had left her late,
And trembling yet through feare of former hate,
All stand amazed at so vncouth fight,
And gin to pittie her vnhappie state,
All stand aftonied at her beautie bright,
In their rude eyes vnworthy of so wofull plight,

She more amazd, in double dread doth dwell;
And euery tender part for feare does shake:
As when a greedy Wolfe through honger fell
A feely Lamb far from the flock does take,
Of whom he meanes his bloody feast to make,
A Lyon spyes faft running towards him,
The innocent pray in haft he does forfake,
Which quitt from death yet quakes in euery lim
With chaunge of feare, to see the Lyon looke so grim

Such feareful fitt affaid her trembling hart,
Neword to speake, ne ioynt to moue she had:
The saluage nation feele her secret smart,
And read her forrow in her count'nance sad;
Their frowning forheades with rough hornes yclad,
And ruftick horror all a fyde doe lay,
And gently grenning, shew a ſemblance glad
To comfort her, and feare to put away,
Their backward bent knees teach her humbly to obay.

The doubtfull Damzell dare not yet committ,
Her ſingle person to their barbarous truth,
But ſtill twixt feare and hope amazd does ſitt,
Late leard what harme to haſty truſt enſu'th,
They

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Cant. VI.

the Faery Queene:

They in compassion of her tender youth,
And wonder of her beautie ſouerayne,
Are wonne with pitty and vnwonted ruth,
And all proſtrate vpon the lowly playne,
(fayne. Doe kiffe her feete, and fawne on her with count'nance

Their harts ſhe gheſſeth by their humble guife,
And yieldes her to extremitie of time;
So from the ground ſhe feareleſſe doth arise,
And walketh forth without ſuſpect of crime:
They all as glad, as birdes of ioyous Pryme,
Thence lead her forth, about her dauncing round,
Shouting, and ſinging all a ſhepheards ryme,
And with greene braunches ſtrowing all the ground,
Do worſhip her, as Queene, with oliue girlond ground.

And all the way their merry pipes they found,
That all the woods with doubled Eccho ring,
And with their horned feet doe weare the ground,
Leaping like wanton kids in pleafant Spring.
So towards old *Sylvanus* they her bring;
Who with the noyſe awaked, commeth out,
To weet the caufe, his weake ſteps gouerning,
And aged limbs on Cypreſſe ſtadle ſtout,
And with an yuie twyne his waſte is girt about.

Far off he wonders, what them makes so glad,
Or *Bacchus* merry fruit they did inuent,
Or *Cybeles* franticke rites haue made them mad;
They drawing nigh, vnto their God preſent
That flowre of fayth and beautie excellent:
The God himſelfe vewing that mirrhour rare,
Stood long amazd, and burnt in his intent;
His owne fayre *Dryope* now he thinkes not faire,
And *Pholoe* fowle, when her to this he doth compaire.

F

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The woodborne people fall before her flat,
And worship her as Goddesse of the wood;
And old *Sylvanus* selfe bethinkes not, what
To thinke of wight so fayre, but gazing stood,
In doubt to deeme her borne of earthly brood;
Sometimes *Dame Venus* selfe he seemes to see,
But *Venus* neuer had so sober mood;
Sometimes *Diana* he her takes to be,
But miffeth bow, and shaftes, and buskins to her knee.

By vew of her he ginneth to reuiue
His ancient loue, and deareft *Cyparissè*,
And calles to mind his pourtraiture aliue,
How fayre he was, and yet not fayre to this,
And how he flew with glauncing dart amiffe
A gentle Hynd, the which the louely boy
Did loue as life, aboue all worldly bliffe;
For griefe whereof the lad n'ould after ioy,
But pynd away in anguifh and selfewild annoy.

The woody Nymphes, faire *Hamadryades*
Her to behold do thether runne apace,
And all the troupe of light-foot *Naiades*,
Flocke all about to see her louely face:
But when they vewed haue her heauenly grace,
They enuy her in their malitious mind,
And fly away for feare of fowle difgrace:
But all the *Satyres* ſcorne their woody kind,
And henceforth nothing faire, but her on earth they find

Glad of such lucke, the luckeleſſe lucky mayd,
Did her content to pleafe their feeble eyes,
And long time with that ſaluage people stayd,
To gather breath in many miſeryes.

During

the Faerie Queene.

Cant. VI.

During which time her gentle wit ſhe plyes;
To teach them truth, which worſhipt her in vaine,
And made her th' Image of Idolatryes;
But when their bootleſſe zeale ſhe did reſtrayne
Frö her own worſhip, they her Aſſe would worſhip fayn.

It fortuned a noble warlike knight
By iuſt occasion to that forreſt came,
To ſeeke his kindred, and the lignage right,
From whence he tooke his weldeſerued name:
He had in armes abroad wonne muchell fame,
And ſild far landes with glorie of his might,
Plaine, faithfull, true, and enimy of ſhame,
And euer lou'd to fight for Ladies right,
But in vaine glorious frayes he little did delight.

A Satyres ſonne yborne in forreſt wyld,
By ſtraunge aduenture as it did betyde,
And there begotten of a Lady myld,
Fayre *Thyamis* the daughter of *Labryde*,
That was in ſacred bandes of wedlocke tyde
To *Therion*, a loose vnruly ſwayne;
Who had more ioy to raunge the forreſt wyde,
And chafe the ſaluage beaſt with busie payne,
Then ſerue his Ladies loue, & waſte in pleafures vayne.

The forlorne mayd did with loues longing burne,
And could not lacke her louers company,
But to the wood ſhe goes, to ſerue her turne,
And ſeeke her ſpouse, that from her ſtill does fly,
And followes other game and venery:
A Satyre chaunſt her wandring for to finde,
And kindling coles of luſt in brutiſh eye,
The loyall linkes of wedlocke did vnbinde,
And made her perſon thrall vnto his beaſtly kind.

F 2

81

So

The first Booke of

Cant. VI.

84

So long in secret cabin there he held
Her captive to his senfull defyre,
Till that with timely fruit her belly sweld,
And bore a boy vnto that saluage fyre:
Then home he suffred her for to retyre,
For ransome leauing him the late-borne childe;
Whom till to ryper yeares he gan alpyre,
He noufled vp in life and manners wilde, (exilde,
Emongft wild beaftes and woods, from lawes of men

For all he taught the tender ymp was but
To banifh cowardize and baftard feare;
His trembling hand he would him force to put
Vpon the Lyon and the rugged Beare,
And from the she Beares teats her whelps to teare;
And eke wyld roring Buls he would him make
To tame, and ryde their backes not made to beare;
And the Robuckes in flight to ouertake,
That euerie beaft for feare of him did fly and quake.

Thereby so feareleſſe, and so fell he grew,
That his owne ſyre and maifter of his guile
Did often tremble at his horrid vew,
And oft for dread of hurt would him aduife,
The angry beaſtes not rafhly to deſpife,
Nor too much to prouoke: for he would leare
The Lyon ſtoup to him in lowly wife,
(A leſſon hard) and make the Libbat d'terne
Leaue roaring, when in rage he for reuence did earne.

And for to make his powre approued more,
Wyld beaſtes in yron yokes he would compell;
The spotted Panther, and the tusked Bore,
The Pardale swift, and the Tigre cruell;

The

the Faery Queene.

85

Cant. VI.

The Antelope, and Wolfe both swift and cruell;
And them conftraine in equall teme to draw.
Such ioy he had, their stubborne harts to quell,
And fturdie courage tame with dreadfull aw,
That his beheaſt they feared, as a tyrans law.

His louing mother came vpon a day
Vnto the woodes, to see her little ſonne;
And chaunſt vnwares to meet him in the way,
After his ſportes, and cruell paſtme donne,
When after him a Lyoneſſe did runne,
That roaring all with rage, did lowd requere
Her children deare, whom he away had wonne:
The Lyon whelpes ſhe ſaw how he did beare,
And lull in rugged armes, withouten childith ſeare.

The fearefull Dame all quaked at the fight,
And turning backe, gan faſt to fly away,
Vntill with louereuokt from vaine affright,
She hardly yet perſwaded was to ſtay,
And then to him theſe womaniſh words gan ſay,
Ah Satyrane, my dearling, and my ioy,
For loue of me leaue off this dreadfull play,
To dally thus with death, is no fit toy,
Go find some other play-fellowes, mine own ſweet boy.

In theſe and like delightes of bloody game
He trayned was, till ryper yeares he raught,
And there abode, whyllſt any beaſt of name
Walkt in that forreſt, whom he had not taught,
To feare his force: and then his courage haught
Delyrd of forreine foemen to be knowne,
And far abroad for ſtraunge aduentures ſought:
In which his might was neuer ouerthrowe,
But through al Faery lond his famous worth was blown

F 3

Yet

The first Booke of

Cant. VI.

84

Yet euermore it was his maner faire,
After long labours and aduentures spent,
Vnto thole native woods for to repaire,
To see his fyre and offspring auncient.
And now he thether came for like intent;
Where he vnwares the faireft Vna found,
Sraunge Lady, in so ftraunge habiliment,
Teaching the Satyres, which her fat around
Trew facred lore, which frô her fweet lips did redound.

He wondred at her wifedome heuenly rare,
Whofe like in womens witt he neuer knew;
And when her curteous deeds he did compare,
Gan her admire, and her fad forrowes rew,
Blaming of Fortune, which fuch troubles threw,
And ioyd to make proofe of her cruelty
On gentle Dame, in hurtleſſe, and in trew:
Thenceforth he kept her goodly company,
And leard her discipline of faith and verity.

But the all vowd vnto the Redcroſſe knight,
His wandring perill closely did lament,
Ne in this new acquaintaunce could delight,
But her deare heart with anguith did torment,
And all her witt in ſecret counſels spent,
How to eſcape, At laſt in priuy wife
To Satyrane the ſhewed her intent;
Who glad to gain ſuch favour, gan deuife,
How with that penſiue Maid he beſt might thence arife.

So on a day when Satyres all were gone,
To doe their ſeruice to Syluanus old,
The gentle virgin left behinde alone
He led away with corage ſtout and bold.

Too

the Faery Queene:

85

Cant. VI.

Too late it was, to Satyres to be told,
Or euer hope recouer her againe:
In vaine he ſeekes that hauing cannot hold.
So faſt he carried her with carefull paſne,
That they the wods are paſt, & come now to the plaine.

The better part now of the lingring day,
They traueild had, whenas they far eſpide
A weary wight forwandring by the way,
And towards him they gan in haſt to ride,
To weete of newes, that did abroad betide,
Or tidings of her knight of the Redcroſſe.
But he them ſpying, gan to turne aſide,
For ſeare as ſeemd, or for ſome ſeigned loſſe;
More greedy they of newes, faſt towards him do croſſe.

A filly man, in ſimple weeds forworne,
And ſoild with duſt of the long dried way;
His ſandales were with toilsome trauell torne,
And face all tand with ſcorching ſunny ray,
As he had traueild many a ſommers day,
Through boyling ſands of Arabie and Ynde,
And in his hand a Iacobs ſtaffe, to ſtay
His weary limbs vpon: and eke behind,
His ſcrip did hang, in which his needments he did bind.

The knight approching nigh, of him inquerd
Tidings of warre, and of aduentures new;
But watres, nor new aduentures none he herd.
Then Vna gan to aſke, if ought he knew,
Or heard abroad of that her champion trew,
That in his armour bare a crosſet red.
Ay me, Deare dame (qd. he) well may I rew
To tell the ſad fight, which mine eies haue red:

Theſe eies did ſee that knight both liuing, and eke ded.

F 4

That

88

The first Booke of

Cant. VI.

That cruell word her tender hart so thrild,
That fuddein cold did ronne through euery vaine,
And stony horrour all her fences fild
With dying fitt, that downe she fell for paine.
The knight her lightly reared vp againe,
And comforted with curteous kind reliefe:
Then wonne from death, she bad him tellen plaine
The further proceſſe of her hidden griefe;
The leſſer pangs can beare, who hath endur'd the chief.

Then gan the Pilgrim thus, I chaunſt this day,
This fatall day, that ſhall I euer rew,
To ſee two knights in trauell on my way
(A ſory fight) arraung'd in batteill new,
Both breathing vengeaunce, both of wrath full hew:
My feareful ſlesh did tremble at their ſtrife,
To ſee their blades so greedily imbrew,
That dronke with blood, yet thrifted after life: (knife.
What more? the Rederoffe knight was ſlain with Paynim

Ah deareſt Lord (qd. ſhe) how might that bee,
And he the ſtouteſt knight, that euer wonne?
Ah deareſt dame (qd. hee) how migh I ſee
The thing, that might not be, and yet was donne:
Where is (ſaid Satyrane) that Paynims ſonne,
That him of life, and vs of ioy hath reſte?
Not far away (qd. ſhe) he hence doth wonne
Foreby a fountaine, where I late him leſte (were cleft.
Washing his bloody wounds, that through the ſteele

Therewith the knight thence marched forth in haſt,
Whiles Vna with huge beauineſſe oppreſſ,
Could not for ſorrow follow him so haſt,
And ſoone he came, as he the place had gheſt,
Whereas

Cant. VI.

the Faery Queene

89

Whereas that Pagan proud him ſelfe did reſt,
In ſecret ſhadow by a fountaine ſide:
Euen he it was, that earſt would haue ſuppreſſt
Faire Vna: whom when Satyrane eſpide,
With foule reprochfull words he boldly him deſide.

And ſaid, Arife thou curſed Miscreaunt,
That haſt with knightleſſe guile and trecherous train
Faire knighthood fowly ſhamed, and doeſt vaunt
That good knight of the Rederoffe to haue ſlain:
Arife, and with like treaſon now maintain
Thy guilty wrong, or els thee guilty yield.
The Sarazin this hearing, roſe amain,
And catching vp in haſt his three ſquare ſhield,
And ſhining helmet, ſoone him buckled to the field.

And drawing nigh him ſaid, Ah miſborn Elſe,
In euill houre thy foes thee hither ſent,
Anothers wrongs to wreak vpon thy ſelfe:
Yet ill thou blameſt me, for hauing blent
My name with guile and traiterous intent:
That Rederoffe knight, perdie, I neuer ſlew,
But had he beene, where earſt his armes were lent,
Th'enchaunter vaine his errour ſhould not rew:
But thou his errour ſhalt, I hope now prouen trew.

Therewith they gan, both furious and ſell,
To thunder blowes, and fierſly to affaile
Each other, bent his enimy to quell,
That with their force they perſt both plate & maile,
And made wide ſurrowes in their fleſhes fraile,
That it would pitty any liuing eie.
Large floods of blood adowne their ſides did raile;
But floods of blood could not them fatiſſe:
Both hongred after death: both choſe to win, or die.

So

88 The first Booke of

Cant. VII.

So long they fight, and full reuenge purfue,
That fainting each, them selues to breathe lett,
And ofte refreshed, battell oft renue:
As when two Bores with rancling malice mett,
Their gory tides fresh bleeding fiercely frett,
Til breathleſſe both them selues aſide retire,
Where foming wrath, their cruell tuſkes they weth,
And trample th'earth, the whiles they may respire,
Then backe to fight againe, new breathed and entire.

So fierſly, when theſe knights had breathed once,
They gan to fight retourne, increaſing more
Their puiflant force, and cruell rage attonce,
With heaped ſtrokes more hugely, then before,
That with their drery wounds and bloody gore
They both deformed, ſcarſely could bee known.
By this ſad Vna ſtraught with anguifh ſore, (thrown
Led with their noife, which through the aire was
Arriu'd, wher they in erth their fruitles blood had ſown.

Whom all ſo ſoon as that proud Sarazin
Eſpide, he gan reuiue the memory
Of his leud luſts, and late attempted ſin,
And leſte the doubtfull battell haſtily,
To catch her, newly offred to his eie:
But Satyrane with ſtrokes him turning, ſtaid,
And ſternely bad him other buſineſſe plie,
Then hunt the ſteps of pure vnſpotted Maid:
Wherewith he al enrag'd, theſe bitter ſpeaches ſaid.

O fooliſh faeries ſonne, what fury mad
Hath thee incenſt, to haſt thy dolefull fate?
Were it not better, I that Lady had,
Then that thou hadſt repented it too late?

Moft

89

Cant. VII. the Faëry Queene.

Moft ſenceleſſe man he, that himſelfe doth hate,
To loue another. Lo then for thine ayd
Here take thy louers token on thy pate.
So they to fight, the whiles the royall Mayd
Fledd farre away, of that proud Paynim ſore affrayd.

But that falſe Pilgrim, which that leafing told,
Being in deed old Archimage, did ſtay
In ſecret ſhadow, all this to behold,
And much reioyced in their bloody fray:
But when he ſaw the Damſell paffe away
He left his ſtond, and her purſewd apace,
In hope to bring her to her laſt decay.
But for to tell her lamentable cace,
And eke this battels end, will need another place.

## Cant. VII.

The Redcroſe knight is captiue made
By Gyaunt proud oppreſt,
Prince Arthure meets with Una great-
ly with thofe neues diſtreſt.

VVhat man ſo wifc, what earthly witt ſo ware,
As to diſery the crafty cunning traine,
By which decept doth maſke in viſour faire,
And caſt her coulours died deepe ingraine,
To ſeeme like truth, whose ſhape the well can faire,
And fitting geſtures to her purpofe frame;
The guiltleſſe man with guile to entertaine?
Great maſitreſſe of her art was that falſe Dame,
The falſe Dueſſa, cloked with Fideſſaes name.

Who

The first Booke of

Cant. VII.

Who when returning from the drery Night,
She fownd not in that perilous hous of Pryde,
Where she had left, the noble Redrof's knight,
Her hoped pray; she would no lenger byde,
But forth she went, to seeke him far and wide.
Ere long she fownd, whereas he wearie fate,
To reft him selfe, foreby a fountaine fyde,
Disarmed all of yron-coted Plate,
And by his side his feed the graffy forage ate.

Hee feedes vpon the cooling shade, and bayes
His fweatie forehead in the breathing wynd,
Which through the trebling leaues full gently playes
Wherein the chearefull birds of fundry kynd
Doe chaunt fweet muſick, to delight his mynd,
The witch approaching gan him fayrely gree,
And with reproch of carelesſes vnkynd,
Vpbrayd, for leauing her in place vnmeet, (fweet
With fowle words tempring faire, ſoure gall with hom

Vnkindneſſe paſt, they gan of ſolace treat,
And bathe in pleasaunce of the ioyous ſhade,
Which ſhielded them againſt the boyling heat,
And with greene boughes decking a gloomy glade,
About the fountaine like a girlond made;
Whose bubbling waue did euer freshely well,
Ne euer would through feruent ſommer fade
The ſacred Nymph, which therein wont to dwell,
Was out of Dianes ſauor, as it then befell.

The caufe was this: one day when Phæbe ſayre
With all her band was following the chace,
This Nymph, quite tyr'd with heat of ſcorching ayce
Satt downe to reſt in middeſt of the race:

The

the Faëry Queene.

Cant. VII.

The goddeſſe wroth gan fowly her difgrace,
And badd the waters, which from her did flow,
Be ſuch as she her ſelfe was then in place.
Thenceforth her waters wexed dull and flow,
And all that drinke thereof, do faint and feeble grow.

Hereof this gentle knight vnweeting was,
And lying downe vpon the landie graile,
Dronke of the ſtreame, as cleare as chriftall glas;
Eſt ſoones his manly forces gan to ſayle,
And mightie ſtrong was turnd to feeble frayle:
His chaunged powres at firſt them ſelues not felt,
Till crudled cold his corage gan affayle,
And chearefull blood in fayntnes chill did melt,
Which like a feuer fit through all his body ſwelt.

Yet goodly court he made ſtill to his Dame,
Pourd out in loofneſſe on the graffy grownd,
Both careleſſe of his health, and of his fame:
Till at the laſt he heard a dreadfull ſownd, (bownd,
Which through the wood loud bellowing, did re-
That all the earth for terror ſeemd to ſhake,
And trees did tremble. Th'Elſe therewith aftownd,
Vpſtarted lightly from his looſer make,
And his vnready weapons gan in hand to take.

But ere he could his armour on him dight,
Or gett his ſhield, his monſtrous enimy
With ſturdie ſteps came ſtalking in his fight,
An hideous Geaunt horrible and hye,
That with his tallneſſe ſeemd to threat the skye,
The ground eke groned vnder him for dreed;
His liuing like ſaw neuer liuing eye,
Ne durſt behold: his ſtature did exceed

The high of three the talleſt ſonnes of mortall ſeed.

The

92 The first Booke of Cant. VII.

The greatest Earth his vncouth mother was,
And blustring AEolus his boasted fyre,
(pas,
Who with his breath, which through the world doth
Her hollow womb did secretly inſpyre,
And ſild her hidden caues with ſtormie yre,
That ſhe conceiu'd; and trebling the dew time,
In which the wombes of wemen doe expyre,
Brought forth this monſtrous mafle of earthly flyme,
Puſt vp with emptie wynd, and ſild with ſinfull cryme.

So growen great through arrogant delight
Of th'high deſcent, whereof he was yborne,
And through preſumption of his matchleſſe might,
All other powres and knighthood he did ſcorne,
Such now he marcheth to this man forlorne,
And left to loffe: his ſtalking ſteps are ſtayde
Vpon a ſnaggy Oke, which he had torne
Out of his mothers bowelles, and it made
His mortall mace, wherewith his ſoemen he diſmayde.

That when the knight he ſpyde, he gan aduaunce
With huge force and inſupportable mayne,
And towardes him with dreadfull ſury praunce,
Who hapleſſe, and eke hopeleſſe; all in vaine
Did to him pace, ſad battaile to darrayne,
Diſarm'd, diſgraſſe, and inwardly diſmayde,
And eke ſo faint in euery ioynt and vayne,
Through that fraile ſoſtain, which him feeble made,
That ſcarſely could he weeld his bootleſſe ſingle blade.

The Geaunt ſtrooke ſo maynly mercileſſe,
That could haue ouerthrowne a ſtony towre,
And were not heuenly grace, that him did bleſſe,
He had beene pouldred all, as thin as flowre:

But

Cant. VII.

the Faerie Queene.

But he was wary of that deadly ſtowre,
And lightly lept from vnderneath the blow
Yet ſo exceeding was the villeins powre
That with the winde it did him ouerthrow,
And all his ſences ſtoond, that ſtill he lay full low.

As when that diueliſh yron Engin wrought
In deepeſt Hell, ,and framd by Furies skill,
With windy Nitre and quick Sulphur fraught,
And ramd with bollet rownd, ordain'd to kill,
Conceiueth fyre, the heauens it doth fill
With thundring noyſe, and all the ayre doth choke,
That none can breath, nor ſee, nor heare at will,
Through ſmouldry cloud of duskiſh ſtincking ſmok,
That th'onely breath him daunts, who hath eſcapt the
(stroke.

So daunted when the Geaunt ſaw the knight,
His heauie hand he heued vp on hye,
And him to duſt thought to haue battred quight,
Vntill Dueſſa loud to him gan crye;
O great Orgoglio, greatest vnder skye,
O hold thy mortall hand for Ladies ſake,
Hold for my ſake, and doe him not to dye,
But vanquiſht thine eternall bondſlaue make,
And me thy worthy meed vnto thy Leman take.

He hearkned, and did ſtay from further harmes,
To gayne ſo goodly guerdon, as the ſpake:
So willingly the came into his armes,
Who her as willingly to grace did take,
And was poſſeſſed of his newfound make.
Then vp he tooke the ſlombred ſenceleſſe corſe,
And ere he could out of his ſwowne awake,
Him to his caſtle brought with haſtie forſe,
And in a Dongeon deep him threw without remorſe.

From

96

The first Book of

Cant. VII.

From that day forth Dueſſa was his deare,
And highly honourd in his haughtie eye,
He gaue her gold and purple pall to weare,
And triple crowne ſet on her head full hye,
And her endowd with royall maiſtye:
Then for to make her dteaded more of men,
And peoples hartes with awfull terror tye,
A monſtrous beaſt ybredd in filthy fen
He chofe, which he had kept long time in darkſom den.

Such one it was, as that renowneded Snake
Which great Alcides in Stremona ſlew,
Long ſoftred in the filth of Lerna lake,
Whose many heades out budding euer new,
Did breed him endleſſe labor to ſubdew:
But this fame Monster much more vgly was:
For ſeuen great heads out of his body grew,
An yron breſt, and back of ſcaly bras,
And all embrewd in blood, his eyes did ſhine as glas.

His tayle was ſtretched out in wondrous length,
That to the houſe of heuenly gods it raught,
And with extorted powre, and borrow'd ſtrength,
The euerburning lamps from thence it braught,
And prowdly threw to ground, as things of naught,
And vnderneath his filthy feet did tread,
The ſacred thinges, and holy heaſtes foretaught.
Vpon this dreadfull Beaſt with ſeuenfold head
He ſett the falſe Dueſſa, for more aw and dread.

The wofull Dwarſe, which ſaw his maſters fall,
Whiles he had keepeing of his graſing ſteed,
And valiant knight become a caytive thrall,
When all was paſt, tooke vp his forlorne weed,

His

95

Cant. VII. the Faëry Queene.

His mightie Armour, miffing moſt at needs,
His filuer ſhield, now idle maiſterleſſe;
His poynant ſpeare, that many made to bleed,
The rueſull moniments of heauineſſe,
And with them all departes, to tell his great diſtreſſe.

He had not trauaild long, when on the way
He wofull Lady, wofull Vna met,
Faſt flying from that Paynims greedy pray,
Whileſt Satyrane him from purſuit did let:
Who when her eyes ſhe on the Dwarſh had fet,
And ſaw the ſignes, that deadly tydinges ſpake,
She fell to ground for ſorrowfull regret,
And liuely breath her ſad breſt did forſake,
Yet might her pitteous hart be ſene to pant and quake.

The meſſenger of ſo vnhappie newes,
Would faine haue dyde: dead was his hart within,
Yet outwardly ſome little comfort ſhewes:
At laſt recouering hart, he does begin
To rubb her temples, and to chaufe her chin,
And euerie tender part does toſſe and turne:
So hardly he the ſlitted life does win,
Vnto her native prifon to retourne:
Then gins her grieued ghast thus to lament & mourne.

Ye dreary instruments of dolefull ſight,
That doe this deadly ſpectacle behold,
Why do ye lenger feed on loathed light,
Or liking find to gaze on earthly mould,
Sith cruell fates the carefull threds vnſould,
The which my life and loue together tyde ?
Now let the ſtony dart of ſenceleſſe cold
Perce to my hart, and pas through euerie ſide,
And let eternall night ſo ſad fro me hyde.

G

O

The first Booke of

Cant. VII.

O lightsome day, the lampe of highest Ioue,
First made by him, mens wandring wayes to guyde,
When darkneſſe he in deepeſt donge con druue,
Henceforth thy hated face for euer hyde,
And ſhut vp heauens windowes ſhyning wyde:
For earthly ſight can nought but ſorow breed,
And late repentance, which ſhall long abyde,
Mine eyes no more on vanitie ſhall feed,
But ſeeled vp with death, ſhall haue their deadly meed.

Then downe againe ſhe fell vnto the ground;
But he her quickly reared vp againe:
Thrifse did ſhe ſinke adowne in deadly ſwownd,
And thrife he her reviu'd with bufſe paine:
At laſt when life recouer'd had the raine,
And ouer-wrestled his ſtrong enimy,
With foltring tong, and trembling euerie vaine,
Tell on (quoth ſhe) the wofull Tragedy,
The which theſe reliques ſad preſent vnto mine eye.

Tempeſtuous fortune hath ſpent all her ſpight,
And thrilling ſorrow throwne his vtmoſt dart;
Thy ſad tong cannot tell more heavy plight,
Then that I ſeele, and harbour in mine hart:
Who hath endur'd the whole, can beare ech part.
If death it be, it is not the firſt wound,
That launched hath my breſt with bleeding ſmart.
Begin, and end the bitter balefull ſtound;
Ifleſſe, then that I ſeare, more ſauour I haue found.

Then gan the Dwarſe the whole diſcourſe declare,
The ſubtile traines of Archіmago old;
The wanton loues of falſe Fideſſa fayre,
Bought with the blood of vanquiſht Paynim bold:
The

the Faerie Queene.

Cant. VII.

The wretched payre transform'd to treen mould:
The house of Pryde, and perilles round about;
The combat, which he with Samſoy did hould;
The luckleſſe conflict with the Gyaunt ſtout,
Wherein captiu'd, of life or death he ſtood in doubt.

She heard with patience all vnto the end,
And ſtroue to maifter ſorrowfull affay,
Which greater grew, the more ſhe did contend,
And almoſt rent her tender hart in tway;
And loue fresh coles vnto her fire did lay:
For greater loue, the greater is the loffe.
Was neuer Lady loued dearer day,
Then ſhe did loue the knight of the Redcrosſe;
For whose deare ſake so many troubles her did toſſe.

At laſt when feruent ſorrow ſlaked was,
She vp aroſe, reſoluing him to find
Aliue or dead: and forward forth doth pas,
All as the Dwarſe the way to her affynd:
And euer more in conſtant carefull mind
She ſedd her wound with fresh renewed bale;
Long toſt with ſtormes, and bet with bitter wind,
High ouer hills, and lowe adowne the dale,
She wandred many a wood, and meaſur'd many a vale.

At laſt ſhe chaunced by good hap to meet
A goodly knight, faire marching by the way
Together with his Squyre, arayed meet;
His glitterand armour ſhined far away,
Like glaucing light of Phæbus brighteſt ray;
From top to toe no place appeared bare,
That deadly dint of ſteele endanger may:
Athwart his breſt a bauldrick braue he ware,
(rare)
That ſhind, like twinkling ſtars, with ſtones moſt pretious

G 2

And

98 The first Booke of Cant. VII.

And in the midft thereof one pretious ſtone
Of wondrous worth, and eke of wondrous mights,
Shapt like a Ladies head, exceeding ſhone,
Like Hesperus emongſt the leſſer lights,
And ſtroue for to amaze the weaker ſights;
Thereby his mortall blade full comely hong
In yuory ſheath, ycaru'd with curious flights;
Whofe hilts were burniſht gold, and handle ſtrong
Of mother perle, and buckled with a golden tong.

His haughtie Helmet, horrid all with gold,
Both glorious brightneſſe, and great terrour bredd,
For all the creſt a Dragon did enfold
With greedie pawes, and ouer all did ſpredd
His golden winges : his dreadfull hideous hedd
Cloſe couched on the beuer, ſeemd to throw
From flaming mouth bright ſparckles ſiery redd,
That ſuddeine horrour to faint hartes did ſhow;
And ſcaly tayle was ſtretcht adowne his back full low.

Vpon the top of all his loftie creſt,
A bounch of heares diſcolourd diuerſly,
With ſprinckled pearle, and gold full richly dreſt,
Did ſhake, and ſeemd to daunce for iollity,
Like to an Almond tree ymounted hye
On top of greene Selinis all alone,
With blossoms braue bedecked daintily;
Her tender locks do tremble euery one
At euerie little breath, that vnder heauen is blowne.

His warlike ſhield all cloſely couer'd was,
Ne might of mortall eye be euer ſeene;
Not made of ſteeld, nor of enduring bras,
Such earthly mettals ſoone consumed beene:

But

99

### Cant. VII. the Faery Queene.

But all of Diamond perfect pure and cleene
It framed was, one mafly entire mould,
Hewen out of Adamant rocke with engines keene,
That point of ſpeare it neuer percen could,
Ne dint of direfull ſword diuide the ſubſtance would.

The ſame to wight he neuer wont diſcloſe,
But when as monſters huge he would diſmay,
Or daunt vnequall armies of his foes,
Or when the flying heauens he would affray :
For ſo exceeding ſhone his gliſtring ray,
That Phæbus golden face it did attaint,
As when a cloud his beames doth quer-lay
And filuer Cynthia wexed pale and ſaynt,
As when her face is ſtaynd with magicke arts conſtraint.

No magicke arts hereof had any might,
Nor bloody wordes of bold Enchaunters call,
But all that was not ſuch, as ſeemd in fight,
Before that ſhield did fade, and ſuddeine fall :
And when him lift the raskall routes appall,
Men into ſtones therewith he could tranſmew,
And ſtones to duſt, and duſt to nought at all;
And when him lift the prouder lookes ſubdew
He would them gazing blind, or turne to other hew.

Ne let it ſeene that credence this exceedes,
For he that made the ſame, was knowne right well
To haue done much more admirable deedes.
It *Merlin* was, which whylome did excell
All liuing wightes in might of magicke ſpell:
Both ſhield, and ſword, and armour all he wrought
For this young Prince, when firſt to armes he ſell,
But when he dyde, the Faery Queene it brought
To Faerie lond, where yet it may be ſeene, if ſought.

G 3

A

100

The first Booke of

Cant. VII.

A gentle youth, his dearely loued Squire
His speare of heben wood behind him bare,
Whose harmful head, thrife heated in the fire,
Had riuen many a brest with pikehead squares;
A goodly person, and could menage faire,
His ftubborne steed with curbed canon bitt,
Who vnder him did amble as the aire,
And chanft, that any on his backe should sitt;
The yron rowels into frothy fome he bitt.

Whenas this knight nigh to the Lady drew,
With louely court he gan her entertaine;
But when he heard her aunſwers loth, he knew
Some ſecret ſorrow did her heart diſtraine:
Which to allay and calme her ſtorming paine,
Faire feeling words he wifely gan diſplay,
And for her humor fitting purpofe faire,
To tempt the caufe it ſelfe for to bewray;
(lay,
Wherewith enmoud, theſe bleeding words the gan to

What worlds delight, or ioy of liuing ſpeach
Can hart, ſo plungd in ſea of ſorrowes deep,
And heaped with ſo huge miſfortunes, reach?
The carefull cold beginneth for to creep,
And in my heart his yron arrow ſtEEP,
Soone as I thinke vpon my bitter bale:
Such helpleſe harmes yts better hidden keep,
Then rip vp griefe, where it may not auaile,
My laſt left comfort is, my woes to weepe and waile.

Ah Lady deare, qd. then the gentle knight,
Well may I ween, your grief is wondrous great;
For wondrous great griefe groneth in my ſpright,
Whiles thus I heare you of your ſorrowes treat.

But

101

Cant. VII.

the Faery Queene:

But woefull Lady, let me you intrete,
For to vnfold the anguifh of your hart:
Mifhaps are maiftred by aduce diſcrete,
And counſell mitigates the greateſt ſmart;
Found neuer help, who neuer would his hurts impart.

O but (qd. ſhe) great griefe will not be tould,
And can more easiely be thought, then ſaid.
Right ſo (qd. he) but he, that neuer would,
Could neuer: will to might giues greateſt aid.
But griefe (qd. ſhe) does greater grow diſplaide,
If then it find not helpe, and breeds deſpaire.
Deſpaire breeds not (qd. he) where faith is yaid.
No faith ſo ſaſt (qd. ſhe) but ſlesh does paire.
Flesh may empaire (qd. he) but reaſon can repaire.

His goodly reaſon, and well guided ſpeach
So deepe did ſettle in her gracious thought,
That her perſwaded to diſcloſe the breach,
Which loue and fortune in her heart had wrought,
And ſaid faire Sir, I hope good hap hath brought
You to inquere the ſecrets of my griefe,
Or that your wifedome will direct my thought,
Or that your prowſeſe can me yield reliefe:
Then heare the ſtory ſad, which I ſhall tell you briefe.

The forlorne Maiden, whom your eies haue ſeene
The laughing ſtocke of fortunes mockeries,
Am th'only daughter of a King and Queene,
Whose parents deare whiles equal deſtinies,
Did come about, and their felicities
The fauourable heauens did not enuy,
Did ſpreſe their rule through all the territories,
Which Phifon and Euphrates floweth by,
And Gebons golden waues doe wath continually.

G 4

Till

The first Booke of

Cant. VII.

102

Till that their cruell curled enemy,
An huge great Dragon horrible in fight,
Bred in the loathly lakes of Tartary,
With murmrous rauine, and deuouring might
Their kingdome spoil, and countrey waſted quicke
Themselues, for feare into his iawes to fall,
He forſt to caſſle ſtrong to take their flight,
Where faſt embard in mighty braſen wall,
He has them now ſowr years beſieged to make the thrall,

Full many knights aduenturous and ſtout
Haue enterprizd that Monster to ſubdew;
From euery coaſt that heauen walks about,
Haue thither come the noble Martial crew,
That famous harde atchieuements ſtill purſew,
Yet neuer any could that girlond win,
But all ſtill ſhronke, and ſtill he greater grew:
All they for want of faith, or guilt of fin,
The pitteous pray of his ſiers cruelty haue bin.

At laſt yled with far reported praeſe,
Which flying fame throughout the world had ſpred,
Of doughty kniſt, whom Fary land did raife,
That noble order hight of maidenhed,
Forthwith to court of Gloriane I ſped,
Of Gloriane great Queene of glory bright,
Whose kingdomes ſeat Cleopolis is red,
There to obtaine ſome ſuch redoubtred knight,
That Parents deare from tyrants powre deliuer might.

Yt was my chaunce (my chaunce was faire and good)
There for to find a fresh vnproued knight,
Whose manly hand imbrewd in guilty blood
Had neuer beene, ne euer by his might

Had

the Faery Queene

103

Cant. VII.

Had throwne to ground the vnregarded right:
Yet of his prowesse proofe he ſince hath made
(I witnes am) in many a cruell fight;
The groning ghoſts of many one diſmaide
Haue felt the bitter dint of his auenging blade.

And ye the forlorn reliques of his powre,
His biting ſword, and his deuouring ſpeare,
Which haue endured many a dreadfull ſtowre,
Can ſpeake his prowesse, that did earſt you beare,
And well could rule: now he hath left you heare,
To be the record of his ruefull loffe,
And of my dolefull diſauenturous deare:
O heauie record of the good Redcroſſe,
Where haue yee left your lord, that could ſo well you?

Well hoped I, and faire beginnings had,
That he my captiue languor ſhould redeeme,
Till all vnweeting, an Enchaunter bad
His ſence abuſd, and made him to miſdeeme
My loyalty, not ſuch as it did ſeeme
That rather death deſire, then ſuch deſpight,
Be iudge ye heauens, that all things right eſteeme,
How I him lou'd, and loue with all my might,
So thought I eke of him, and think I thought aright.

Thenceforth me deſolate he quite forſooke,
To wander, where wilde fortune would me lead,
And other bywaies he himſelſe betooke,
Where neuer foote of liuing wight did tread,
That brought not backe the balefull body dead;
In which him chaunced falſe Dueſſa meete,
Mine onely foe, mine onely deadly dread,
Who with her witchcraft and miſſeeming ſweete,
Inueigled him to follow her deſires vnmeete.

A

The first Booke of

Cant. VIII.

104

At last by subtile fleights he him betraid
Vnto his foe, a Gyaunt huge and tall,
Who him disarmed, diffolute, dismaid,
Vnwares surprised, and with mighty mall
The monster mercileſſe him made to fall,
Whose fall did neuer foe before behold;
And now in darkeſome dungeon, wretched thrall,
Remedileſſe, for aie he doth him hold;
This is my cauſe of grieſe, more great, then may be told.

Ere ſhe had ended all, ſhe gan to faint:
But he her comforted, and faire beſpake,
Certes, Madame, ye haue great cauſe of plaint,
That ſtouteſt heart, I weene, could cauſe to quake.
But be of cheare, and comfort to you take:
For till I haue acquitt your captive knight,
Aſſure your ſelfe, I will you not forſake.
His chearefull words reviu'd her cheareleſſe ſpright,
So forth they went, the Dwarſe the guiding euer right.

Cant. VIII.

Faire virgin to redeeme her deare
Brings Arthur to the fight:
Who ſlayes that Gyaunt, wounds the beaſt,
And ſtrips Dueſa quight.

A
Y me, how many perils doe enfold
The righteous man, to make him daily fall,
Were not that heauenly grace doth him vphold,
And ſted ſaſt truth acquite him out of all:

Her

the Faery Queene.

105

Her loue is firme, her care continuall,
So oft as he thorough his own foolish pride,
Or weaknes is to ſinfull bands made thrall:
Els ſhould this Redcroſſe knight in bands haue dyde,
For whose deliuerace he this Prince doth thether guyd.

They fadly traueild thus, vntill they came
Nigh to a caſtle builded ſtrong and hye:
Then cryde the Dwarſe, Ioyonder is the fame,
In which my Lord my liege doth luckleleſſe ly,
Thrall to that Gyaunts hatefull tyranny:
Therefore, deare Sir, your mightie powres affay.
The noble knight alighted by and by
From loftie ſteed, and badd the Ladie ſtay,
To ſee what end of fight ſhould him befall that day.

So with his Squire, th'admirer of his might,
He marched forth towardes that caſtle wall;
Whof gates he fownd ſaſt thuſt, ne liuing wight
To warde the fame, nor anſwere commers call.
Then tooke that Squire an horne of bugle ſmall,
Which hong adowne his ſide in twiſted gold,
And taffelles gay. Wyde wonders ouer all
Of that fame hornes great vertues weren told,
Which had approued bene in vſes manifold.

Was neuer wight, that heard that ſtrilling fownd,
But trembling ſeare did feel in euery vaine;
Three miles it might be eafy heard arownd,
And Ecchoes three aunſwerd it ſelfe againe:
No ſalſe enchauntnment, nor deceptfull traine
Might once abide the terror of that blaſt,
But preſently was void and wholly vaine:
No gate ſo ſtrong, no locke ſo firme and ſaſt,
But with that percing noise ſlew open quite, or braſt.

The

106

The first Booke of Cant. VIII.

The fame before the Geaunts gate he blew,
That all the castle quaked from the grownd,
And euery dore of freewill open flew:
The Gyaunt selfe dismaied with that fownd,
Where he with his Dueſſa dalliaunce fownd.
In haſt came rufing forth from inner bowre,
With staring countenance ſterne, as one aftownd,
And staggering ſteps, to weet, what ſudein ſtowre,
Had wrought that horror ſtrange, and dar'd his dreaded
(powre)

And after him the proud Dueſſa came,
High mounted on her many headed beaſt,
And euery head with fyrie tongue did flame,
And euery head was crowned on his creaſt,
And bloody mouthed with late cruell ſeaſt.
That when the knight beheld, his mightie ſhild
Vpon his manly arme he ſoone addreſt,
And at him fierſly flew, with corage ſild,
And eger greedinesſe through euery member thrild.

Therewith the Gyant buckled him to fight,
Inflamd with ſcornefull wrath and high diſdaine,
And lifting vp his dreadfull club on hight,
All armd with ragged ſnubbes and knottie graine,
Him thought at firſt encounter to haue ſaine.
But wiſt and wary was that noble Pere,
And lightly leaping from ſo monſtrous maine,
Did fayre auoide the violence him nere;
It booted nought, to thinke, ſuch thunderbolts to beare.

Ne ſhame he thought to ſhonne ſo hideous might,
The ydle ſtroke, enforcing furious way,
Miffing t he marke of his miſaymed ſight
Did fall to ground, and with his heauy ſway

So

Cant. VIII. the Faery Queene.

107

So deeply dinted in the driuen clay,
That three yardes deepe a furrow vp did throw:
The sad earth wounded with ſo fore aſſay,
Did grone full grieuous vnderneath the blow, (show,
And trembling with ſtrange ſeare, did like an erthquake

As when almightie Jouve in wrathfull mood,
To wreake the guilt of mortall fins is bent,
Hurles forth his thundring dart with deadly food,
Enrold in flames, and ſmouldring dreriment,
Through riuen cloudes and molten firmament;
The fierſs threeforked engin making way,
Both loftie towres and highest trees hath rent,
And all that might his angry paſſage ſtay,
And ſhooting in the earth, caſtes vp a mount of clay.

His boyſtrous club, ſo buried in the grownd,
He could not rearen vp againe ſo light,
But that the knight him at aduantage fownd,
And whiles he ſtroue his combred clubbe to quight,
Out of the earth, with blade all burning bright
He ſmott of his left arme, which like a block
Did fall to ground, depriu'd of native might;
Large ſtreames of blood out of the truncked ſtock
Forth guſhed, like fresh water ſtreame from riuen rocke.

Diſmayed with ſo desperate deadly wound,
And eke impatient of vnwented payne,
He lowdly brayd with beaſtly yelling fownd,
That all the fieldes rebellowed againe,
As great a noyſe, as when in Cymbrian plaine
An heard of Bulles, whom kindly rage doth ſting,
Doe for the milky mothers want complaine,
And fill the fieldes with troublous bellowing,
The neighbor woods arownd with hollow murmuring.

That

108

That when his deare Dueſſa heard, and saw
The euill ſtownd, that daungerd her eſtate,
Vnto his aide ſhe haſtily did draw
Her dreadfull beaſt, who ſwolne with blood of late
Came ramping forth with proud preſuſteous gate,
And threatned all his heades like flaming brandes.
But him the Squire made quickly to retrate,
Encountring ſiers with ſingle ſword in hand,
And twixt him and his Lord did like a bulwarke ſtand,

The proud Dueſſa full of wrathfull ſpight,
And ſiers diſdaine, to be affronted so,
Enfort her purple beaſt with all her might
That ſtop out of the way to ouerthroe,
Scorning the let of ſo vnequall foe:
But nathemore would that corageous ſwayne
To her yeeld paſſage, gaſſt his Lord to goe,
But with outrageous ſtrokes did him reſtraine,
And with his body bard the way atwixt them twaine.

Then tooke the angrie witch her golden cup,
Which ſtill ſhe bore, replete with magick artes,
Death and deſpeyre did many thereof ſup,
And ſecret poyſon through their inner partes,
Th'eternall bale of heauie wounded harts;
Which after charmes and ſome enchauntnments ſaid,
She lightly ſprinkled on his weaker partes;
Therewith his ſturdie corage ſoone was quayd,
And all his ſences were with ſuddein dread diſmayd

So downe he fell before the crnell beaſt,
Who on his neck his bloody claws did ſeize,
That life nigh cruſht out of his panting breſt:
No powre he had to ſtirre, nor will to rize.

That

the Faerie Queene. 119

Cant. VIII.

That when the carefull knight gan well auife,
He lightly left the foe, with whom he fought,
And to the beaſt gan turne his enterprize;
For wondrous anguſh in his hart it wrought,
To ſee his loued Squyre into ſuch thraldom brought.

And high aduauncing his blood-thirstie blade,
Stroke one of thofe deformed heades ſo ſore,
That of his puiffaunce proud enſample made;
His monſtrous ſcalpe downe to his teeth it tore,
And that misformed ſhape miſhaped more:
A ſea of blood guſht from the gaping wownd,
That her gay garments ſtaynd with filthy gore,
And overfl owed all the field arownd;
That ouer ſhoes in blood he waded on the grownd.

Thereat he rored for exceeding paine,
That to haue heard, great horror would haue bred,
And ſcourging th'emptie ayre with his long trayne,
Through great impatience of his grieued hed
His gorgeous ryder from her loftie ſted
Would haue caſt downe, and trodd in durty myre,
Had not the Gyaunt ſoone her ſuccoured;
Who all enrag'd with ſmart and frantick yre,
Came hurtling in full ſiers, and forſt the knight retyre.

The force, which wont in two to be diſperſt,
In one alone left hand he now vnites,
Which is through rage more ſtrong then both were
With which his hideous club aloft he dites,
And at his foe with furious rigor ſmites,
That ſtrongeſt Oake might ſeeme to ouerthrow:
The ſtroke vpon his ſhield ſo heauie lites,
That to the ground it doubleth him full low
(blow? What mortall wight could euer beare ſo monſtrous

And

110

The first Booke of

Cant. VIII.

And in his fall his shield, that couered was,
Did loose his vele by chaunce, and open flew:
The light whereof, that heuens light did pas,
Such blazing brightneſſe through the ayer threw,
That eye mote not the fame endure to vew.
Which when the Gyaunt ſpyde with ſtaring eye,
He downe let fall his arme, and ſoft withdrew
His weapon huge, that heaued was on hye,
For to haue ſlain the man, that on the ground did lye.

And eke the fruitfull-headed beaſt, amazd
At flashing beames of that ſunſhiny ſhield,
Became ſtark blind, and all his ſences dazd
That downe he tumbled on the durtie field,
And ſeemd himſelfe as conquered to yield.
Whom when his maiſtreſſe proud perceiu'd to fall.
Whiles yet his feeble feet for faintneſſe reedl,
Vnto the Gyaunt lowdly ſhe gan call,
O helpe orgoglio, helpe, or els we perisht all.

At her ſo pitteous cry was much amoou'd,
Her champion ſtout, and for to ayde his frend,
Againe his wonted angry weapon proou'd:
But all in vaine: for he has redd his end
In that bright ſhield, and all their forces ſpend
Them ſelues in vaine: for ſince that glauncing fight,
He hath no poure to hurt, nor to defend;
As where th'Almighties lightning brond does light
It dimmes the dazed eyen, and daunts the ſences quight.

Whom when the Prince, to batteill new addreſt,
And threatning high his dreadfull ſtroke did ſee,
His ſparkling blade about his head he bleſt,
And ſmote off quite his right leg by the knee,

Th

III

Cant. VIII.

the Faery Queene.

That downe he tumbled; as an aged tree,
High growing on the top of rocky clift,
Whole hartſtrings with keene ſteele nigh hewen be,
The mightie trunck halſe rent, with ragged rift
Doth roll adowne the rocks, and fall with ſearefull drift.

Or as a Caſtle reared high and round,
By ſubtile engins and malitious flight
Is vndermined from the loweſt ground,
And her foundation forſt, and ſeebled quight,
At laſt downe falles, and with her heaped hight
Herhaſt ſuine does more heauie make,
And yields it ſelſe vnto the viſtours might;
Such was this Gyaunts fall, that ſeemd to ſhake
The ſtedſaſt globe of earth, as it for ſeare did quake.

The knight then lightly leaping to the pray,
With mortall ſteele him ſmot againe ſo fore,
That headleſſe his vnweldy bodie lay,
All wallowd in his owne fowle bloody gore,
Which ſlowed from his wounds in wondrous ſtore.
But ſoone as breath out of her breſt did pas,
That huge great body, which the Gyaunt bore,
Was vaniſht quite, and of that monſtrous mas
Was nothing left, but like an empty blader was.

Whofe grieuous fall, when falſe Dueſſa ſpyde,
Her golden cup ſhe caſt vnto the ground,
And crowned mitre rudely threw aſyde;
Such percing griefe her ſtubborne hart did wound,
That ſhe could not endure that dolefull ſtound,
But leauing all behind her, ſled away:
The light-foot Squyre her quickly turnd around,
And by hard meanes enforcing her to ſtay,
So brought vnto his Lord, as his deferu'd pray.

H

The

112

The roiall Virgin, which beheld from farre,
In penfiue plight, and sad perplexitie,
The whole atchieuement of this doubtfull warre,
Came running faft to greet his victorie,
With sober gladneſſe, and myld modedtie,
And with ſweet ioyous cheare him thus beſpake;
Fayre braunch of noblenſe, flowre of chevalrie,
That with your worth the world amazed make,
How ſhall I quite the paynes, ye ſuffer for my ſake?

And you fresh budd of verue ſpringing faſt,
Whom theſe ſad eyes ſaw nigh vnto deaths dore,
What hath poore Virgin for ſuch perill ſaſt,
Wherewith you to reward ? Accept therefore
My ſimple ſelfe, and ſeruice euermore :
And he that high does ſit, and all things ſee
With equall eye, their merites to reſtore,
Behold what ye this day haue done for mee,
And what I cannot quite, requite with vſuree.

But ſith the heauens, and your faire handeling
Haue made you maſter of the field this day,
Your fortune maſter eke with gouerning,
And well begonne end all ſo well, I pray,
Ne let that wicked woman ſcape away;
For ſhe it is, that did my Lord bethrall,
My deareſt Lord, and deepe in dongeon lay,
Where he his better dayes hath waſted all.
O heare, how piteous he to you for ayd does call.

Forthwith he gaue in charge vnto his Squyre,
That ſcarlot whore to keepen carefully;
Whyles he himſelfe with greedie great deſyre
Into the Caſtle entred forcibly,

Where

the Faerie Queene.

II;

Cant. VIII.

Where liuing creature none he did espye;
Then gan he lowdly through the houſe to call:
But no man car'd to anſwere to his crye.
There raignd a ſolemne ſilence ouer all,
(hall. Nor voice was heard, nor wight was ſene in bowre or

At laſt with creeping crooked pace forth came
An old old man, with beard as white as ſnow,
That on a ſtaffe his feeble ſteps did frame,
And guyde his wearie gate both too and fro;
For his eye ſight him ſayled long ygo,
And on his arme a bounch of keyes he bore,
The which vnſed ruſt did ouergrow:
Thoſe were the keyes of euery inner dore,
But he could not them vſe, but kept them ſtill in ſtore.

But very vncouth ſight was to behold,
How he did ſaſhion his vntoward pace,
For as he forward mooud his footing old,
So backward ſtill was turnd his wrinkled face,
Vnlike to men, who euer as they trace,
Both feet and face one way are wont to lead.
This was the auncient keeper of that place,
And ſofter father of the Gyaunt dead;
His name *Ignaro* did his nature right aread.

His reuerend heares and holy grauitee
The knight much honord, as befeemed well,
And gently askt, where all the people bee,
Which in that ſtately building wont to dwell.
Who anſwerd him full ſoft, he could not tell.
Againe he askt, where that ſame knight was layd,
Whom great *Orgoglio* with his puſſaunce ſell
Had made his caytive thrall; againe he ſayde,
He could not tell: ne euer other anſwere made.

H 2

Then

The first Booke of

Cant. VIII.

114

Then asked he, which way he in might pas:
He could not tell, againe he anſwered.
Thereat the courteous knight diſpleaſed was,
And ſaid, Old ſyre, it ſeemes thou haſt not red
How ill it fits with that ſame filuer hed,
In vaine to mocke, or mockt in vaine to bee:
But if thou be, as thou art pourtrahed
With natures pen, in ages graue degree,
Aread in grauer wife, what I demaund of thee,

His anſwere likewife was, he could not tell.
Whose ſenceleſſe ſpeach, and doted ignorance
When as the noble Prince had marked well,
He gheſt his nature by his countenance,
And calmd his wrath with goodly temperance.
Then to him ſtepping, from his arme did reach
Thoſe keyes, and made him ſelſe free enterance,
Each dore he opened without any breach;
There was no barre to ſtop, nor foe him to empeach.

There all within full rich arayd he found,
With royall arras and reſplendent gold,
And did with ſtore of ſeuery thing abound,
That greatest Princes prefence might behold,
But all the floore (too filthy to be told)
With blood of guiltleſſe babes, and innocents trew,
Which there were ſlaine, as sheepe out of the fold,
Defiled was, that dreadfull was to vew,
And sacred aſhes ouer it was ſtrowed new.

And there beſide of marble ſtone was built
An Altare, caru'd with cunning ymagery,
On which trew Chriſtians blood was often ſpilt,
And holy Martyres often doen to dye,

With

the Faery Queene.

115

Cant. VIII.

With cruell malice and ſtrong tyranny:
Whose bleſſed ſprites from vnderneath the ſtone
To God for vengeance cryde continually,
And with great grieſe were often heard to grone,
That hardeſt heart would bleede, to heare their piteous
(mone).

Through euery rowme he ſought, and euerie bowr,
But no where could he find that woſull thrall :
At laſt he came vnto an yron doore,
That faſt was lockt, but key found not at all
Emongſt that bounch, to open it withall;
But in the ſame a little grate was pight,
Through which he ſent his voyce, and lowd did call
With all his powre, to weet, if liuing wight
Were houſed therewithin, whom he enlargen might.

Therewith an hollow, dreary, murmuring voyce
These pitteous plaintes and dolours did reſound;
O who is that, which bringes me happy choyce
Of death, that here lye dying euery ſtound,
Yet liue perſorce in balefull darkeneſſe bound?
For now three Moones haue chāged thrice their hew,
And haue beene thrice hid vnderneath the ground,
Since I the heauens chearefull face did vew,
O welcome thou, that doeſt of death bring tydings trew.

Which whé that Champion heard, with percing point
Of pitty deare his hart was thrilled ſore,
And trembling horrour ran through euery ioynt,
For ruth of gentle knight ſo fowle forlore :
Which ſhaking off, he rent that yron doore,
With ſurious force, and indignation ſell;
Where entred in, his foot could find no flore,
But all a deepe DESCENT, as darke as hell,
That breathed euer forth a filthie banefull ſmell.

H 3

But

116 The first Booke of Cant. V III.

But neither darkenesse fowle, nor filthy bands,
Nor noyous smell his purpose could withhold,
(Entire affection hateth nicer hands)
But that with constant zele, and corage bold,
After long paines and labors manifold,
He found the meanes that Prifoner vp to reare;
Whose feeble thighes, vnable to vphold
His pined corse, him scarfe to light could beare,
A ruefull spectacle of death and ghaftly drere.

His fad dull eies deepe funck in hollow pits,
Could not endure th'vnwonted funne to view;
His bare thin checkes for want of better bits,
And empty fides deceiued of their dew,
Could make a stony hart his hap to rew;
His rawbone armes, whose mighty brawned bowes
Were wont to riue steele plates, and helmets hew,
Were clene consum'd, and all his vitall powres
Decayd, and al his fleth shronk vp like withered flowres.

Whome when his Lady saw, to him she ran
With hafty ioy: to see him made her glad,
And fad to view his visage pale and wan,
Who earft in flowres of fresh heft youth was clad.
Tho when her well of teares she wafted had,
She faid, Ah deareft Lord, what euill starre
On you hath frownd, and pourd his influence bad,
That of your ſelfe ye thus berobbed arre,
And this miffleeming hew your māly looks doth marre

But welcome now my Lord, in wele or woe,
Whose prefence I haue lackt too long a day;
And ſie on Fortune mine auowed foe,
Whose wrathful wreakes them ſelues doe now alay.
And

117 Cant. VIII. the Faery Queene.

And for theſe wronges ſhall treble penaunce pay
Of treble good: good growes of euils prieſe.
The cheareleſſe man, whom forow did difmay,
Had no delight to treaten of his grieſe;
His long endured famine needed more relieſe.

Faire Lady, then ſaid that vijtorious knight,
The things, that grieuous were to doe, or beare,
Them to renew, I wote, breeds no delight;
Beſt muſicke breeds delight in loathing eare:
But th'only good, that growes of paffed ſteare,
Is to be wife, and ware of like agein.
This daies enſample hath this leſſon deare
Deepe written in my heart with yron pen,
That bliffe may not abide in ſtate of mortall men.

Henceforth Sir knight, take to you wonted ſtrength,
And maiſter theſe miſhaps with patient might;
Loe wher your foe lies ſtretcht in monſtrous length,
And loe that wicked woman in your fight,
The roote of all your care, and wretched plight,
Now in your powre, to let her liue, or die.
To doe her die (qd. Vna) were deſpight,
And ſhame t'auenge ſo weake an enimy;
But ſpoile her of her ſcarlot robe, and let her fly.

So as ſhe bad, that witch they diſaraide,
And robd of roiall robes, and purple pall,
And ornaments that richly were diſplaid;
Ne ſpared they to ſtrip her naked all.
Then when they had deſpoyld her tire and call,
Such as ſhe was, their eies might her behold,
That her miſhaped parts did them appall,
A loathly, wrinkled hag, ill ſauoured, old,
Whose ſecret filth good manners biddeth not be told,

H 4

Her

The first Booke of

Cant. VIII.

118

Her crafty head was altogether bald,
And as in hate of honorable eld,
Was ouergrowne with scurfe and filthy scald;
Her teeth out of her rotten gummes were feld,
And her fowre breath abhominably ſmeld;
Her dried dugs, lyke bladders lacking wind,
Hong downe, and filthy matter from them weld;
Her wrizled ſkin as rough, as maple rind,
So ſcabby was, that would haue loathd all womankind.

Her neather parts, the ſhame of all her kind,
My chaſter Mufe for ſhame doth bluſh to write;
But at her rompe ſhe growing had behind
A foxes taile, with dong all fowly dight;
And eke her ſeete moſt monſtrous were in fight;
For one of them was like an Eagles claw,
With griping talaunts armd to greedy fight,
The other like a beares vneuen paw:

More vgly ſhape yet neuer liuing creature ſaw.

Which when the knights beheld, amazd they were,
And wondred at ſo fowle deformed wight.
Such then (ſaid Vna) as ſhe ſeemeth here,
Such is the face of falſhood, ſuch the ſight
Of fowle Dueſſa, when her borrowed light
Is laid away, and counter ſeauunce knowne.
Thus when they had the witch diſrobed quight,
And all her filthy feature open ſhowne,
They let her goe at will, and wander waies vnknowne

Shee flying faſt from heauens hated face,
And from the world that her diſcouered wide,
Fled to the waſtfull wilderneſſe apace,
From liuing eies her open ſhame to hide,

And

the Faery Queene

Cant. IX.

And lurkt in rocks and caues long vnſpide.
But that faire crew of knights, and Vna faire
Did in that caſtle afterwards abide,
To reſt them ſelues, and weary powres repaire,
Where ſtore they ſownd of al, that dainty was and rare.

Cant. IX.

His loues and lignage Arthure tells
the knights knitt friendly hands:
Sir Treuſan flies from Deſpeyre,
Whom Redcros knight withstands.

O Goodly golden chayne, wherewith yfere
The vertues linked are in louely wize:
And noble mindes of yore allyed were,
In braue pourſuitt of cheualrous emprize,
That none did others ſafety deſpize,
Nor aid enuy to him, in need that ſtands,
But friendly each did others praeſe deuize,
How to aduaunce with fauourable hands, (bands)
As this good Prince redeemd the Redcroſſe knight from

Who when their powres empayrd through labor long,
With dew repaſt they had recured well,
And that weake captiue wight now wexed ſtrong,
Them lift no lenger there at leaſure dwell,
But forward fare, as their aduentures fell,
But ere they parted, Vna faire beſought
That ſtraunger knight his name and nation tell;
Leaſt ſo great good, as he for her had wrought,
Should die vnknown, & buried be in thankles thought.

Faire

119

The firſt Booke of

120

Cant. I X.

Faire virgin (said the Prince) yee me require
A thing without the compas of my witt:
For both the lignage and the certein Sire,
From which I sprong, from mee are hidden yitt,
For all so foone as life did me admitt
Into this world, and shewed heuens light,
From mothers pap I taken was vnſt:
And ſtreight deliuered to a Fary knight,
To be vpbrought in gentle thewes and martiall might.

Vnto old Timon he me brought byliue,
Old Timon, who in youthly yeares hath beene
In warlike feates th'experteſt man aliue,
And is the wifef now on earth I weene;
His dwelling is low in a valley greene,
Vnder the foot of Rauran moffy hore,
From whence the riuer Dee as filuer cleene
His tombling dillowes rolls with gentle rore:
There all my daies he traind mee vp in vertuous lore.

Thether the great magicien Merlin came,
As was his vſe, ofttimes to viſitt mee
For he had charge my diſcipline to frame,
And Tutors nouriture to ouerſee.
Him oft and oft I aſſkt in priuity,
Of what loines and what lignage I did ſpring.
Whofe aunſwere bad me ſtill affured bee,
That I was ſonne and heire vnto a king,
As time in her iuſt term the truth to light ſhould bring.

Well worthy impe, faid then the Lady gent,
And Pupill ſitt for ſuch a Tutors hand.
But what aduenture, or what high intent
Hath brought you hether into Fary land,

Arcad

the Faery Queene.

121

Cant. I X.

Aread Prince Arthure, crowne of Martiall band?
Full hard it is (qd. he) to read aright
The course of heauenly caufe, or vnderſtand
The ſecret meaning of th'eternall might, (wight.
That rules mens waies, and rules the thoughts of Iuing

For whether he through fatal deepe foresight
Me hither ſent, for caufe to me vngheſt,
Or that fresh bleeding wound, which day and night
Whilome doth rancle in my riuen breſt,
With forced fury following his beheſt,
Me hether brought by waves yet neuer found,
You to haue helpt I hold my ſelſe yet bleſt.
Ah courteous knight (quoth ſhe) what ſecret wound
Could euer find, to grieue the gentleft hart on ground?

Deare Dame (quoth he) you ſleeping ſparkes awake,
Which troubled once, into huge flames will grow,
Ne euer will their feruent fury ſlake,
Till liuing moyſture into ſmoke do flow,
And waſted life doe lye in aſhes low.
Yet ſithens ſilence leſſeneth not my fire,
But told it flames, and hidden it does glow,
I will reuele, what ye ſo much deſire:
Ah Loue, lay down thy bow, that whiles I may reſp,

It was in freſheſt flowre of youthly yeares,
When corage firſt does creepe in manly cheſt,
Then firſt that cole of kindly heat appears
To kindle loue in euery liuing breſt;
But me had warnd old Cleons wife beheſt,
Thofe creeping flames by reaſon to ſubdew,
Before their rage grew to ſo great vnreſt,
As miſerable louers vſe to rew,
Which ſtill wex old in woe, whiles wo ſtill wexeth new.

That

122

The first Booke of

Cant. I X,

That ydle name of loue, and louers life,
As loſſe of time, and vertues enimy
I euer ſcornd, and ioyd to ſtirre vp ſtrife,
In middeſt of their mournfull Tragedy,
Ay wont to laugh, when them I heard to cry,
And blow the fire, which them to aſhes brent:
Their God himſelfe, gtieud at my libertie,
Shott many a dart at me with ſiers intent,
But I them warded all with wary gouernment.

But all in vaine: no fort can be ſo ſtrong,
Ne fleſhly breſt can armed be ſo ſownd,
But will at laſt be wonne with battrie long,
Or vnawares at diſauantage ſownd:
Nothing is ſure, that growes on earthly grownd:
And who moſt truſtes in arme of fleſhly might,
And boastes, in beauties chaine not to be bown,
Doth ſooneſt fall in diſauentrous fight,
And yeeldes his caytiue neck to viſtours moſt deſpight,

Enſample make of him your hapleſſe ioy,
And of my ſelfe now mated, as ye ſee;
Whose prouder vaunt that proud auenging boy
Did ſoone pluck downe, and curbd my libertee.
For on a day prickt forth with iollitee
Of looſer life, and heat of hardiment,
Raunging the foreſt wide on courſer free,
The fields, the floods, the heauens with one conſent
Did ſeeme to laugh at me, and fauour mine intent.

For wearied with my ſportes, I did alight
From loftie ſteed, and downe to ſleepe me layd;
The verdant gras my couch did goodly dight,
And pillow was my helmet ſayre diſplayd:

Whiles

123

Cant. I X.

the Faery Queene.

Whiles euery ſence the humour ſweet embayd,
And ſlombring ſoft my hart did ſteale away
Me ſeemed, by my ſide a royall Mayd
Her daintie limbes full ſoftly down did lay:
So ſayre a creature yet ſaw neuer ſunny day.

Moſt goodly glee and louely blandiſhment
She to me made, and badd me loue her deare;
For dearely ſure her loue was to me bent,
As when iuſt time expired ſhould appeare.
But whether dreames delude, or true it were,
Was neuer hart ſo rauiſht with delight,
Ne liuing man like wordes did euer heare,
As the to me deliuered all that night;
And at her parting ſaid, She Queene of Faries hight.

When I awoke, and found her place deuoyd,
And nought but preſſed gras where ſhe had lyen,
I ſorrowed all ſo much, as earſt I ioyd,
And waſhed all her place with watry eyen.
From that day forth I lou'd that face diuyne;
From that day forth I caſt in carefull mynd,
To ſeeke her out with labor, and long tyne,
And neuer vowd to reſt, till her I ſynd,
Nyne monethes I ſeek in vain yet ni'll that vow vnbynd.

Thus as he ſpake, his viſage wexed pale,
And chaunge of hew great paſſion did bewray;
Yett ſtill he ſtroue to cloke his inward bale,
And hide the ſmoke, that did his fire diſplay,
Till gentle Vna thus to him gan ſay,
O happy Queene of Faries, that haſt ſownd
Mongſt many, one that with his proweſſe may
Defend thine honour, and thy foes confownd:
True Loues are oft ſown, but ſeldom grow on grownd

Thine

124

The first Booke of Cant. IX.

Thine, O then, said the gentle Redcroſſe knight,
Next to that Ladies loue, ſhalbe the place,
O fayreſt virgin, full of heauenly light,
Whof wondrous faith, exceeding earthly race,
Was firmelt fixt in myne extremelt caſe.
And you, my Lord, the Patrone of my life,
Of that great Queene may well gaine worthie grace:
For onely worthie you through prowes prieſe
Yf liuing man mote worthie be, to be her lieſe.

So diuerſly diſcourſing of their loues,
The golden Sunne his gliftring head gan ſhew,
And ſad remembraunce now the Prince amoues,
With fresh defire his voyage to purſew:
Als Vnae eard her traueuill to renew.
Then thofe two knights, faſt friendſhip for to bynd,
And loue eſtabliſh each to other trew,
Gaue goodly gifts, the ſignes of gratefull mynd,
And eke as pledges firme, right hands together ioynd.

Prince Arthur gaue a boxe of Diamond ſure,
Embowd with gold and gorgeous ornament,
Wherein were cloſd few drops of liquor pure,
Of wondrous worth, and vertue excellent,
That any wownd could heale incontinent:
Which to requite, the Redcroſſe knight him gaue
A booke, wherein this Saucours teſtament
Was writt with golden letters rich and braue;
A worke of wondrous grace, and hable foules to ſaue.

Thus beene they parted, Arthur on his way
To ſeeke his loue, and th'other for to fight
With Vnaes ſoe, that all her realme did pray.
But ſhe now weighing the decayed plight,

And

125

Cant. IX.

the Faerie Queene.

And ſhrunken ſyneſwes of her choſen knight,
Would not a while her forward courſe purſew,
Ne bring him forth in face of dreadfull fight,
Till he recouered had his former hew:
For him to be yet weake and wearie well ſhe knew.

So as they traueuill, lo they gan eſpy
An armed knight towards them gallop faſt,
That ſeemed from ſome ſeared ſoe to fly,
Or other griekely thing, that him aghaſt.
Still as he fledd, his eye was backward caſt,
As if his ſeare ſuſull followed him behynd;
Als flew his ſteed, as he his bandes had braſt,
And with his winged heeles did tread the wynd,
As he had beene a ſole of Pegaſus his kynd.

Nigh as he drew, they might perceite his head
To bee vnarmd, and curld vncombed heares
Vpſtaring ſtiffe, diſmaid with vncouth dread;
Nor drop of blood in all his face appears
Nor life in limbe: and to increafe his ſeares,
In fowle reproch of knighthoodes ſayre degree,
About his neck an hempen rope he weares,
That with his gliftring armes does ill agree;
But he of rope or armes has now no memore.

The Redcroſſe knight toward him croſſed faſt,
To weet, what miſter wight was ſo diſmayd:
There him he findes all ſenceleſſe and aghaſt,
That of him ſelſe he ſeemd to be affrayd,
Whom hardly he from flying forward ſtayd,
Till he theſe wordes to him deliuer might;
Sir knight, aread who hath ye thus arayd,
And eke from whom make ye this haſty flight:
For neuer knight I saw in ſuch miſſeeming plight.

Ye

126

The first Booke of

Cant. I, X,

He anſwerd nought at all, but adding new
Feare to his firſt amazment, ſtaring wyde
With ſtony eyes, and hartleſſe hollow hew,
Aſſonifſt ſtood, as one that had aſpyde
Infernall furies, with their chaines vntyde.
Him yett againe, and yett againe beſpake
The gentle knight, who nought to him replyde,
But trembling euery ioynt did inly quake, (ſhake,
And foltring tongue at laſt theſe words ſeemd forth to

For Gods deare loue, Sir knight, doe me not ſtay;
For loe he comes, he comes faſt after mee.
Eſt looking back would faine haue runne away;
But he him forſt to ſtay, and tellen free
The ſecrete cauſe of his perplexitie,
Yet nathemore by his bold hartie ſpeach,
Could his blood froſen hart emboldened bee,
But through his boldnes rather feare did reach,
Yett forſt, at laſt he made through ſilče ſuddein breach.

And am I now in ſafetie ſure (quoth he)
From him, that would haue forced me to dye.
And is the point of death now turnd fro mee,
That I may tell this hapleſſe hiftory?
Feare nought: (quoth he) no daunger now is nye?
Then ſhall I you recount a ruefull cace,
(Said he) the which with this vnlucky eye
I late beheld, and had not greater grace
Me reſt from it, had bene partaker of the place.

I lately chaunſt (Would I had neuer chaunſt)
With a fayre knight to keepen companee,
Sir Terwin hight, that well himſelſe aduaunſt
In all affayres, and was both bold and free,

But

Cant. IX.

the Faery Queene.

127

But not ſo happy as mote happy bee:
He lou'd, as was his lot, a Lady gent,
That him againe lou'd in the leaſt degree:
For ſhe was proud, and of too high intent,
And ioyd to ſee her louer languifh and lament.

From whom retourning ſad and comfortleſſe,
As on the way together we did fare,
We met that villen (God from him me bleſſe)
That curſed wight, from whom I ſcapt whyleare,
A man of hell, that calls himſelſe *Despayre* :
Who firſt vs greets, and after fayre arceedes
Of tydinges ſtraunge, and of aduentures rare:
So creeping cloſe, as Snake in hidden weedes,
Inquireth of our ſtates, and of our knightly deedes.

Which when he knew, and felt our feeble hartſ
Emboſt with bale, and bitter byting grieſe,
Which loue had launched with his deadly darts,
With wounding words and termes of ſoule reprieſe,
He pluckt from vs all hope of dew relieſe,
That earſt vs held in loue of lingring life;
Then hopeleſſe hartleſſe, gan the cunning thieſe
Perſwade vs dye, to ſtint all further ſtrife :
To me he lent this rope, to him a ruſty knife.

With which ſad inſtrument of haſty death,
That woſull louer, loathing lenger light,
A wyde way made to let forth liuing breath.
But I more fearefull, or more lucky wight,
Diſmayd with that deformed diſmall ſight,
Fledd ſaſt away, halſe dead with dying ſeare;
N eyet aſſur'd of life by you, Sir knight,
Whoſe like inſirmity like chaunce may beare :
But God you neuer let his charmed ſpeaches heare.

I

How

128 The first Booke of Cant. IX.

How may a man (said he) with idle speach
Be wonne, to spoyle the Castle of his health?
I wrote (quoth he) whom tryall late did teach,
That like would not for all this worldes wealth:
His subtile tong, like dropping honny, mealt
Into the heart, and searcheth euery vaine,
That ere one be aware, by secret stealth
His powre is reft, and weaknes doth remaine.
Oneuer Sir defire to try his guilefull traine.

Certes (fayd he) hence shall I neuer reft,
Till I that treachours art haue heard and tryde;
And you Sir knight, whose name mote I requeft,
Of grace do me vnto his cabin guyde.
I that hight *Treuisan* (quoth he) will ryde
Against my liking backe, to doe you grace:
But nor for gold nor glee will I abyde
By you, when ye arriue in that fame place;
For leuer had I die, then see his deadly face.

Ere long they come, where that fame wicked wight
His dwelling has, low in an hollow caue,
Far vnderneath a craggy clift yplight,
Darke, dolefull, dreary, like a greedy graue,
That still for carrion carcaſes doth craue:
On top whereof ay dwelt the ghaftly Owle,
Shrieking his balefull note, which euer draue
Far from that haunt all other chearefull fowle;
And all about it wandring ghoſtes did wayle & howle.

And all about old ſtockes and ſtubs of trees,
Whereon nor fruite, nor leafe was euer seene,
Did hang vpon the ragged rocky knees;
On which had many wretches hanged beene,

Whose

Cant. IX. the Faerie Queene. 129

Whose carcaſes were ſcattred on the greene,
And throwne about the clifts. Arriued there,
That bare-head knight for dread and dolefull teene,
Would faime haue fled, ne durſt approchen neare,
But th'other forſt him ſtaye, and comforted in ſeare.

That darkeſome cauë they enter, where they find
That curled man, low sitting on the ground,
Muſing full sadly in his ſullein mind;
His griefeſe lockes, long growen, and vnbound,
Diſordred hong about his ſhoulders round,
And hid his face, through which his hollow cyne
Lookt deadly dull, and ſtared as aftound;
His raw-bone checkes through penurie and pine,
Were ſhronke into his iawes, as he did neuer dyne.

His garment nought but many ragged clouts,
With thornes together pind and patched was,
The which his naked ſides he wrapt abouts;
And him beſide there lay vpon the gras
A dreary corſe, whose ſife away did pas,
All wallowed in his own yet luke-warme blood,
That from his wound yet welled fresh alas,
In which a rufſy knife faſt fixed ſtood,
And made an open paſſage for the guſhing flood.

Which piteous ſpectacle, approuing trew
The woſull tale, that *Treuisan* had told,
When as the gentle Redcrosſe knight did vew,
With firie zeale he burnt in courage bold,
Him to auenge, before his blood were cold,
And to the villein ſayd, Thou damned wight,
The authour of this faſt, we here behold,
What iuſtice can but iudge againſt thee right, (ſight.
With thine owne blood to price his blood, here ſhed in

What

I 2

The first Booke of

Cant. IX.

130

What franticke fit (quoth he) hath thus diftraught
Thee, foolish man, for a rash a doome to giue?

What iustice euer other iudgement taught,
But he should dye, who merites not to liue ?

None els to death this man defpayring driue,
But his owne guiltie mind deferuing death.

Is then vniiust to each his dew to giue ?

Or let him dye, that loatheth liuing breath ?

Or let him die at eafe, that liueth here vncath?

Who trauailes by the wearie wandring way,
To come vnto his wifhed home in haſte,

And meetes a flood, that doth his paſſage ſtay,
Is not great grace to helpe him ouer paſt,

Or free his feet, that in the myre ſticke ſaſt ?

Most enuious man, that grieues at neighbours good,
And fond, that ioyeſt in the woe thou haſt,

Why wilt not let him paſſe, that long hath ſtood
Vpon the bancke, yet wilt thy ſelfe not pas the flood?

He there does now enioy eternall reſt
And happy eafe, which thou doeſt want and craue,

And further from it daily wandereth:
What if some little payne the paſſage haue,

That makes frayle ſlesh to feare the bitter wae?

Is not ſhort payne well borne, that brings long eafe,
And layes the ſoule to sleepe in quiet graue ?

Sleepe after toyle, port after ſtormie ſeas,
Eaſe after warre, death after life does greatly pleafe.

The knight much wondred at his ſuddeine wit,
And ſayd, The terme of life limited,

Ne may a man prolong, nor ſhorten it;
The ſouldier may not moue from watch full ſted,

Nor

the Faery Queene.

131

Cant. I X.

Nor leaue his ſtand, vntill his Captaine bed.

Who life did limit by almightie doome,
(Quoth he) knowes beſt the terms eſtablished;

And he, that points the Centonell his roome,
Doth liceſe him depart at ſound of morning droome.

Is not his deed, what euer thing is donne,
In heauen and earth ? did not he all create,

To die againe ? all ends that was begonne.

Their times in his eternall booke of ſate

Are written ſure, and haue their certein date.

Who then can ſtrike with ſtrong neceſſitie,
That holds the world in his ſtill chaunging ſtate,

Or ſhunne the death ordaynd by deſtinie?

(why.)

What houre of death is come, let none aske whence, nor

The lenger life, I wote the greater ſin,

The greater ſin, the greater puniſhment:

All thole great battels, which thou boaſts to win,

Through ſtrife, and blood-ſhed, and auengement,

Now praysd, hereafter deare thou ſhalt repent:

For life muſt life, and blood muſt blood repay.

Is not enough thy euill life ſore ſpent ?

For he, that once hath miſſed the right way.

The further he doth goe, the further he doth ſtray.

Then doe no further goe, no further ſtray,

But here ly downe, and to thy reſt betake,
Th'ill to preuent, that life enſewen may.

For what hath life, that may it loued make,
And giues not rather cauſe it to forſake ?

Feare, ſickneſſe, age, loſſe, labour, ſorrow, ſtrife,

Payne, hunger, cold, that makes the hart to quake;

And euer fickle fortune rageth rife,

All which, and thouſands mo do make a loathſome life.

I 3

Thou

132 The first Booke of Cant. XI.

Thou wretched man, of death haſt greatest need,
If in true ballaunce thou wilt weigh thy state:
For neuer knight, that dared warlike deed,
More luckleſſ diffauentures did amate:
Witnes the dungeon deepe, wherein of late
Thy life flutt vp, for death ſo oft did call;
And though good lucke prolonged hath thy date,
Yet death then, would the like miſhaps forestall,
Into the which heareafter thou maſt happen fall.

Why then doesſt thou, O man of ſin, defire
To draw thy dayes forth to their laſt degree?
Is not the meaſure of thy ſinfull hire
High heaped vp with huge iniquitee,
Againſt the day of wrath, to burden thee?
Is not enough, that to this Lady mild
Thou falſeſt haſt thy faith with periuree,
And ſold thy ſelſe to ſerue Dueſſa vild,
With whom in al abuſe thou haſt thy ſelſe defiſd?

Is not he iuſt, that all this doth behold
From highest heuen, and beares an equall eie?
Shall he thy ſins vp in his knowledge ſold,
And guilty be of thine impieſtie?
Is not his lawe, Let euery ſinner die:
Die ſhall all fleſh? what then muſt needs be donne,
Is it not better to doe willinglie,
Then linger, till the glas be all out ronne?
Death is the end of woes: die ſoone, O faries ſonne.

The knight was much enmoued with his ſpeach,
That as a ſwords poynt through his hart did perſe,
And in his conſcience made a ſecrete breach,
Well knowing trew all, that he did reherſe,

And

133 the Faery Queene: Cant. IX.

And to his fresh remembraunce did reuerſe,
The vgly vew of his deformed crimes,
That all his manly powres it did disperſe,
As he were charmed with inchaunted rimes,
That oftentimes he quakt, and fainted oftentimes.

In which amazement, when the Miscreaunt
Perceiued him to wauer weake and fraile,
Whiles trembling horror did his conſcience daunt,
And helliſh anguifh did his ſoule affaile,
To driue him to deſpaire, and quite to quaile,
Hee ſhewd him painted in a table plaine,
The damned ghoſts, that doe in torments waile,
And thouſand ſeends that doe them endleſſe paine
With fire and brimſtone, which for euer ſhall remaine.

The fight whereof ſo throughly him diſmaid,
That nought but death before his eies he ſaw,
And euer burning wrath before him laid,
By righteous ſentence of th'Almighties law:
Then gan the villein him to ouercraw,
And brought vnto him ſwords, ropes, poſion, fire,
And all that might him to perdition draw;
And bad him choſe, what death he would deſire:
For death was dew to him, that had prouokt Gods ire.

But whenas none of them he ſaw him take,
He to him raught a dagger ſharpe and keene,
And gaue it him in hand: his hand did quake,
And tremble like a leafe of Aſpin greene,
And troubled blood through his pale face was ſeene
To come, and goe with tidings from the heart,
As it a ronning meſſenger had beene.
At laſt reſolu'd to worke his ſinall ſmart,
He lifted vp his hand, that backe againe did ſtart.

I 4

Which

The first Booke of Cant. IX.

134

Which whenas Vna heard, through euery vaine
The crudled cold ran to her well of life,
As in a fwowne: but soone reliu'd againe,
Out of his hand the snatcht the curled knife,
And threw it to the ground, enraged rife,
And to him said, Fie fie, faint hearted knight,
What meanest thou by this reprochfull rife?
Is this the battaile, which thou vauntft to fight
With that fire-mouthed Dragon, horrible and bright

Come, come away, fraile, feeble, fleshly wight,
Ne let vaine words bewitch thy manly hart,
Ne diuelifh thoughts difmay thy conftant (bright,
In heauenly mercies haft thou not a part?
Why shouldft thou then despeire, that choſen art?
Where iuſtice growes, there grows eke greeter grace,
The which doth quench the brond of heliſh ſmart,
And that accurſt hand-writing doth deſace.
Arife, Sir knight arife, and leaue this curſed place,

So vp he roſe, and thence amounted ſtreight.
VWhich when the carle beheld, and law his gueſt
VWould ſafe depart, for all his ſubtle ſleight,
He choſe an halter from among the reſt,
And with it hong him ſelſe, vnbid vnbleſt.
But death he could not worke him ſelſe thereby,
For thouſand times he ſo him ſelſe had dreſt,
Yet natheleſſe it could not doe him die,
Till he ſhould die his laſt, that is eternally.

Cant.

the Faery Queene

135

Cant. X.

Her fait h full knight faire Una brings
To house of Holineſſe,
Where he is taught repentaunce, and
The way to heuenly bleſſe.

W
hat man is he, that boaste of fleshly might,
And vaine affuraunce of mortality,
Which all ſo ſoone, as it doth come to fight,
A gainſt ſpirituall foes, yields by and by,
Or from the ſielde moſt cowardly doth fly?
Ne let the man aſcribe it to his skill,
That thorough grace hath gained victory.
If any ſtrength we haue, it is to ill,
But all the good is Gods, both power and eke will.

By that, which lately hapned, Vnaſaw,
That this her knight was feeble, and too faint;
And all his ſinewes woxen weake and raw,
Through long enprifonment, and hard conſtraint,
Which he endured in his late reſtraint,
That yet he was vnſitt for bloo ly fight:
Therefore to cheriſh him with diets daint,
She caſt to bring him, where he chearen might,
Till he recouered had his late decayed plight.

There was an auncient house not far away,
Renowmd throughout the world for ſacred lore,
And pure vnſpotted life: ſo well they ſay
It gouernd was, and guided euermore,

Through

136 The first Booke of

Cant. X.

Through wifedome of a matrone graue and hore;
Whose onely ioy was to relieve the needes
Of wretched foules, and helpe the helpeleffe pore;
All night she spent in bidding of her bedes,
And all the day in doing good and godly deedes.

Dame Calia men did her call, as thought
From heauen to come, or thither to arife,
The mother of three daughters, well vp brought
In goodly thewes, and godly exercife:
The eldest two moſt sober, chaſt, and wife,
Fidelia and Speranza virgins were,
Though ſpouſd, yet wanting wedlocks Solemnize;
But faire Chariffa to a louely ſere
Was lincked, and by him had many pledges dere.

Arriued there, the dore they find faſt lockt;
For it was waredy watched night and day,
For feare of many foes: but when they knockt,
The Porter opened vnto them ſtreight way:
He was an aged ſyre, all hory gray,
With lookes full lowly chaſt, and gate full flow,
Wont on a ſtaffe his feeble ſteps to stay,
Hight Humiltá. They paſſe in ſtouping low;
For ſtreight & narrow was the way, which he did ſhow.

Each goodly thing is hardeſt to begin,
But entred in a ſpatious court they ſee,
Both plaine, and pleasaunt to be walked in,
VWhere them does meete a francklin faire and free,
And entertaines with comely courteous glee,
His name was Zele, that him right well became,
For in his ſpeaches and behaueour hee
Did labour liuelly to expreſſe the fame,
And gladly did them guide, till to the Hall they came.

There

Cant. X. the Faëry Queene.

137

There fayrely them receiues a gentle Squyre,
Of myld demeanure, and rare courteſee,
Right cleanly clad in comely ſad attyre;
In word and deede that ſhewd great modeſtee,
And knew his good to all of each degree,
Hight Reuerence. He them with ſpeaches meet
Does faire entreat; no courting nicetee,
But ſimple trew, and eke vnſained ſweet,
As might become a Squyre so great perſons to greet.

And afterwardes them to his Dame he leades,
That aged Dame, the Lady of the place:
Who all this while was busy at her bedes:
Which doen, ſhe vp aſoſe with ſeemely grace,
And toward them full matronely did pace.
Where when that faireſt Vna ſhe beheld,
Whom well ſhe knew to ſpring from heuenly race,
Her heart with ioy vnwonted inly ſweld,
As feeling wondrous comfort in her weaker eld.

And her embracing ſaid, O happy earth,
Whereon thy innocent feet doe euer tread,
Moſt vertuous virgin borne of heuenly berth,
That to redeem thy woefull parents head,
From tyrans rage, and euer-dying dread,
Haſt wandred through the world now long a day;
Yett ceaſſed not thy weary ſoles to lead,
What grace hath thee now hether brought this way?
Or doe thy feeble ſeet vnweeting hether ſtray?

Straunge thing it is an errant knight to ſee
Here in this place, or any other wight,
That hether turnes his ſteps. So few there bee,
That choſe the narrow path, or ſeeke the right:

All

138

The first Booke of

Cant. X.

All keepe the broad high way, and take delight
With many rather for to goe astray,
And be partakers of their euill plight,
Then with a few to walke the righteft way;
O foolish men, why haft ye to your owne decay?

Thy selfe to see, and tyred limbes to reft,
O matrone sage (quoth she) I hether came,
And this good knight his way with me addreft,
Ledd with thy prayſes and broad-blazed fame,
That vp to heuen is blowne. The auncient Dame,
Him goodly greeted in her modeſt guyſe,
And enterteynd them both, as beſt became,
With all the court ſies, that ſhe could deuyſe,
Ne wanted ought, to ſhew her bounteous or wife.

Thus as they gan of ſondrie thinges deuife,
Loe two moſt goodly virgins came in place,
Ylinked arme in arme in louely wife,
With countenance demure, and modeſt grace,
They numbred euen ſteps and equall pace:
Of which the eldeſt, that *Fidelia* hight,
Like funny beames threw from her Chriftall face,
That could haue dazd the rafh beholders ſight,
And round about her head did ſhine like heuens light.

She was aried all in lilly white,
And in her right hand bore a cup of gold,
With wine and water ſild vp to the hight,
In which a Serpent did himſelfe enfold,
That horrour made to all, that did behold;
But ſhe no whitt did chaunge her conſtant mood:
And in her other hand ſhe faſt did hold
A booke that was both ſignd and ſeald with blood,
Wherin darke things were writt, hard to be vndertood.
Her

Her

Cant. X.

the Faery Queene.

139

Her younger Sifter, that *Speranza* hight,
Was clad in blew, that her beſeemed well;
Not all ſo chearefull beſeemed ſhe of ſight,
As was her Sifter, whether dread did dwell,
Or anguith in her hart, is hard to tell:
Vpon her arme a filuer anchor lay,
Whereon ſhe leaned euer, as beſell:
And euer vp to heuen, as ſhe did pray,
Her ſtedfaſt eyes were bent, ne ſwarued other way.

They ſeeing *Vna*, towardes her gan wend,
Who them encounters with like courteſe;
Many kind ſpeeches they betweene them ſpend,
And greatly ioy each other for to ſee:
Then to the knight with ſhamefaſt modeſtie
They turne them ſelues, at *Vnaes* meeke requeſt,
And him ſalute with well beſeeming glee;
Who faire them quites, as him beſeemed beſt,
And goodly gan diſcourſe of many a noble geſt.

Then *Vna* thus; But ſhe your Sifter deare,
The deare *Chariffa* where is ſhe become?
Or wants ſhe health, or bufſe is elsewhere?
Ah no, ſaid they, but forth ſhe may not come:
For ſhe of late is lightned of her wombe,
And hath encreaſt the world with one ſonne more,
That her to ſee ſhould be but troublſome.
Indeed (quoth ſhe) that ſhould be troublſore,
But thankt be God, and her encreaſe ſo euermore.

Then ſaide the aged *Cælia*, Deare dame,
And you good Sir, I wote that of youre toyle,
And labors long, through which ye hether came,
Ye both for wearied be: therefore a whyle.

I read

140

The first Booke of
Cant. X.

I read you rest, and to your bowres recoyle.
Then called she a Groome, that forth him ledd
Into a goodly lodge, and gan depoile
Of puiflant armes, and laid in eafie bedd;
His name was meeke Obedience rightfully aredd.

Now when their wearie limbes with kindly rest,
And bodies were refresth with dew repaft,
Fayre Vna gan Fidelia fayre requeft;
To haue her knight into her schoolehous plaſte,
That of her heauenly learning he might taſte,
And heare the wifedom of her wordes diuine.
She graunted, and that knight ſo much agraſte,
That ſhe him taught celestiall discipline,
And opened his dull eyes, that light mote in them ſhine.

And that her ſacred Booke, with blood ywritt,
That none could reade, except ſhe did them teach,
She vnto him diſcloſed euery whitt,
And heauenly documents thereout did preach;
That weaker witt of man could neuer reach,
Of God, of grace, of iuſtice, of free will,
That wonder was to heare her goodly ſpeach:
For ſhe was hable, with her wordes to kill,
And rayſe againe to life the hart, that ſhe did thrill.

And when ſhe lift poure out her larger ſpright,
She would commaund the haſty Sunne to ſtay,
Or backward turne his course from heuens hight;
Sometimes great hoſtes of men ſhe could diſmay,
And eke huge mountaines from their native ſeat
She would commaund, them ſelues to beare away,
And throw in raging ſea with roaring threat. (great)
Almightie God her gaue ſuch powre, and puiffaunce
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The

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Cant. X. the Faerie Queene.

The faithfull knight now grew in little ſpace,
By hearing her, and by her lifters lore,
To ſuch perfection of all heuenly grace;
That wretched world he gan for to abhore,
And mortall life gan loath, as thing forlore,
Greeud with remembrance of his wicked wayes,
And pricct with anguifh of his finnes ſo ſore,
That he defirde, to end his wretched dayes:
So much the dart of ſinfull guilt the ſoule diſmayes,

But wife Speranza gaue him comfort ſweet,
And taught him how to take affured hold
Vpon her filuer anchor, as was meet;
Els had his finnes ſo great, and manifold
Made him forget all, that Fidelia told.
In this diſtressed doubtfull agony,
When him his deareſt Vna did behold,
Diſdeining life, deſiring leaue to dye,
She found her ſelfe affayld with great perplexity

And came to Cælia to declare her ſmarr,
Who well acquainted with that commune plight,
Which ſinfull horror workes in wounded hart,
Her wifely comforted all, that ſhe might,
With goodly counſell and aduifement right,
And ſtreightway ſent with careful diligence,
To fetch a Leach, the which had great inſight
In that diſeafe of grieued conſience,
And well could cure the ſame; His name was Patience.

Who comming to that fowle-diſeafed knight,
Could hardly him intreat, to tell his grief;
Which knowne, and all that noyd his heauie ſpright,
Well ſeardcht, eftsoones he gan apply relief.

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Of ſalues and med'cines, which had paſſing prief,
And there to added wordes of wondrous might:
By which to eafe he him recured brief,
And much aſwag'd the paſſion of his plight,
That he his paine endur'd, as ſeeming now more ligh.

But yet the caufe and root of all his ill,
Inward corruption, and inſected ſin,
Not purg'd nor heald, behind remained ſtill,
And ſeſtring ſore did ranckle yett within,
Cloſe creeping twixt the marow and the ſkin.
Which to extirp e, he laid him priuily
Downe in a dark ſome lowly place far in,
Whereas he meant his corroſiues to apply,
And with ſtreight diet tame his ſtubborne malady.

In aſhes and ſackcloth he did array
His daintie corſe, proud humors to abate,
And dieted with aſting euery day,
The ſwelling of his woundes to mitigate,
And made him pray both earely and eke late:
And euer as ſuperfluous ſlesh did rott
*Amendment* readie ſtill at hand did wayt,
To pluck it out with pincers ſyrie whott,
That ſoone in him was lefte no one corrupted iott.

And bitter Penaunce with an yron whip,
Was wont him once to diſple euery day:
And ſharpe Remorſe his hart did prick and nip,
That drops of blood thence like a well did play;
And ſad Repentance ſed to embay,
His blamefull body in ſalt water ſore,
The filthy blottes of ſin to waſh away.
So in ſhort ſpace they did to health reſtore (dore
The man that would not liue, but erſt lay at deathes

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Cant. X. the Faery Queene.

In which his torment often was ſo great,
That like a Lyon he would cry and rore,
And rend his ſlesh, and his owne ſynewes eat.
His owne deare Vna hearing euermore
His ruefull ſhriekes and gronings, often tore
Her guiltlesſe garments, and her golden heare,
For pitty of his payne and anguifh ſore;
Yet all with patience wiserly ſhe did beare;
For well ſhe wift, his cryme could els be neuer cleare.

Whom thus recouer'd by wife Patience,
And trew Repentaunce they to Vna brought;
Who ioyous of his cured ſonſcience,
Him dearely kift, and fayrely eke beſought
Himſelfe to chearifh, and confuming thought
To put away out of his carefull breſt.
By this Chariffa, late in child-bed brought,
Was woxen ſtrong, and left her fruitfull neſt;
To her fayre Vna brought this vnacquainted gueſt.

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 eafe to compare;
Full of great loue, but Cupids wanton ſnare
As hell the hated, chafte in worke and will;
Her necke and breſts were euer open bare,
That ay thereof her babes might fucke their fill;
The reſt was all in yellow robes arayed ſtill.

A multitude of babes about her hong,
Playing their ſportes, that ioyd her to behold,
Whom ſtill ſhe fed, whiles they were weak & young,
But thrufft them forth ſtill, as they wexed old :
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And on her head she wore a tyre of gold,
Adorn with gemmes and owches wondrous fayre,
Who seft pafting price vneath was to be told;
And by her fye there fate a gentle payre.
Of turtle doues, she sitting in an yuory chayre.

The knight and Vna entring, fayre her greet,
And bid her ioy of that her happy brood;
Who them requites with court ſies feeming meet,
And entertaynes with friendly chearefull mood.
Then Vna her befought, to be so good,
As in her vertuous rules to schoole her knight,
Now after all his torment well withstood,
In that ſad house of Penuunce, where his ſpright
Had palt the paines of hell, and long enduring night.

She was right toyious of her iuft requeſt,
And taking by the hand that Faeries ſonne,
Gan him inſtruct in euerie good beheſt,
Of loue, and righteouſnes, and well to donne,
And wrath, and hatred warely to ſhonne,
That drew on men Gods hatred, and his wrath,
And many ſoules in dolours had fordonne:
In which when him ſhe well inſtructed hath,
From thence to heauſe ſhe teacheth him the ready path.

Wherein his weaker wandring ſteps to guyde,
An auncient matrone ſhe to her does call,
Whoſe ſober lookse her wifedome well deſcryde:
Her name was *Mercy*, well knowne ouer all,
To be both gratious, and eke liberall:
To whom the carefull charge of him ſhe gaue,
To leade aright, that he should neuer fall
In all his waies through this wide worldes waue,
That *Mercy* in the end his righcieous ſoule might faue.

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145

The godly Matrone by the hand him beares
Forth from her prefence, by a narrow way,
Scattred with buſhy thornes, and ragged breares,
Which ſtill before him ſhe remou'd away,
That nothing might his ready paſſage ſtay:
And euer when his feet encombred were,
Or gan to ſhrinke, or from the right to ſtray,
She held him palt, and firmly did vpbeare,
As careful Nourſe her child from falling oft does reare.

Eſtſoones vnto an holy Hofpitall,
That was fore by the way, ſhe did him bring,
In which ſeuen Bead-men that had vowed all
Their life to ſeruice of high heauens king
Did ſpend their daies in doing godly thing:
There gates to all were open euermore,
That by the wearie way were traneiling,
And one ſate wayting euer them before,
To call in commers by, that needy were and pore.

The firſt of them that eldeſt was, and beſt,
Of all the houſe had charge and gouernement,
As Guardian and Steward of the reſt:
His office was to giue entertainement
And lodging, vnto all that came, and went:
Not vnto ſuch, as could him ſeaſt againe,
And double quite, for that he on them ſpent,
But ſuch, as want of harbour did conſtraine:
That ſe for Gods ſake his dewty was to entertaine.

The ſecond was as Almner of the place,
His office was, the hungry for to feed,
And thrifty giue to drinke, a worke of grace:
He ſeard not once him ſelſe to be in need,

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Ne car'd to hoord for thofe, whom he did breede:
The grace of God he layd vp still in store,
Which as a stocke he left vnto his feede;
He had enough, what need him care for more?
And had he leffe, yet some he would giue to the pore.

The third had of their wardrobe custody,
In which were not rich tyres, nor garments gay,
The plumes of pride, and winges of vanity,
But clothes meet to keepe keene cold away,
And naked nature seemely to aray;
With which bare wretched wights he dayly clad,
The images of God in earthly clay;
And if that no spare clothes to giue he had,
His owne cote he would cut, and it diſtribute glad.

The fourth appointed by his office was,
Poore prifoners to relieue with gratious ayd,
And captiues to redeeme with price of bras,
From Turkes and Sarazins, which them had ſtayd;
And though they faulty were, yet well he wayd,
That God to vs forgiueth euery howre
Much more then that, why they in bands were layd,
And he that harrowd hell with heauie ſtowre,
The faulty ſoules from thence brought to his heauenly
(bowre.

The fifth had charge ſick perſons to attend,
And comfort thofe, in point of death which lay;
For them moſt needeth comfort in the end,
When ſin, and hell, and death doe moſt diſmay
The feeble ſoule departing hence away.
All is but loft, that liuing we beſtow,
If not well ended at our dying day.
O man haue mind of that laſt bitter throw,
For as the tree does fall, so lyes it euer low.

The

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The fixt had charge of them now being dead,
In seemely ſort their corſes to engraue,
And deck with dainty flowres their brydall bed,
That to their heauenly ſpouse ſoth both ſweet and braue
They might appeare, when he their ſoules ſhall ſaue.
The wondrous workmanship of Gods owne mould,
Whofe face he made, all beaſtes to ſeare, and gaue
All in his hand, euen dead we honour ſhould.

Ah deareſt God me graunt, I dead be not deſould.

The ſeuenth now after death and buriall done,
Had charge the tender Orphans of the dead
And wydowes ayd, leaſt they ſhould be vndone:
In face of iudgement he their right would plead,
Ne ought the powre of mighty men did dread
In their defence, nor would for gold or fee
Be wonne their rightfull cauſes downe to tread:
And when they ſtood in moſt neceſſitee,
He did ſupply their want, and gaue them euer free.

There when the Elſin knight arriued was,
The first and chiefest of the ſeuen, whofe care
Was gueſts to welcome, towardes him did pas:
Where ſeeing Mercie, that his ſteps vpbare,
And alwaies led, to her with reuerence rare
He humbly louted in meeke lowlineſſe,
And seemely welcome for her did prepare :
For of their order ſhe was Patroneſſe,
Albe Chariffa were their chiefest foundereſſe.

There ſhe awhile him ſtayes, him ſelfe to reſt,
That to the reſt more hable he might bee :
During which time, in euery good beheſt
And godly worke of Almes and charitee

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Shee him instru'ted with great induſtree;
Shortly therein ſo perfect he became,
That from the firſt vnto the laſt degree,
His mortall life he learned had to frame
In holy righteouſneſſe, without rebuke or blame,

Thence forward by that painfull way they pas,
Forth to an hill, that was both ſteepe and hy;
On top whereof a ſacred chappell was,
And eke a little Hermitage thereby,
Wherein an aged holy man did lie,
That day and night ſaid his deuotion,
Ne other worldly buſines did apply;
His name was heuenly Contemplation;
Of God and goodnes was his meditation.

Great grace that old man to him giuen had;
For God he often ſaw from heauens highty,
All were his earthly eien both blunt and bad,
And through great age had loft their kindly fight,
Yet wondrous quick and perſaunt was his ſright,
As Eagles eie, that can behold the Sunne:
That hill they ſcale with all their powre and might,
That his fraile thighes nigh weary, and fordonne
Gan faile, but by her helpe the top at laſt he wonne.

There they doe finde that godly aged Sire,
With ſnowy lockes adowne his ſhoulders ſhed,
As hoary froſt with ſpangles doth attire
The moſty braunches of an Oke halſe ded.
Each bone might through his body well be red,
And euery ſinew ſeene through his long ſaſt:
For nought he car'd his carcas long vnſed;
His mind was full of ſpirituall repaſt,
And pyn'd his ſleſh, to keepe his body low and chaſt.

Who

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Cant. X. the Faery Queene:

Who when theſe two approaching he aspide,
At their firſt prefence grew agrieued fore,
That forſt him lay his heuenly thoughts aside;
And had he not that Dame reſpect ed more,
Whom highly he did reuerence and adore,
He would not once haue moued for the knight.
They him saluted ſtanding far afore;
Who well them greeting, humbly did requight,
And asked, to what end they clomb that tedious hight.

What end (qd. ſhe) ſhould cauſe vs take ſuch paine,
But that ſame end, which euery liuing wight
Should make his marke, high heauen to attaine?
Is not from hence the way, that leadeth right
To that moſt glorious houſe, that gliſtreth bright
With burning ſtarres, and euerliuing fire,
Whereof the keies are to thy hand behight
By wife Fidelia? ſhee doth thee require,
To ſhew it to this knight, according his deſire.

Thrifſe happy man, ſaid then the father graue,
Whof ſaggering ſteps thy ſteady hand doth lead,
And ſhewes the way, his ſinfull ſoule to ſaue.
Who better can the way to heauen aread,
Then thou thy ſelſe, that was both borne and bred
In heuenly throne, where thou ſand Angels ſhine?
Thou doſt the praiers of the righteouſe ſead
Preſent before the maietly diuine,
And his auenging wrath to clemency incline.

Yet ſince thou bidſt, thy pleafure ſhalbe donne.
Then come thou man of earth, and ſee the way,
That neuer yet was ſeene of Faries ſonne,
That neuer leads the traueiler aſtray,

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But after labors long, and sad delay,
Bring them to ioyous rest and endleſſe blis.
But firſt thou muſt a ſeafon ſaſt and pray,
Till from her bands the ſpightr aſſoiled is,
And haue her ſtrength recur'd from fraile infirmitis.

That done, he leads him to the highest Mount;
Such one, as that fame mighty man of God,
That blood-red billowes like a walled front
On either side disparted with his rod,
Till that his army dry-foot through them yod,
Dwelt forty daies vpon; where writt in ſtone
VWith bloody letters by the hand of God,
The bitter doome of death and balefull mone
He did receiue, whiles flatling fire about him ſhone.

Or like that ſacred hill, whose head full hie,
Adornd with fruitfull Œliues all arownd,
Is, as it were for endleſſe memory
Of that deare Lord, who oft thereon was ſownd,
For euer with a flowring girlond crowd:
Or like that pleasaunt Mount, that is for ay
Through famous Poets verſe each where renowned,
On which the thrife three learned Ladies play
Their heuenly notes, and make full many a louely lay.

From thence, far off he vnto him did ſhow
A little path, that was both ſteepe and long,
Which to a goodly Citty led his vew;
Whose wals and towres were builded high & ſtrong
Of perle and precious ſtone, that earthly tong
Cannot deſcribe, nor wit of man can tell;
Too high a ditty for my ſimple ſong:
The Citty of the greate king hight it well,
Wherein eternall peace and happineſſe doth dwell.

As

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the Faery Queene

As he thereon ſtood gazing, he might ſee
The bleſſed Angels to and fro descend.
From highest heuen, in gladſome compance,
And with great ioy into that Citty wend,
As commonly as ſrend does with his ſrend.
Whereat he wondred much, and gan enquere,
What ſtately building durſt so high extend
Her lofty towres vnto the ſtarry ſphere,
And what vnknowen nation there empeopled were.

Faire knight (qd. he) *Hierusalem* that is,
The new Hierusalem, that God has built
For thofe to dwell in, that are choſen his,
His choſen people purg'd from ſinful guilt,
With piteous blood, which cruelly was ſpilt
On curſed tree, of that vnſpotted lam,
That for the ſinnes of al the world was kilt:
Now are they Saints all in that Citty ſam,
More dear vnto their God, then youſlings to their dam.

Till now, ſaid then the knight, I weened well,
That great Cleopolis, where I haue beene,
In which that faireſt Fary Queene doth dwell
The faireſt Citty was, that might be ſeene;
And that bright towre all built of chriftall clene,
Panthea, ſeemd the brightest thing, that was:
But now by proofe all other wife I weene;
For this great Citty that does far ſurpas,
(glas.
And this bright Angels towre quite dims that towre of

Moſt trew, then ſaid the holy aged man;
Yet is Cleopolis for earthly fame,
The faireſt peece, that eie beholden can:
And well beſeemes all knights of noble name,

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That couett in th'immortall booke of fame
To be eternized, that fame to haunt,
And doen their seruice to that soueraigne Dame,
That glory does to them for guerdon graunt:
For she is heuенly borne, and heauen may iustly vaunt.

And thou faire ymp, sprong out from English race,
How euer now accempted Elfins sonne,
Well worthy doeſt thy seruice for her grace,
To aide a virgin desolate foredonne.
But when thou famous victory haſt wonne,
And high emongſt all knights haſt hong thy shield,
Thenceforth the ſuitt of earthly conquelt ſhonne,
And waſh thy hands from guilt of bloody field:
For blood can nought but ſin, & wars but ſorrows yield,

Then seek this path, that I to thee preſage,
Which after all to heauen ſhall thee tend;
Then peaceably thy paine full pilgrimage
To yonder fame Hierusalem doe bend,
Where is for thee ordain'd a bleſſed end:
For thou emongſt thoſe Saints, whom thou doeſt ſee,
Shalt be a Saint, and thine owne nations ſtend.
And Patrone: thou Saint George ſhalt called bee,
Saint George of mery England, the ſigne of victoree.

Vnworthy wretch (qd. he) of ſo great grace,
How dare I thinke ſuch glory to attaine:
Thoſe that haue it attaynd, were in like cace
As wretched men, and liued in like paine.
But deeds of armes muſt I at laſt be faine,
And Ladies loue to leaue ſo dearely bought?
What need of armes, where peace doth ay remaine,
(Said he) and bitter battailes all ate fought?
As for loose loues they are vaine, & vaniſh into nought.

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the Faëry Queene.

O let me not (quoth he) then turne againe
Backe to the world, whose ioyes ſo fruitleſſe are,
But let me heare for aie in peace remaine,
Or ſtreight way on that laſt long voiage fare,
That nothing may my prefent hope empare,
That may not be (laid he) ne maiſt thou yitt
Forgoe that royal maides bequeathed care,
Who did her cauſe into thy hand committ,
Till from her cursed foe thou haue her freely quitt.

Then ſhall I ſoone, (qd. he) ſo God me grace,
Abett that virgins cauſe diſconſolate,
And ſhortly back returne vnto this place,
To walke this way in Pilgrims poore eſtate.
But now aread, old father, why of late
Didſt thou behight me borne of English blood,
Whom all a Faeries ſonne doen nominate?
That word ſhall I (laid he) auouchen good,
Sith to thee is vnknowne the cradle of thy brood.

For well I wote, thou ſpringſt from ancient race
Of Saxon kinges, that haue with mightie hand
And many bloody battailes fought in face
High reard their royall throne in Britans land
And vanquifht them, vnable to withstand:
From thence a Faëry thee vnweeting reſt,
There as thou flepſt in tender ſwadling band,
And her bafe Elfing brood there for thee left. (theſt,
Such men do Chaungelings call, ſo chaungd by Faeries.

Thence ſhe thee brought into this Faëry lond,
And in an heaped ſurrow did thee hyde,
Where thee a Ploughman all vnweeting fond,
As he his toyleſome teme that way did guyde,

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And brought thee vp in ploughmans state to byde,
Whereof Georgos he thee gaue to name;
Till prickt with courage,and thy forces pryde,
To Fary court thou cam'st to seeke for fame, (came,
And proue thy puiffaunt armes,as feemes thee beſt be.

O holy Sire (quoth he) how ſhall I quight
The many fauours I with thee haue ſownd,
That haſt my name and nation redd aright,
And taught the way that does to heauen bount?
This ſaide, adowne he looked to the grownd,
To haue returnd, but dazed were his cyne,
Through paſſing brightnes, which did quite coſound
His feeble ſence, and too exceeding ſhyne.

So darke are earthly things compard to things diuine.

At laſt whenas himſelſe he gan to fynd,
To Vna back he caſt him to retyre;
Who him awaited ſtill with penſiue mynd.
Great thankes and goodly meed to that good ſyre,
He thens departing gaue for his paynes hyre.
So came to Vna, who him ioyd to ſee,
And after little reſt, gan him deſyre,
Of her aduenture mynd full for to bee.

So leaue they take of Cælia, and her daughters three.

Cant.

the Faery Queene.

Cant. XI.

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Cant XI.

The knight with that old Dragon fights
two dayes inſeſantly:

The third him ouerthrowes, and gayns
moſt glorious victory.

High time now gan it wex for Vna ſayre,
To thinke of those her captiue Parents deare,
And their forwaſted kingdom to repayre:
Whereto whenas they now approched neare,
With hartie wordes her knight the gan to cheare,
And in her modeſt maner thus beſpake;
Deare knight, as deare, as euer knight was deare,
That all theſe ſorrowes ſuffer for my ſake,
High heuen behold the tedious toyle, ye for me take.

Now are we come vnto my native ſoyle,
And to the place, where all our perilles dwell;
Here hauntes that ſeend, and does his dayly ſpoyle,
Therefore henceforth bee it your keeping well,
And euer ready for your ſoeman fell.
The ſparke of noble corage now awake,
And ſtrike your excellent ſelfe to excell;
That ſhall ye euermore renowned make,
Aboue all knights on earth, that batteill vndertake.

With that they heard a roaring hideous ſownd,
That all the ayre with terror filled wyde,
And ſeemd vneath to ſhake the ſtedſaſt ground.
Eſt ſoones that dreadfull Dragon they eſpyde,

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Where fretcht he lay vpon the funny fide,
Of a great hill, himselve like a great hill.
But all so soone, as he from far defcryde
Thofe gliftring armes, that heuen with light did fill,
He rouſd himselve full blyth, and haſtned them vnſill.

Then badd the knight this Lady yede aloof,
And to an hill her ſelfe withdraw aſyde,
From whence ſhe might behold that battailles proof
And eke be ſafe from daunger far defcryde:
She him obayd, and turnd a little wyde,
Now O thou ſacred Mufe, moſt learned Dame,
Fayre ympe of Phæbus, and his aged bryde,
The Nourſe of time, and euerlaſting fame,
That warlike hands ennobled with immortall name;

O gently come into my feeble breſt,
Come gently, but not with that mightie rage,
Wherewith the martiall troupes thou doeſt inſeſt,
And hartes of great Heroës doeſt enrage,
That nought their kindled corage may aſwage,
Soone as thy dreadfull trompe begins to ſownd;
The God of warre with his ſiers equipage
Thou doeſt awake, ſleepe neuer he so ſownd,
And feared nations doeſt with horror ſterne aftownd.

Fayre Goddeſſe lay that furious ſitt aſyde,
Till I of warres and bloody Mars doe ſing,
And Bryton fieldes with Sarazin blood bedyde,
Twixt that great faery Queene and Paynim king,
That with their horror heuen and earth did ring,
A worke of labour long, and endleſſe prayſe:
But now a while lett downe that haughtie string,
And to my tunes thy ſecond tenor rayſe,
That I this man of God his godly armes may blaze.

By

157

Cant. XI. the Faerie Queene.

By this the dreadfull Beaſt drew nigh to hand,
Halſe flying, and halſe footing in his haſte,
That with his largeneſſe meaſured much land,
And made wide ſhadow vnder his huge waſt;
As mountaine doth the valley ouercaſte.
Approching nigh, he reared high afore
His body monſtrous, horrible, and waſt;
W hich to increaſe his wondrous greatnes more,
Was ſwoln with wrath, & poyſon, & with bloody gore.

And ouer, all with braſen ſcales was armd,
Like plated cote of ſteele, so couched neare, (harmd
That nought mot e perce ne might his corſe bee
With dint of ſwerd, nor puſh of pointed ſpeare,
Which as an Eagle, feeing pray appeare,
His acry plumes doth rouze, ſuſull rudely dight,
So ſhaked he, that horror was to heare,
For as the clafching of an Armor bright,
Such noyſe his rouzed ſcales did ſend vn to the knight.

His flaggy winges when forth he did diſplay,
Were like two ſayles, in which the hollow wynd
Is gathered full, and worketh ſpeedy way:
And eke the pennes, that did his pineons bynd,
Were like mayne-yardes, with flying canuaſ kynd,
With which whenas him lift the ayre to beat,
And there by force vnwanted paſſage ſynd,
The lowdes before him fledd for terror great,
And all the heuens ſtood ſtill amazed with his threat.

His huge long tayle wownd vp in hundred foldes,
Does ouerſpred his long bras-ſcaly back,
Whofe wreathed boughtes when euer he vnfoldes,
And thick entangled knots adown does ſlack,

Bespotted.

158

The first Booke of Cant. XI.

Bespotted all with shieldes of red and blacke,
It sweepeth all the land behind him farre,
And of three furlongs does but little lacke;
And at the point two stinges in fixed arre,
Both deadly sharp, that sharpeſt steele exceeden farre.

But stinges and sharpeſt steele did far exceed
The sharpneſſe of his cruel rending clawes;
Dead was it sure, as sure as death in deed,
What euer thing does touch his rauenous pawes,
Or what within his reach he euer drawes.
But his moſt hideous head my tongue to tell,
Does tremble: for his deepe deuouring iawes
Wyde gaped, like the grieſly mouth of hell,
Through which into his darke abyſſe all rauin fell.

And that more wondrous was, in either iaw
Three ranckes of yron teeth enraunged were,
In which yett trickling blood and gobbets raw
Of late deuoured bodies did appeare,
That ſight thereof bredd cold congealed ſeare:
Which to increaſe, and all atonce to kill,
A cloud of smoothering ſmoke and sulphure ſeare
Out of his ſtinking gorge forth ſteemed ſtill,
That all the ayre about with ſmoke and ſtench did fill.

His blazing eyes, like two bright ſhining shieldes,
Did burne with wrath, and ſparkled liuing ſyre;
As two broad Beacons, ſett in open fieldes,
Send forth their flames far of to euery ſhyre,
And warning giue, that enimies conſpyre,
With fire and ſword the region to inuade;
So ſlam'd his eyne with rage and rancorous ſyre:
But far within, as in a hollow glade,
(Thade,
Thoſe glaring lampes were ſett, that made a dreadfull
So

159

Cant. XI. the Faëry Queene.

So dreadfully he towardes him did pas,
Forelifting vp a loft his ſpeckled breſt,
And often bounding on the bruſed gras,
As for great ioyaunce of his newcome gueſt,
Eſtſoones he gan aduaunce his haughty creſt,
As chaufped Bore his briftles doth vpreare,
And thoke his ſcales to battaile ready dreſt;
That made the Rederoffe knight nigh quake for ſeare,
As bidding bold defyaunce to his ſoeman neare.

The knight gan fayrely couch his ſteady ſpeare,
And fierſely ran at him with rigorous might:
The pointed steele arriuing rudely theatre,
His harder hyde would nether perce, nor bight,
But glauncing by foorth paſſed forward right,
Yet fore amoued with ſo puiffaunt puſh,
The wrathfull beaſt about him turned light,
And him ſo rudely paſſing by, did bruſh
(ruſh.
With his long tayle, that horse and man to ground did

Both horse and man vp lightly roſe againe,
And fresh encounter towardes him addreſt:
But th' ydle ſtroke yet backe recoyld in vaine,
And found no place his deadly point to reſt.
Exceeding rage enflam'd the furious beaſt,
To be auenged of ſo great deſpight;
For neuer felt his imperceable breſt
So wondrous force, from hand of liuing wight;
Yet had he prou'd the powre of many a puiffant knight.

Then with his wauing wings displayed wyde,
Himſelfe vp high he lifted from the ground,
And with ſtrong flight did forcibly diuide
The yielding ayre, which nigh too feeble found

L

Her

160 The first Booke of

Cant. XI.

Her flitting parts, and element vnfound,
To beare so great a weight: he cutting way
With his broad sayles, about him soared round:
At laft low stouping with vnweldy say,
Snatcht vp both horse & man, to beare the quite away.

Long he them bore aboue the subieст plaine,
So far as Ewghen bow a shaft may fend,
Till struggling ſtrong did him at laft conſtraine,
To let them downe before his flightes end:
As hagard hauke prefuming to contend
With hardy fowle, aboue his hable might,
His wearie pounces all in vaine doth ſpend,
To truffe the pray too heauy for his flight,
(fight,
Which comming down to ground, does free it ſelfe by

He so diſſeized of his gryping groſſe,
The knight his thrillant ſpere againe affayd
In his bras-plated body to emboſſe,
And three mens ſtrength vnto the ſtoake he layd;
Wherewith the ſtiffe beame quaked, as affrayd,
And glauncing from his ſcaly necke, did glyde
Cloſe vnder his left wing, then broad diſplayd,
The percing ſteele there wrought a wound full wyde,
That with the vncouth ſmart the Monster lowdly cryde.

He cryde, as raging ſeas are wont to rore,
When wintry ſtorme his wrathful wreck does threat,
The rolling billowes beat the ragged shore,
As they the earth would ſhoulder from her ſeat,
And greedy gulſe does gape, as he would eat
His neighbour element in his reuenge:
Then gin the bluſtring brethren boldly threat,
To moue the world from off his ſtedſaft henge,
And boyſtrous battaile make, each other to auenge.

The

161

Cant. XI. the Faerie Queene.

The ſteely head ſtuckt ſaft ſtill in his ſlesh,
Till with his cruell clawes he ſnatcht the wood,
And quite a ſunder broke. Forth ſlowed fresh
A gushing riuer of blacke gory blood,
That drowned all the land, whereon he ſtood;
The ſtreame thereof would driue a water-mill.
Trebly angmented was his ſurious mood
With bitter ſence of his deepe rooted ill,
That flames of fire he threw forth from his large noſethril,

His hideous tayle then hurled he about,
And therewith all enwrapt the nimble thyes
Of his froth-fomy ſeed, whoſe courage ſtout
Striuing to loose the knott, that ſaft him tyes,
Him ſelfe in ſtreighter bandes too rafh implyes,
That to the ground he is perſorce conſtraynd
To throw his ryder: who can quickly ryle
From of the earth, with durty blood diſtaynd,
For that reprochfull fall right fowly he diſdaynd.

And ferceſly tooke his trenchand blade in hand,
With which he ſtroke so ſurious and so fell,
That nothing ſeemd the puiffaunce could withstand:
Vpon his creſt the hardned yron fell,
But his more hardned creſt was armd so well,
That deeper dint therein it would not make;
Yet so extremely did the buffe him quell,
That from thenceforth he ſhund the like to take,
But when he saw them come, he did them ſtill forſake.

The knight was wroth to ſee his ſtroke beguyl,
And ſmot againe with more outrageous might;
But backe againe the ſparling ſteele recoyld,
And left not any marke, where it did light;

L 2

As

162

The first Booke of

Cant. XI.

As if in Adam rocke it had beene pight,
The beaſt impatient of his ſmarting wound,
And of ſo ſierce and ſorcible deſpight,
Thought with his winges to ſtye aboue the ground;
But his late wounded wing vnferuiceable found.

Then full of griefe and anguifh vehement,
He lowdly brayd, that like was neuer heard,
And from his wide deuouring ouen ſent
A flake of fire, that flashing in his beard,
Him all amazd, and almoſt made aſeard:
The ſcorching flame ſore ſwinged all his face,
And through his armour all his body ſeard,
That he could not endure ſo cruell cace,
But thought his armes to leaue, and helmet to vnlace.

Not that great Champion of the antique world,
Whom famous Poetes verſe ſo much doth vaunt,
And hath for twelue huge labours high extold,
So many furies and ſharpe ſits did haunt,
When him the poyſoned garment did enchaunt
With Centaures blood, and bloody verſes charmd,
As did this knight twelue thouand dolours daunt,
Whom ſyrie ſteele now burnt, that erſt him armd,
That erſt him goodly armd, now moſt of all him harmd,

Faynt, wearie, ſore, emboyled, grieued, brent
With heat, toyle, wounds, armes, ſmart, & inward ſire
That neuer man ſuch miſchiefes did torment;
Death better were, death did he oft deſire,
But death will neuer come, when needes require,
Whom ſo diſmayd when that his ſoe beheld,
He caſt to ſuffer him no more reſpire,
But gan his ſturdy ſterne about to weld,
And him ſo strongly ſtroke, that to the ground him ſeld.

163

Cant. XI.

the Faery Queene.

It fortuned (as fayre it then befell,)
Behynd his backe vnweeting, where he ſtood,
Of auncient time there was a ſpringing well,
From which faſt trickled forth a ſiluer flood,
Full of great vertues, and for med'cine good.
Whylome, before that curſed Dragon got
That happy land, and all with innocent blood
Defyld thoſe ſacred waues, it rightly hot
The well of life, ne yet his vertues had ſorgot.

For vnto life the dead it could reſtore,
And guilt of ſinfull crimes cleane waſh away,
Thoſe that with ſickneſſe were inſeſted ſore,
It could recure, and aged long decay
Renew, as it were borne that very day.
Both Silo this, and Jordan did excell,
And th'Englith Bath, and eke the german Spau,
Ne can Cephife, nor Hebrus match this well:
Into the fame the knight back ouerthrowen, ſell.

Now gan the golden Phæbus for to ſteepe
His fierie face in billowes of the weſt,
And his faint ſteedes watred in Ocean deepe,
Whiles from their iournall labours they did reſt,
When that infernall Monſter, hauing keſt
His wearie ſoe into that liuing well,
Can high aduaunce his broad diſcoloured breſt,
Abone his wonted pitch, with countenance ſell,
And clapt his yron wings, as viſtor he did dwell.

Which when his penſiue Lady ſaw from farre,
Great woe and ſorrow did her ſoule affay,
As weening that the ſad end of the warre,
And gan to higheſt God entirely pray,

L 3

That

164

*The first Booke of*
*Cant. XI.*

That feared chaunce from her to turne away;
With folded hands and knees full lowly bent
All night shee watcht, ne once adowne would lay
Her dainty limbs in her sad dreriment,
But praying still did wake, and waking did lament.

The morrow next gan earely to appeare,
That *Titan* roſe to runne his daily tace;
But earely ere the morrow next gan reare
Out of the sea faire *Titans* deawy face,
Vp roſe the gentle virgin from her place,
And looked all about, if ſhe might ſpy
Her loued knight to moue his manly paces
For ſhe had great doubt of his ſafety,
Since late ſhe saw him fall before his eniemy.

At last the saw, where he vpstarted braue
Out of the well, wherein he drenched lay;
As Eagle fresh out of the Ocean waue,
Where he hath lefte his plumes all hory gray,
And deckt himselte with fethers youtly gay,
Like Eyas hauke vp mounts vnto the skies,
His newly budded pineons to aftay,
And merueiles at him selfe, ſtil as he flies:
So vew this new-borne knight to battell new did life.

Whom when the damned feend so fresh did ſpy,
No wonder, if he wondred at the fight,
And doubted, whether his late eniuy
It were, or other new ſupplied knight.
He, now to proue his late renewed might,
High brandifhing his bright deaw-burning blade,
Vpon his crefted ſcalp so ſore did ſmite,
That to the ſcull a yawning wound it made:
The deadly dint his dulled ſences all diſinaid.

I wot

165

*the Faëry Queene:*  
* Cant. XI.*

I wot not, whether the reuenging ſteele
Were hardned with that holy water dew,
Wherein he fell, or ſharper edge did ſeele,
Or his baptized hands now greater grew;
Or other ſecret vertue did enſew;
Els neuer could the force of ſleshly arme,
Ne molten mettall in his blood embrae:
For till that ſtownd could neuer wight him harme,
By ſubtilty, nor flight, nor might, nor mighty charme.

The cruell wound enraged him so ſore,
That loud he yelded for exceeding paine;
As hundred ramping Lions ſeemd to rore,
Whom rauenous hunger did thereto conftraine:
Then gan he toſſe aloft his ſtretched traine,
And therewith ſcourge the buxome aire so ſore,
That to his force to yielden it was ſaine;
Ne ought his ſturdy ſtrokes might ſtand afore,
That high trees ouerthrew, and rocks in peces tore.

The fame aduauncing high aboue his head,
With ſharpe intended ſting so rude him ſmott,
That to the earth him droue, as ſtricken dead,
Ne liuing wight would haue him life behott:
The mortall ſting his angry needle ſhott
Quite through his ſhield, and in his ſhoulder ſeaſd,
VWhere ſaſt it ſtucke, ne would thereout be gott:
The griefe thereof him wondrous ſore diſeaſd,
Ne might his rancling paine with patience be appeaſd.

But yet more mindfull of his honour deare,
Then of the grievous ſmart, which him did wring,
From loathed ſoile he can him lightly reare,
And ſtroue to looke the far infixed ſting:

L 4

VWhich

166 The first Booke of Cant. XI.

Which when in vaine he tryde with struggling, Inflam'd with wrath, his raging blade he hefte, And strooke so strongly, that the knotty string Of his huge taile he quite a fonder clefte, Five joints thereof he hewd, & but the stump he left.

Hart cannot thinke, what outrage, and what cries, With fowle enfouldred smoake and flashing fire, The hell-bred beaft threw forth into the skies, That all was couered with darknesse dire: Then fraught with rancour, and engorged yre, He caft at once him to auenge for all, And gathering vp himselfe out of the mire, With his vneuen wings did fiercely fall, Upon his funne-bright shield, and grypt it faft with all,

Much was the man encombred with his hold, In feare to lose his weapon in his paw, Ne wist yett, how his talaunts to vnfold; For harder was from Cerberus greedy iaw To plucke a bone, then from his cruell claw To reaue by strength, the griped gage away: Thrive he affayd it from his foote to draw, And thrise in vaine to draw it did affay, It booted nought to thinke, to robbe him of his pray.

Tho when he saw no power might preuaile, His trusty sword he cald to his laft aid, Wherewith he fierfly did his foe affaile, And double blowes about him stoutly laid, That glauncing fire out of the yron plaid; As sparrkles from the Anduile vse to fly, When heavy hammers on the wedg are swaid; Therewith at laft he forst him to vnty One of his grasping feete, him to defend thereby.

The

Cant. XI. the Faery Queene

167

The other foote, faft fixed on his shield Whenas no strength, nor stroks mote him constraine To loose, ne yet the warlike pledg to yield, He smott thereat with all his might and maine, That nought so wondrous puiflaunce might suftaine, Upon the joint the lucky steele did light, And made such way, that hewd it quite in twaine; The paw yett miffed not his minifht might, But hong still on the shield, as it at first was pight.

For griefe thereof, and diuelifh despight, From his infernall fournace forth he threw Huge flames, that dimmed all the heuens light, Enrold in duskifh smoke and brimstone blew; As burning Aetna from his boyling stew Doth belch out flames, and rockes in peeces broke, And ragged ribs of mountaines molten new, Enwrapt in coleblacke clowds and filthy smoke, That al the land with ftéch, & heuen with horror choke.

The heate whereof, and harmefull pestilence So fore him noyd, that forst him to retire A little backeward for his best defence, To faue his body from the scorching fire, Which he from hellifh entrailes did expire. It chaunft (eternall God that chaunce did guide) As he recoiled backeward, in the mire His nigh foreweried feeble feet did slide, And downe he fell, with dread of shame fore terrifide.

There grew a goodly tree him faire beside, Loaden with fruit and apples rosy redd, As they in pure vermilion had beene dide, Whereof great vertues ouer all were redd:

For

168 The firſt Booke of Cant. XI.

For happy life to all, which thereon fedd,
And life eke euerlasing did befall:
Great God it planted in that bleſſed ſtedd
With his Almighty hand, and did it call
The tree of life, the crime of our firſt fathers fall.

In all the world like was not to be fownd,
Saue in that foile, where all good things did grow,
And freely ſprong out of the fruitfull grownd,
As incorrupted Nature did them ſow,
Till that dredd Dragon all did ouerthow.
Another like faire tree eke grew thereby,
Whereof who ſo did eat, eſtſoones did know
Both good and ill: O mournfull memory:
That tree through one mās fault hath doen vs all to dy.

From that firſt tree forth flowd, as from a well,
A trickling ſtreame of Balme, moſt ſoueraine
And dainty deare, which on the ground ſtill fell,
And ouerflowed all the fertile plaine,
As it had deawed bene with timely raine:
Life and long health that gracious ointment graue,
And deadly wounds could heale, and reare againe
The ſenceleſſe corſe appointed for the graue.
Inio that fame he fell: which did from death him ſaue.

For nigh thereto the euer damned Beaſt
Durſt not approch, for he was deadly made,
And al that life preferred, did deteſt:
Yet he it oft aduentur'd to inuade.
By this the drouping day-light gan to fade,
And yied his rowme to ſad ſucceeding night,
Who with her ſable mantle gan to ſhade
The face of earth, and wayes of liuing wight,
And high her burning torch ſet vp in heauen bright.

When

169

Cant. XI. the Faëry Queene.

When gentle Vna ſaw the ſecond fall
Of her deare knight, who weary of long fight, (might
And faint through loſſe of blood, moou'd not at all,
But lay as in a dreame of deepe delight,
Befmeard with pretious Balme, whose vertuous
Did heale his woundes, and ſcorching heat alay,
Againe ſtricken was with ſore affright,
And for his ſafetie gan deuoutly pray;
And watch the noyous night, and wait for ioyous day.

The ioyous day gan early to appeare,
And fayre Aurora from the deawy bed
Of aged Tithone gan her ſelfe to reare,
With roſy cheekes, for ſhame as blushing red;
Her golden locks for haſt were loosely ſhed
About her eares, when Vna her did marke
Clymbe to her charet, all with flowers ſpred;
From heuen high to chace the cheareleſſe darke,
With mery note her lowd ſalutes the mounting larke.

Then freshely vp aroſe the doughty knight,
All healed of his hurts and woundes wide,
And did himſelfe to battaille ready dight;
Whose early foe awaiting him befide
To haue deuourd, ſo ſoone as day he ſpyde,
When now he ſaw himſelfe ſo freshely reare,
As if late fight had nought him damnifyde,
He woxe diſmaid, and gan his fate to feare;
Nathleſſe with wonted rage he him aduaunced neare.

And in his firſt encounter, gaping wyde,
He thought attonce him to haue ſwallowed quight,
And rufht vpon him with outragious pryde;
Who him rencountring ſierce, as hauke in flight,

Perforce

170

The first Booke of Cant. XI.

Perforce rebutted backe. The weapon bright
Taking aduantage of his open iaw,
Ran through his mouth with so importune might,
That deepe emperſt his darkſom hollow maw,
And back retyrd, his life blood forth with all did draw.

So downe he fell, and forth his life did breath,
That vanifht into ſmoke and cloudes ſwift;
So downe he fell, that the'arth him vnderneath
Did grone, as feeble so great load to lift;
So downe he fell, as an huge rocky clift,
Whof ſale foundation waues haue waſt away,
With dreadfull poyſe is from the mayneland rift,
And rolling downe, great Neptune doth difmay;
So downe he fell, and like an heaped mountaine lay.

The knight him ſelſe euen trembled at his fall,
So huge and horrible a maffe it ſeem'd;
And his deare Lady, that beheld it all,
Durf't not approch for dread, which ſhe mifdeem'd,
But yet at laſt, whenas the direfull ſeend
She ſaw not ſtirre, of ſhaking vaine affright,
She nigher drew, and ſaw that ioyous end:
Then God ſhe prayſd, and thankt her faithfull knight,
That had atchicude so great a conqueſt by his might.
Cant.

171

the Faëry Queene. Cant. XII.

Cant. XII.

Fayre Una to the Redcroſe knight
betrouthed is with ioy:
Though false Dueſait to barre
Her false ſleightes doe imploy.

B Ehold I see the hauen nigh at hand,
To which I meane my wearie courſe to bend;
Vere the maine ſhete, and beare vp with the land,
The which afore is fayrly to be kend,
And ſeemeth ſafe from ſtorms, that may offend;
There this fayre virgin wearie of her way
Mufft landed bee, now at her iourneyes end:
There eke my feeble barke a while may ſtay,
Till mery wynd and weather call her thence away.

Scarsely had Phæbus in the glooming Eaſt
Yett harneffed his fyrie-footed teeme,
Ne reard aboue the earth his flaming creaſt,
When the laſt deadly ſmoke aloft did ſteeme,
That ſigne of laſt outbreathed life did ſeeme,
Vnto the watchman on the caſtle wall;
Who thereby dead that balefull Beaſt did deeme,
And to his Lord and Lady lowd gan call,
To tell, how he had ſeene the Dragons fatall fall,

Vproſe with haſty ioy, and feeble ſpeed
That aged Syre, the Lord of all that land,
And looked forth, to weet, if trew indeed
Thofe tydinges were, as he did vnderſtand,

Which

172

The first Booke of
Cant. XII.

Which whenas trew by tryall he out fond,
He badd to open wyde his brauen gate,
Which long time had beene shut,and out of hond
Proclaymed ioy and peace through all his state,
For dead now was their foe,which them forraynd late.

Then gan triumphant Trompets sownd on hye,
That sent to heuen the ecchoed report
Of their new ioy,and happie victory
Gainst him,that had them long oppreft with tort,
And fast imprisoned in sieged fort.
Then all the people,as in solemne feaft,
To him assembled with one full confort,
Reioycing at the fall of that great beaft,
From whose eternall bondage now they were releaſt.

Forth came that auncient Lord and aged Queene,
Arayd in antique robes downe to the grownd,
And sad habiliments right well beſene;
A noble crew about them waited rownd
Offage and sober Peres, all grauely grownd;
Whom far before did march a goodly band
Of tall young men,all hable armes to sownd,
But now they laurell braunches bore in hand;
Glad ſigne of victory and peace in all their land.

Vnto that doughtie Conquerour they came,
And him before them ſelues proftrating low,
Their Lord and Patrone loud did him proclame,
And at his feet their lawrell boughes did throw.
Soone after them all dauncing on a row
The comely virgins came, with girlands dight,
As fresh as flowres in medow greene doe grow,
When morning deaw vpon their leaues doth light
And in their handes ſweet Timbrels all vpheld on high.
And

Cant. XII.

the Faerie Queene.

173

And them before, the fry of children yong
Their wanton ſportes and childiſh mirth did play,
And to the Maydens sownding tymbrels ſong
In well attuned notes,a ioyous lay,
And made delightfull muſick all the way,
Vntill they came,where that faire virgin flood;
As fayre Diana in freeh ſommers day,
Beholdes her Nymphes, enraung'd in flady wood,
Some wrestle, ſome do run, ſome bathe in chriftall flood,

So the beheld thofe maydens meriment.
With chearefull vew, who when to her they came,
Themselves to ground with gracious humbleſſe bent
And her ador'd by honorable name,
Lifting to heuen her euerlaſting fame:
Then on her head they fett a giriſond greene,
And crowned her twixt earneſt and twixt game;
Who in her ſelf-refemblance well beſene,
Did ſeeme ſuch, as he was, a goodly maiden Queene.

And after all the raskall many ran,
Heaped together in rude rablement,
To ſee the face of that viſtorious man:
Whom all admired, as from heauen ſent,
And gazd vpon with gaping wonderment,
But when they came, where that dead Dragon lay,
Stretcht on the ground in monſtrous large extent,
The fight with ydle ſeare did them diſmay,
Ne durſt approch him nigh, to touch, or once affay.

Some ſeard, and fledd; ſome ſeard and well it ſaynd;
One that would wiser ſeeme, then all the reſt,
Wand him not touch, for yet perhaps remaynd
Some lingring life within his hollow breſt,

Or

174

*The first Booke of*
*Cant. XII.*

Or in his wombe might lurke some hidden neft
Of many Dragonettes, his fruitfull feede;
Another faide, that in his eyes did reft
Yet sparckling fyre, and badd thereof take heed;
Another faid, he saw him moue his eyes indeed.

One mother, whenas her foolehardy chyld
Did come to neare, and with his talants play
Halfe dead through feare, her litle babe reuyld,
And to her goffibs gan in counfell say;
How can I tell, but that his talents may
Yet scratch my fonne, or rend his tender hand,
So diuerfly them selues in vaine they fray;
Whiles some more bold, to meaſure him nigh ſtand,
To proue how many acres he did ſpred of land.

Thus flocked all the folke him rownd about,
The whiles that hoarie king, with all his traine,
Being arriued, where that champion ſtout
After his foes defeafaunce did remaine,
Him goodly greetes, and fayre does entertayne,
With princely gifts of yuory and gold,
And thousand thankes him yeeldes for all his paine.
Then when his daughter deare he does behold,
Her dearely doth imbrace, and kiffeth manifold.

And after to his Pallace he them bringes,
With ſtraumes, & trompets, & with Clarions ſwee;
And all the way the ioyous people ſinges,
And with their garments ſtrowes the paued ſtreet
Whence mounting vp, they fynd purueyaunce meet
Of all, that royall Princes court became,
And all the floore was vnderneath their feet
Be ſpredd with costly ſcarlott of great name,
On which they lowly ſitt, and fitting purpofe frame.

What

175

*the Faery Queene.*

* Cant. XII.*

What needes me tell their feast and goodly guize,
In which was nothing riotous nor vaine?
What needes of dainty diſhes to deuize,
Of comely ſeruices, or courtly trayne?
My narrow leaues cannot in them vntayne
The large diſcourſe of roiall Princes ſtate.
Yet was their manner then but bare and playne:
For th'antique world exceſſe and pryde did hate;
Such proud luxurious pompe is ſwollen vp but late.

Then when with meates and drinkes of euery kinde
Their feruent appetites they quenched had,
That auncient Lord gan fit occafion finde,
Of ſtraunge aduentures, and of perils ſad,
Which in his trauell him befallen had,
For to demaund of his renownede gueſt:
Who then with vtt'rance graue, and count'nance ſad,
From poynt to poynt, as is before expreſſ,
Diſcourſt his voyage long, according his requeſt.

Great pleasure mixt with pittifull regard,
That godly King and Queene did paſſionate,
Whyles they his pittifull aduentures heard,
That oft they did lament his luckleſſe ſtate,
And often blame the too important fate,
That heapd on him so many wrathfull wreakes:
For neuer gentle knight, as he of late,
So toffed was in fortunes cruell freakes;
And all the while salt teares bedeawd the hearers cheaks.

Then fayd that royall Pere in sober wife;
Deare Sonne, great beene the euils, which ye bore
From firſt to laſt in your late enterprife,
That I note, whether praeſe, or pitty more :

M

For

176 The first Booke of Cant. XII.

For neuer liuing man, I weene, so fore
In fea of deadly daungers was diftrest;
But since now fafe ye feisef haue the shore,
And well arriued are, (high God be bleft)
Let vs deuize of eafe and euerlafting reft.

Ah deareft Lord, faid then that doughty knight,
Of eafe or reft I may not yet deuize;
For by the faith, which I to armes haue plight,
I bownden am streight after this emprize,
As that your daughter can ye well aduize,
Backe to retourne to that great Faery Queene,
And her to ferue fixe ycares in warlike wize,
Gainst that proud Paynim king, that works her teene
Therefore I ought craue pardon, till I there haue beene.

Vnhappy falls that hard necessity,
(Quoth he) the troubler of my happy peace,
And vowed foe of my felicity;
Ne I againft the fame can iustly preace:
But since that band ye cannot now releafe,
Nor doen vndoe; (for vowes may not be vayne)
Soone as the terme of those fixe yeares shall ceafe,
Ye then shall hether backe retourne agayne,
The marriage to accomplifh vowd betwixt you twayn,

Which for my part I couet to performe,
In fort as through the world I did proclame,
That who so kild that monster moft deforme,
And him in hardy battayle ouercame,
Should haue mine onely daughter to his Dame,
And of my kingdome heyre apparaunt bee:
Therefore fince now to thee perteynes the fame,
By dew desert of noble cheualree,
Both daughter and eke kingdome, lo I yield to thee.

Then

177

Cant. XII. the Faerie Queene.

Then forth he called that his daughter fayre,
The faireft vn' his onely daughter deare,
His onely daughter, and his only hayre;
Who forth proceeding with sad sober cheare,
As bright as doth the morning starre appeare
Out of the Eaft, with flaming lockes bedight,
To tell that dawning day is drawing neare,
And to the world does bring long wifhed light;
So faire and fresh that Lady fhewd her selfe in fight.

So faire and fresh, as freshheft flowre in May;
For she had layd her mournefull ftole afide,
And widow-like fad wimple throwne away,
Wherewith her heauenly beautie ſhe did hide,
Whiles on her wearie iourney ſhe did ride;
And on her now a garment ſhe did weare,
All lilly white, withoutten ſpot, or pride,
That ſeemd like filke and filuer wouen neare,
But neither filke nor filuer therein did appeare.

The blazing brightneſſe of her beauties beame,
And glorious light of her ſunſhyny face
To tell, were as to ſtrie againſt the ſtreame,
My ragged rimes are all too rude and bace,
Her heauenly lineaments for to enchace.
Ne wonder, for her own deare loued knight,
All were ſhe daily with himſelfe in place,
Did wonder much at her celeſtiall fight:
Oft had he ſeene her faire, but neuer so faire dight.

So fairely dight, when ſhe in prefence came,
She to her Syre made humble reuerence,
And bowed low, that her right well became,
And added grace vnto her excellence:

M 2

Who

178 The first Booke of Cant. XII.

Who with great wisedome, and graue eloquence
Thus gan to say. But eare he thus had sayd,
With flying speede, and seeming great pretence,
Came running in, much like a man difmayd,
A Meffenger with letters, which his message sayd.

All in the open hall amazed ftood,
At fuddeinnefle of that vnwary fight;
And wondred at his breathleſſe 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,
And kift the ground, whereon his foot was pight;
Then to his hands that writt he did betake,
Which he diſcloſing, read thus, as the paper ſpake.

To thee, moſt mighty king of Eden fayre,
Her greeing ſends in theſe ſad lines addreſt,
The wofull daughter, and forſaken heyre
Of that great Emperour of all the Weſt;
And bids thee be aduized for the beſt,
Ere thou thy daughte r linck in holy band
Of wedlocke to that new vnknowen gueſt:
For he already plighted his right hand
Vnto another loue, and to another land.

Tome ſad mayd, or rather widow ſad,
He was affyaunced long time before,
And ſacred pledges he both gaue, and had,
Fafle erraunt knight, infamous, and forſwore:
Witneſſe the burning Altars, which he ſwore,
And guilty heauens of his bold periury,
Which though he hath polluted oft of yore,
Yet I to them for iudgement iuſt doe fly,
And them coniure t'auenge this ſhamefull iniury.

Therefore

Cant. XII. the Faëry Queene.

179

Therefore ſince mine he is, or free or bond,
Or falſe or trew, or liuing or elfe dead,
Withhold, O ſouerayne Prince, your haſty hond
From knitting league with him, I you aread,
Ne weene my right with ſtrength adowne to tread,
Through weakenefſe of my widowed, or woe:
For truth is ſtrong, her rightfull cauſe to plead,
And ſhall finde friends, if need requireth ſoe.

So bids thee well to fare, Thy neither friend, nor ſoe,
Fideſſa.

When he theſe bitter byting wordes had red,
The tydings ſtraunge did him abafhed make,
That till he ſare long time aftonifhed
As in great muſe, ne word to creature ſpake.
At laſt his ſolemne ſilence thus he brake,
With doubtfull eyes ſaſt fixed on his gueſt;
Redoubted knight, that for myne only ſake
Thy life and honor late aduentureſt,

Let nought be hid from me, that ought to be expreſſ.

What meane theſe bloody vowes, and idle threats,
Throwne out from womaniſh impatient mynd?
What heuens? what altars? what enraged heates
Here heaped vp with termes of loue vnkynd,
My confi Science cleare with guilty bands would bynd?
High God be witneſſe, that I guiltleſſe ame.
But if your ſelſe, Sir knight, ye faulty ſynd,
Or wrapped be in loues of former Dame,
With cryme doe not it couer, but diſcloſe the ſame.

To whom the Rederoſſe knight this anſwere ſent,
My Lord, my king, be nought hereat diſmayd,
Till well ye wote by graue intendment,
What woman, and wherefore doth me vpbrayd

M 3

With

180

The first Booke of Cant. XII.

With breach of loue, and loialty betrayd.
It was in my mishaps, as hitherward
I lately traueld, that vnwares I stayd
Out of my way, through perils straunge and hard;
That day should faile me, ere I had them all declard.

There did I find, or rather I was fownd
Of this falſe woman, that Fideſſa hight,
Fideſſa hight the falſeſt Dame on grownd,
Moſt falſe Dueſſa, royall richly dight,
That eafy was to inueigle weaker fight:
Who by her wicked arts, and wiely skill,
Too falſe and ſtrong for earthly skill or might,
Vnwares me wrought vnto her wicked will,
And to my foe be trayd, when leaſt I feared ill.

Then ſtepped forth the goodly royall Mayd,
And on the ground her ſelfeufenrating low,
With ſober countenaunce thus to him ſayd;
O pardon me, my soueraigne Lord, to ſheow
The ſecret treaſons, which of late I know
To haue bene wrought by that falſe ſorercerſe.
Shee onely ſhe it is, that earſt did throw
This gentle knight into ſo great diſtreſſe,
That death him did awaite in daily wtetchedneſſe.

And now it ſeemes, that ſhe ſuborned hath
This crafty meſſenger with letters ſaine,
To worke new woe and improuided ſcath,
By breaking of the band betwixt vs twaine;
Wherein ſhe vſed hath the practicke paine
Of this falſe footman, clokt with ſimplenelle,
Whome if ye pleafe for to diſcouer plaine,
Ye ſhall him Archimage find, I gheſſe,
The falſeſt man aliue; wo tries ſhall find no leſſe.

The

181

Cant. XII. the Faery Queene:

The king was greatly moued at her ſpeach,
And all with ſuddein indignation fraight,
Bad on that Meſſenger rude hands to reach.
Eſtſoones the Gard, which on his ſtate did wait,
Attacht that faytor falſe, and bound him ſtrait:
Who ſeeming forely chaufſed at his band,
As chained beare, whom cruell dogs doe bait,
With ydle force did faine them to withſtand,
And often ſemblaunce made to ſcape out of their hand.

But they him layd full low in dungeon deepe,
And bound him hand and foote with yron chains.
And with continual watch did warely keepe;
Who then would thinke, that by his ſubtle trains
He could eſcape fowle death or deadly pains?
Thus when that Princes wrath was paciſe,
He gan renew the late forbidden bains,
And to the knight his daughter deare he tyde,
With ſacred rites and vowes for euer to abyde.

His owne two hands the holy knotts did knitt,
That none but death for euer can diuide;
His owne two hands, for ſuch a turne moſt ſitt,
The houſling fire did kindle and prouide,
And holy water thereon ſprinckled wide;
At which the buſhy Teade a groome did light,
And ſacred lamp in ſecret chamber hide,
Where it ſhould not be quenched day nor night,
For ſeare of euill fates, but burnen euer bright.

Then gan they ſprinckle all the poſts with wine,
And made great ſeaſt to ſolemnize that day;
They all perfumde with frankincenſe diuine,
And precious odours fetcht from far away,

M 4

That

182

The first Booke of Cant. XII.

That all the house did sweat with great aray:
And all the while sweete Musicke did apply:
Her curious skill, the warbling notes to play,
To driue away the dull Melancholy,
The whiles one sung a song of loue and iollity.

During the which there was an heauenly noife
Heard sownd through all the Pallace pleafantly,
Like as it had bene many an Angels voice,
Singing before th'eternall maiefity,
In their trinall triplicities on hye;
Yett wift no creature, whence that heuenly sweet
Proceeded, yet each one felt secretly
Himfelfe thereby reſte of his ſences meet,
And rauifhed with rare impreſſion in his ſprite.

Great ioy was made that day of young and old,
And ſolemne feaſt proclaymd throughout the land,
That their exceeding morth may not be told:
Snſſice it heare by ſignes to vnderſtand
The vſuall ioyes at knitting of loues band.
Thrife happy man the knight himſelfe did hold,
Poffeſſed of his Ladies hart and hand,
And euer, when his eie did her behold,
His heart did ſeeme to melt in pleafures maniſold.

Her ioyous prefence and ſweet company
In full content he there did long enioy,
Ne wicked enuy, ne vile gealoly
His deare delights were hable to annoy:
Yet ſwimming in that ſea of blifſull ioy,
He nought forgott, how he whilome had ſworne,
Incaſe he could that monſtrous beaſt deſtroy,
Vnto his Faery Queene backe to retourne:
The which he ſhortly did, and Vna left to mourne.

Now

183

Cant. XII. the Faery Queene

Now ſtrike your failes yee iolly Mariners,
For we be come vnto a quiet rode,
Where we muſt land ſome of our paſſengers,
And light this weary veſſell of her lode.
Here ſhe a while may make her ſafe abode,
Till ſhe repaired haue her tackles ſpent,
And wants ſupplide. And then againe abroad
On the long voiage whereto ſhe is bent:
Well may ſhe ſpeede and fairely finiſh her intent.

Finis Lib. I.

# The second Booke
of the Faerie Queene.

## Contayning

The Legend of Sir Guyon.

OR

*Of Tempraunce*.

Right well I wote moft mighty Soucraine,
That all this famous antique hiftory,
Of some th'aboundance of an ydle braine
Will iudged be, and painted forgery,
Rather then matter of iuft memory,
Sith none, that breatheth liuing aire, does know,
Where is that happy land of Faery,
Which I so much doe vaunt, yet no where fhow,
But vouch antiquities, which no body can know.

But let that man with better ſence aduize,
That of the world leaſt part to vs is red:
And daily how through hardy enterprize,
Many great Regions are diſcouered,

Which

186

The second Booke of

Cant. I.

Which to late age were neuer mentioned,
Who euer heard of th'Indian Peru
Or who in venturous vessel meafured
The *Amarons* huge riuer now found trew
Or fruitfulleft Virginia who did euer vew.

Yet all theſe were when no man did them know,
Yet haue from wifelſt ages hidden beene
And later times things more vnknowne ſhall ſhow
Why then ſhould witleſſe man ſo much miſwene
That nothing is but that which he hath ſeene?
What if within the Moones ſayre ſhining ſpheare
What if in euery other ſtarrè vnſeene
Of other worldes he happily ſhould heare
He wöder would much more,yet ſuch to ſome appeare

Of faery lond yet if he more inquyre
By certain ſignes here ſett in ſondrie place
He may it ſynd, ne let him then admyre
But yield his ſence to bee too blunt and bace
That n'ote without an hound fine footing trace
And then O ſayreſt Princesſe vnder sky
In this ſayre mirrhour maift behold thy face
And thine owne realmes in lond of Faery
And in this antique ymage thy great aunceſtry.

The which O pardon methus to enfold
In couert vele and wrap in ſhadowes light
That feeble eyes your glory may behold
Which elles could not endure thoſe beames bright
But would bee dazled with exceeding light
O pardon and vouchſafe with patient eare
The braue aduentures of this faery knight
The good Sir *Guyon* gratiouſly to heate
(pearre)
In whom great rule of Temp'raunce goodly doth ap-

Cant.

Cant. I.

the Faëry Queene.

Cant I.

187

Guyon by Archimage abusd,
the Redcrosſe kniggt awaytes,
Fyndes Mordant and Amauia flaine
With pleafures poſioned baytes.

T
Hat conning Architect of canered guyle,
Whom Princes late displeasure left in bands,
For falſed letters and ſuborned wyle,
Soone as the Redcrosſe knight he vnderstands,
To beene departed out of Eden landes;
To ſerue againe his ſoueraine Elſin Queene,
His artes he moues, and out of caytives handes
Himſelſe he frees by ſecret meanes vnſeene;
His ſhackles emptye leſte, him ſelſe eſcaped cleene.

And forth he fares full of malicious mynd,
To worken miſchieſe and auenging woe,
Where euer he that godly knight may ſynd,
His onely hart ſore, and his onely foe,
Sith Vna now he algates muſt forgoe,
Whom his viſtorious handes did earſt reſtore
To native crowne and kingdom late ygoe:
Where ſhe enioyes ſure peace for euermore,
As wetherbeaten ſhip arryu'd on happie ſhore.

Him therefore now the obieſt of his ſpight
And deadly food he makes: him to offend
By forged treaſon, or by open ſight
He ſeekeſ, of all his drifte the aymed end:

Thereto

The second Booke of

Cant. I.

Thereto his subtile engins he does bend
His practick witt, and his fayre fyled tonge,
With thousand other fleightes: for well he kend,
His credit now in doubt full ballaunce hong;
For hardly could bee hurt, who was already stong.

Still as he went, he craftie stales did lay.
With cunning traynes him to entrap vnwares,
And priuie spyls plaft in all his way,
To weete what course he takes, and how he fares;
To ketch him at a vauntage in his stares.
But now so wife and wary was the knight
By tryall of his former harmes and cares,
That he defcryde, and shonned still his flight:
The fifth that once was caught, new bait wil hardly byte.

Nath'leffe th'Enchaunter would not spare his payne,
In hope to win occasion to his will;
Which when he long awaited had in vayne,
He chaungd his mynd from one to other ill:
For to all good he enimy was still.
Vpon the way him fortuned to meet,
Fayre matching vnderneath a shady hill,
A goodly knight, all armd in harneſſe meete,
That from his head no place appeared to his feete.

His carriage was full comely and vpright,
His countenance demure and temperate,
But yett so ſterne and terrible in fight,
That cheard his friendes, and did his foes amate:
He was an Elſin borne of noble ſtate,
And mickle worſhip in his native land,
Well could he tourney and in lifts debate,
And knighthood tooke of good Sir Huon's hand,
When with king Oberon he came to Fary land.

Him

the Faerie Queene.

Him als accompanyd vpon the way
A comely Palmer, clad in black attyre,
Of rypeſt yeares, and heares all hoarie gray,
That with a ſtaffe his feeble ſteps did ſtire,
Leaſt his long way his aged limbes ſhould tire:
And if by lookes one may the mind aread,
He ſeemd to be a ſage and ſober ſyre,
And euer with flow pace the knight did lead, (tread.)
Who taught his trampling ſteed with equall ſteps to

Such whenas *Archimago* them did view,
He weened well to worke ſome vncouth wyle,
Eſtoones vntwifting his deceiſt ſull clew,
He gan to weaue a web of wicked guyle,
And with faire countenance and flattring ſtyle,
To them approching, thus the knight beſpake:
Fayre ſonne of *Mars*, that ſeeke with warlike ſpoyle.
And great atchieu'ments great your ſelfe to make,
Vouchſafe to ſtay your ſteed for humble miſers ſake.

He ſtayd his ſteed for humble miſers ſake,
And badd tell on the tenor of his playnt;
Who feigning then in euery limb to quake,
Through inward ſeare, and ſeeming pale and ſaynt
With piteous mone his percing ſpeach gan paynt;
Deare Lady how ſhall I declare thy cace,
Whom late I left in languorous conſtraynt?
Would God thy ſelfe now preſent were in place,
To tell this rueſull tale; thy fight could win thee grace.

Or rather would, O would it so had chaunſt,
That you, moſt noble Sir, had preſent beene,
When that lewd rybauld with vyle luſt aduaunſt
Laid firſt his filthie hands on virgin cleene,

To

190

The second Booke of Cant. I.

To spoyle her dainty corps so faire and fhene,
As on the earth, great mother of vs all,
With liuing eye more fayre was neuer ſene,
Of chaſtity and honour virginall:

Witnes ye heauens, whom ſhe in vaine to help did call,

How may it be, ſdyd then the knight halſe wroth,
That knight ſhould knighthood euer so haue ſhente
None but that ſaw(qd. he) would weene for troth,
How ſhamefully that Mayd he did torment.
Her looſer golden lockeſe he rudely rent,
And drew her on the ground, and his ſharpe ſword,
Againſt her ſnowy breſt he fiercely bent,
And threatned death with many a bloodie word;
Tongue hates to tell the reſt, that eye to ſee abhord.

Therewith amoued from his ſober mood,
And liues he yet (ſaid he) that wrought this act,
And doen the heauens afford him vitall food?
He liues, (quoth he) and boaſeth of the fact,
Ne yet hath any knight his courage crackt.
Where may that treachour then (fayd he) be found,
Or by what meanes may I his footing traſt?
That ſhall I ſhew (fayd he) as ſure, as hound
The ſtrickſe Deare doth chaleng by the bleeding wound.

He ſtayd not lenger talke, but with ſierce yre
And zealous haſte away is quickly gone,
To ſeeke that knight, where him that crafty Squyre
Suppofd to be. They do arriue anone,
Where ſate a gentle Lady all alone,
With garments rent, and heare diſcheueled,
Wringing her handes, and making piteous mone;
Her ſwollen eyes were much diſfigured,
And her faire face with teares was fowly blubbered.

The

191

Cant. I. the Faery Queene.

The knight approching nigh, thus to her ſaid,
Fayre Lady, through fowle forrow ill bedight,
Great pitty is to ſee you thus diſmayd,
And marre the bloſſom of your beauty bright:
For thy appeaſe your grieke and heauy plight,
And tell the cauſe of your conceiued payne:
For if he liue, that hath you doen deſpight,
He ſhall you doe dew recompence agayne,
Or els his wrong with greater puſſance maintaine.

Which when ſhe heard, as in deſpightfull wife,
She wilfully her forrow did augment,
And offred hope of comfort did deſpife:
Her golden lockes moſt cruelly ſhe rent,
And scratcht her face with ghaſtly dreriment,
Ne would ſhe ſpeake, ne ſee, ne yet be ſene,
But hid her viſage, and her head downe bent,
Either for grieuous ſhame, or for great teene,
As if her hart with forrow had tranſſixed beene.

Till her that Squyre beſpake, Madame my life,
For Gods deare loue be not so wilſull bent,
But doe vouchſaſe now to receiue relieſe,
The which good fortune doth to you preſent.
For what bootes it to weepe and to wayment,
When ill is chaunſt, but doth the ill increaſe,
And the weake minde with double woe torment?
When ſhe her Squyre heard ſpeake, ſhe gan appeaſe
Her voluntarie paine, and ſele ſome ſecret eafe.

Eſtſoone ſhe ſaid, Ah gentle truſtie Squyre,
What comfort can I wofull wretch conceaue,
Or why ſhould euer I hencethorſe deſyre,
To ſee faire heauens ſace, and life not leaues,

N

Sith

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The second Booke of

Cant. I.

Sith that falſe Traytour did my honour reaue?
Falſe traytour certes (ſaide the Faerie knight)
I read the man, that euer would deceaue
A gentle Lady, or her wrong through might:
Death were too little paine for ſuch a fowle deſpight.

But now, ſayre Lady, comfort to you make,
And read, who hath ye wrought this ſhamfull plight,
That ſhort reuenge the man may ouertake,
Where ſo he be, and ſoone vpon him light.
Certes (ſaide ſhe) I wote not, how he hight,
But vnder him a gray ſteede he did wield,
Whoſe ſides with dapled circles weren dight;
Vpright he rode, and in his filuer ſhield
He bore a bloodie Croſſe, that quartred all the field.

Now by my head (ſaide Guyon) much I muſe,
How that fame knight ſhould do ſo fowle amis,
Or euer gentle Damzell ſo abuſe:
For may I boldly ſay, he ſurely is
A right good knight, and trew of word ywis:
I preſent was, and can it witneſſe well,
When armes he ſwore, and ſtreight did enterpris
Th'aduenture of the Errant damozell,
In which he hath great glory wonne, as I heare tell.

Nathleſſe he ſhortly ſhall againe be tryde,
And fairely quit him of th'imputed blame,
Els be ye ſure he dearely ſhall abyde,
Or make you good amendment for the fame:
All wrongs haue mendes, but no amendes of ſhame.
Now therefore Lady, rife out of your paine,
And ſee the faluing of your blotting name.
Full loth the ſeemd thereto, but yet did fairen,
For ſhe was inly glad her purpofe ſo to gaine.

Her

193

the Faerie Queene.

Cant. I.

Her purpofe was not ſuch, as ſhe did fairen,
Ne yet her perſon ſuch, as it was ſeene,
But vnder ſimple ſhew and ſemblant plaine
Lurkt falſe Dueſa ſecretly vnſeene,
As a chaſte Virgin, that had wronged beene :
So had falſe Archіmago her diſguyſd,
To cloke her guile with ſorrow and ſad teene;
And eke himſelfe had craftily deuifd
To be her Squire, and do her ſeruice well aguifd.

Her late forlorne and naked he had found,
Where ſhe did wander in waſte wilderneſſe,
Lurking in rockes and caues far vnder ground,
And with greene moſſe cou'ring her nakedneſſe,
To hide her ſhame and loathly filthineſſe,
Sith her Prince Arthur of proud ornaments
And borrowd beauty ſpoyld. Her natheleſſe
Th'enchaunter finding fit for his intents,
Did thus reueſt, and deckt with dew habiliments.

For all he did, was to deceive good knights,
And draw them from purſuit of praisſe and fame,
To flug in flouth and ſenſuall delights,
And end their daies with irrenowmed ſhame.
And now exceeding griekſe him ouercame,
To ſee the Redcroſſe thus aduaunced hye;
Therefore this craftie engine he did frame,
Against his praiſe to ſtirre vp enmitye
Of ſuch, as vertues like mote vnto him allye.

So now he Guyon guydes an vncouth way
Through woods & mountains, till they came at laſt
Into a pleafant dale, that lowly lay
Betwixt two hils, whose high heads ouerplaſt,

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The second Booke of

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194

The valley did with coole fhade ouercaft;
Through midft thereof a little riuer rold,
By which there fate a knight with helme vnlaſte,
Himſelfe refreshing with the liquid cold,
After his trauell long, and labours manifold.

Lo yonder he, cryde Archimage alowd,
That wrought the ſhamefull fact, which I did ſhow,
And now he doth himſelfe in ſecret ſhrowd,
To fly the vengeaunce for his outrage dew;
But vaine: for ye ſhall dearely do him rew,
So God ye ſpeed, and ſend you good ſucceſſe;
Which we far off will here abide to vew.
So they him left, inflam'd with wrathſulneſſe,
That ſtreight againſt that knight his ſpeare he did ad-

(drefle.

Who ſeeing him from far ſo fierce to pricke,
His warlike armes about him gan embrace,
And in the reſt his ready ſpeare did ſticke;
Tho when as ſtill he ſaw him towards pace,
He gan rencounter him in equall race:
They bene ymett, both ready to affrap,
When ſuddeinly that warriour gan abace
His threatned ſpeare, as if ſome new miſhap
Had him betide, or hidden danger did entrap.

And cryde, Mercie Sir knight, and mercie Lord,
For mine offence and heedeleſſe hardiment,
That had almoſt committed crime abhord,
And with reprochfull ſhame mine honour ſhent,
Whiles curſed ſteele againſt that badge I bent,
The ſacred badge of my Redeemers death,
Which on your ſhield is ſet for ornament:
But his fierce foe his ſeed could ſtay vneath,
Who prickt with courage kene, did cruell battell breath

But

Cant. I.
the Faëry Queene.

195

But when he heard him ſpeake, ſtreight way he knew
His errour, and himſelfe inclyning ſayd,
Ah deare Sir *Guyon*, well becommeth you,
But me behoueth rather to vybrayd,
Whofe haſtie hand ſo far from reaſon ſtrayd,
That almoſt it did haynous violence
On that ſayre ymage of that heauenly Mayd,
That decks and armes your ſhield with faire defence:
Your court ſie takes on you anothers dew offence,

So beene they both at one, and doen vpreare
Their beuers bright, each other for to greet;
Goodly comportaunce each to other beare,
And entertaine themſelues with courtſies meet;
Then ſaide the *Redcroſſe* knight, Now mote I weet,
Sir *Guyon*, why with ſo fierce ſaliaunce,
And fell intent ye did at earſt me meet;
For ſith I know your goodly gouernaunce,
Great caufe, I weene, you guided, or ſome vncouth

(chaunce.

Certes (laid he) well mote I ſhame to tell
The fond encheaſon, that me hether led.
A falſe infamous ſaitour late befell
Me for to meet, that ſeemed ill beſted,
And playnd of grieuous outrage, which he red
A knight had wrought againſt a Ladie gent;
Which to auenge, he to this place me led,
Where you he made the marke of his intent,
And now is ſled, ſoule ſhame him follow, wher he went.

So can he turne his earneſt vnto game,
Through goodly handling and wifetemperaunce.
By this his aged Guide in prefence came,
Who ſoone as one that knight his eye did glaunce,

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196 The second Booke of Cant. I.

Eft soones of him had perfect cognizaunce,
Sith him in Faery court he late auizd;
And fayd, fayre Sonne, God giue you happy chaunce;
And that deare Croſſe vppon your ſhield deuizd,
Wherewith aboue all knights ye goodly ſeeme aguizd,

Ioy may you haue, and euerlaſting fame,
Of late moſt hard atchieu'ment by you donne,
For which enrolled is your glorious name
In heauenly Regeſters aboue the Sunne,
Where you a Saint with Saints your ſeat haue wöne;
But wretched we, where ye haue left your marke,
Moſt now anew begin, like race to ronne;
God guide thee, *Guyon*, well to end thy warke,
And to the wifhed hauen bring thy weary barke.

Palmer, him anſwered the *Rederoffe* knight,
His be the praife, that this atchieu'ment wrought,
Who made my hand the organ of his might;
More then goodwill to me attribute nought:
For all I did, I did but as I ought.
But you, faire Sir, whoſe pageant next enſewes,
Well mote yee thee, as well can wifh your thought,
That home ye may report theſe happy newes;
For well ye worthy bene for worth and gentle thewes.

So courteous conge both did giue and take,
With right hands plighted, pledges of good will.
Then *Guyon* forward gan his voyage make,
With his blacke Palmer, that him guided ſtill.
Still he him guided ouer dale and hill,
And with his ſteedy ſtaffe did point his way:
His race with reaſon, and with words his will,
From fowle intemperaunce he ofte did ſtay,
And ſuſſed not in wrath his haſty ſteps to ſtray.

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197 *the Faery Queene:* Cant. I.

In this faire wize they traueld long yfere,
Through many hard affayes, which did betide,
Of which he honour ſtill away did beare,
And ſpred his glory through all countryes wide.
At laſt as chaunſt them by a foreſt ſide
To paſſe, for ſuccour from the ſcorching ray,
They heard a ruefull voice, that dearnly cride,
With percing ſhriekes, and many a dolefull lay;
Which to attend, awhile their forward ſteps they ſtay.

But if that careleſſe heuens (qd ſhe) deſpife
The doome of iuſt reuenge, and take delight
To ſee ſad pageaunts of mens miſeries,
As bownd by them to liue in liues deſpight,
Yet can they not warne death from wretched wight.
Come then, come ſoone, come ſweeteſt death to me,
And take away this long lent loathed light:
Sharpe be thy wounds, but ſweete the medicines be,
That long captiued ſoules from weary thraldome free.

But thou, ſweete Babe, whom frowning froward fate
Hath made ſad witneſſe of thy fathers fall,
Sith heuen thee deignes to hold in liuing ſtate,
Long maſt thou liue, and better thriue withall,
Then to thy luckleſſe parents did befall:
Lie thou, and to thy mother dead atteſt,
That cleare ſhe dide from blemiſh criminall,
Thy little hands embrewd in bleeding breſt
Loe I for pledges leaue. So giue me leaue to reſt.

With that a deadly ſhrieke ſhe forth did throw,
That through the wood reechoed againe,
And after gaue a grone ſo deepe and low,
That ſeemd her tender heart was rent in twaine,

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198 The second Booke of Cant. I.

Or thrild with point of thorough piercing paine;
As gentle Hynd, whose fides with cruell fteele
Through launched, forth her bleeding life does raine,
Whiles the fad pang approaching fhee does feele,
Braies out her lateft breath, and vp her eies doth feele.

Which when that warriour heard, dismounting ftraict
From his tall fteed, he rufht into the thick,
And foone arriued, where that fad pourtraict
Of death and dolour lay, halfe dead, halfe quick,
In whose white alabafter breft did ftick
A cruell knife, that made a griefly wownd,
From which forth guſht a ſtream of goreblood thick,
That all her goodly garments ſtaind arownd,
And into a deepe ſanguine dide the graffy grownd.

Pitifull ſpectacle of deadly ſmart,
Befide a bubling fountaine low ſhe lay,
Which ſhee increafed with her bleeding hart,
And the cleane waues with purple gore did ray;
Als in her lap a louely babe did play
His cruell ſport, in ſtead of ſorrow dew;
For in her ſtreaming blood he did embay
His little hands, and tender ioints embrew;
Pitifull ſpectacle, as euer eie did vew.

Besides them both, vpon the foiled gras
The dead corſe of an armed knight was ſpred,
Whose armour all with blood beſprinclied was;
His ruddy lips did ſmyle, and roſy red
Did p.aINT his chearefull cheekes, yett being ded,
Seemd to haue beene a goodly personage,
Now in his fresheſt flowre of luſty hed,
Fitt to inflame faire Lady with loues rage,
But that fiers fate did crop the bloſſome of his age.

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199

VWhom when the good Sir *Guyou* did behold,
His hart gan wexe as *ſtarke*, as marble ſtone,
And his fresh blood did frieze with fearefull cold,
That all his fences ſeemd bereſte attone:
At laſt his mighty ghoſt gan deepe to grone,
As Lion grudging in his great diſdaine,
Mournes inwardly, and makes to him ſelfe mone,
Til ruth and fraile affection did conſtraine,
His ſtout courage to ſtoupe, and ſhew his inward paine.

Out of her gored wound the cruell ſteel
He lightly ſnatcht, and did the floodgate ſtop
VWith his faire garment: then gan softly feel
Her feeble pulſe, to proue if any drop
Of liuing blood yet in her veynes did hop;
VWhich when he felt to moue, he hoped faire
To call backe life to her forſaken ſhop;
So well he did her deadly wounds repaire,
That at the laſt ſhee gan to breath out liuing aire.

VWhich he perceiuing greatly gan reioice,
And goodly counſell, that for wounded hart
Is meeteſt med'cine, tempred with ſweete voice;
Ay me, deare Lady, which the ymage art
Of rueſull pitty, and impatient ſmart,
VWhat direfull chaunce, armd with auenging fate,
Or curſed hand hath plaid this cruell part,
Thus fowle to haſten your vntimely date;
Speake, O dear Lady ſpeake: help neuer comes too late.

Therewith her dim eie-lids ſhe vp gan reare.
On which the drery death did ſitt, as fad
As lump of lead, and made darke clouds appeare;
But when as him all in bright armour clad

Before.

The second Booke of

Cant. I.

200

Before her standing she espied had,
As one out of a deadly dreame affright,
She weakely started, yet she nothing drad:
Streight downe againe her selfe in great despight,
She groueling threw to groud, as hating life and light.

The gentle knight her foone with carefull paine
Vplifted light, and softly did vphold:
Thrifhe he her reard, and thrifhe she funck againe,
Till he his armes about her fides gan fold,
And to her said; Yet if the stony cold
Haue not all seized on your frozen hart,
Let one word fall that may your griefe vnfold,
And tell the secrete of your mortall smart;
He oft finds preſent helpe, who does his griefe impart.

Then caſting vp a deadly looke, full low
Shee ſight from bottome of her wounded breſt,
And after, many bitter throbs did throw
With lips full pale and foltring tong oppreſt,
These words ſhe breathed forth from riuen cheſt;
Leaue, ah leaue of, what euer wight thou bee,
To lett a weary wretch from her dew reſt,
And trouble dying ſoules tranquilitee.
Take not away now got, which none would giue to me.

Ah far be it (faid he) Deare dame fro mee,
To hinder ſoule from her deſired reſt,
Or hold ſad life in long captiuitee:
For all I feeke, is but to haue redreſt
The bitter pangs, that doth your heart inſeſt.
Tell then O Lady tell, what fatall prieſe
Hath with ſo huge miſſ fortune you oppreſt:
That I may caſt to compas your reliefe,
Or die with you in ſorrow, and partake your griefe,

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201

With feeble hands then stretched forth on hye,
As heuen accufing guilty of her death,
And with dry drops congealed in her eye,
In these ſad wordes ſhe ſpent her vtmoſt breath:
Heare then, O man, the ſorrowes that vneath
My tong can tell, so far all ſence they pas:
Loe this dead corpſe, that lies here vnderneath,
The gentleſt knight, that euer on greene gras (was)
Gay ſteed with spurs did pricke, the good Sir Mortdant

Was, (ay the while, that he is not ſo now)
My Lord my loue; my deare Lord, my deare loue,
So long as heuens iuſt with equall brow,
Vouchſafed to behold vs from aboue,
One day when him high corage did emmoue,
As wont ye knightes to feeke aduentures wilde,
He pricked forth his puiffaunt force to proue,
Me then he left enwombed of this childe,
This luckles childe, whom thus ye fee with blood deſild.

Him fortuned (hard fortune ye may gheſſe)
To come, where vile Acrasia does wonne,
Acrasia a falſe enchauntereſſe,
That many errant knightes hath fowle fordonne:
Within a wandring Iland, that doth ronne
And ſtray in perilous gulſe, her dwelling is,
Fayre Sir, if euer there ye trauell, ſhonne
The curled land where many wend amis,
And know it by the name; it hight the Bowre of blis.

Her blis is all in pleafure and delight,
Wherewith ſhe makes her louers dronken mad,
And then with words & weedes of wondrous might,
On them ſhe workes her will to yſes bad:

My

202

The second Booke of
Cant. I.

My lieſt Lord ſhe thus beguiled had
For he was ſleſh: (all ſleſh doth fraylie breed)
Whom when I heard to beene ſo ill beſtad
Weake wretch I wrapt my ſelfe in Palmers weed;
And caſt to ſeek him forth through danger & great dreed

Now had ſayre Cynthia by euen tournes
Full meaſured three quarters of her yeare,
And thrifſe three tymes had ſild her crooked hornes,
Whenas my wombe her burdein would forbeare,
And bad me call Lucina to me neare.
Lucina came: a manchild forth I brought: (weare,
The woods, the Nymphes, my bowres, my midwiues
Hard helpe at need. So deare thee babe I bought,
Yet nought to dear I deemd, while ſo my deare I ſought

Him ſo I ſought, and ſo at laſt I ſownd
Where him that witch had thralled to her will,
In chaines of luſt and lewde deſyres ybownd
And ſo transformed from his former skill,
That me he knew not, nether his owne ill;
Till through wife handling and faire gouernaunce,
I him recured to a better will,
Purged from drugs of ſowle intemperaunce:
Then meanes I gan deuife for his deliuerance.

Which when the vile Enchauntereſſe perceiu'd,
How that my Lord from her I would repriue,
With cup thus charmd, him parting ſhe deceiu'd;
Sad verſe, giue death to him that death does giue,
And loſſe of loue, to her that loues to liue,
So ſoone as Bacchus with the Nymphe does lincke,
So parted we, and on our iourney driue,
Till comming to this well, he ſtoupt to drincke:
The charme fulſild, dead ſuddeinly he downe did ſinke.

Which

203

the Faery Queene.

Cant. I.

the Faëry Queene.

Which when I wretch, Not one word more ſhe layd
But breaking of, the end forwant of breath,
And flying ſoft, as downe to ſleepe her layd,
And ended all her woe in quiet death.
That ſeeing good Sir *Guyon*, could vneath
From teares abſtayne, for grieſe his hart did grate,
And from ſo heauie fight his head did wreath,
Accusing fortune, and too cruell fate,
Which plonged had faire Lady in ſo wretched ſtate.

Then turning to his Palmer ſaid, Old ſyre
Behold the ymage of mortalitie,
And feeble nature cloth'd with ſleſhly tyre
When raging paſſion with ſierce tyranny
Robs reaton of her dew regalitie,
And makes it ſeruaunt to her basest part,
The ſtrong it weakens with infirmitie :
And with bold ſurie armes the weakeſt hart;
The ſtrong through pleaſure ſooneſt falles, the weake
(through ſmart.)

But temperaunce (said he) with golden ſquire
Betwixt them both can meaſure out a meane,
Nether to melt in pleaſures whott deſyre,
Nor frye in hartleſſe grieſe and dolefull tene.
Thrifſe happy man, who fares them both atweene.
But ſith this wretched woman ouercome
Of anguith, rather then of crime hath bene,
Referue her caufe to her eternall doome,
And in the meane vouchſafe her honorable toombe.

Palmer, qd. he, death is an equall doome
To good and bad, the commen In of reſt.
But after death the tryall is to come,
When beſt ſhall bee to them, that liued beſt.

But

The second Booke of
Cant. I.

204

But both alike, when death hath both suppreft,
Religious reuerence doth buriall teene,
Which who so wants, wants so much of his rest:
For all so greetfhame after death I weene,
As felte to dyen bad, vnburied bad to beene.

So both agree their bodies to engraue;
The great earthes wombe they open to the sky,
And with ſad Cypreſſe ſeemely it embraue,
Then couering with a clod their cloſed eye,
They lay therein thate corſes tenderly,
And bid them ſleepe in euerlaſting peace.
But ere they did their vtmoſt obſequy,
Sir *Guyon* more affection to increace,
Bynempt a ſacred vow, which none ſhould ay releace.

The dead knights ſword out of his ſheath he drew,
With which he cutt a lock of all their heare,
Which medling with their blood & earth, he threw
Into the graue, and gan deuoutly ſweare;
Such and ſuch euil God on *Guyon* reare,
And worſe and worſe young Orphane be thy payne,
If I or thou dew vengeance doe forbeare,
Till guiltie blood her guerdon doe obtayne:
So shedding many teares, they cloſd the earth agayne,

Cant.

Cant. II.

the Faerie Queene.

205

Cant II.

Babes bloody handes may not be clenſd,
the face of golden Meane.

Her fifters two Extremities:
ſtrue her to banish cleane.

T
Hus when Sir Guyon with his faithful guyde
Had with dew rites and dolorous lament
The end of their ſad Tragedie vptyde,
The little babe vp in his armes he hent;
Who with fweet pleafaunce and bold blandifhment
Gan ſmyle on them, that rather ought to weepe,
As carelſſe of his woe,or innocent
Of that was doen, that ruth emperced deepe (ſteepe.
In that knightes hart, and wordes with bitter teares did

Ah luckleſſe babe, borne vnder cruell ſtarre,
And in dead parents balefull aſhes bred,
Full little weeneſt thou, what ſorrowes are
Left thee for porcion of thy liuelyhed,
Poore Orphane in the wide world ſcattered,
As budding braunch rent from the native tree,
And throwen forth, till it be withered:
Such is the ſtate of men: Thus enter we
Into this life with woe, and end with miſeree.

Then ſoft him ſelfe inclyning on his knee
Downe to that well, did in the water weene
(So loue does loath diſdainefull nicitee.)
His guiltie handes from bloody gore to cleene;

He

206 *The Second Booke of Cant. II.*

206

He waſt them oft and oft, yet nought they beene
For all his waſhing cleaner. Still he ſtroue,
Yet ſtill the little hands were bloody ſeele;
The which him into great amaz'ment druoe,
And into diuerſe doubt his wauering wonder cloue.

He wift not whether blott of fowle offence
Might not be purgd with water nor with bath;
Or that high God, in lieu of innocence,
Imprinted had that token of his wrath,
To ſhew how ſore bloodguiltineſſe he hat'h;
Or that the charme and veneme, which they dronck;
Their blood with ſecret filth infec'd hath,
Being diffuſed through the ſenceleſſe tronck,
That through the great contagion direful deadly ſtonck,

Whom thus at gaze, the Palmer gan to bord
With goodly reaſon, and thus fayre beſpake;
Ye bene right hart amated, gratious Lord,
And of your ignorance great merueill make,
Whiles cauſe not well conceiued ye miſtake.
But know, that ſecret vertues are inſuſd
In euery fountaine, and in euerie lake,
Which who hath skill them rightly to haue chuſd,
To proofe of paſſing wonders hath full often vſd.

Of thoſe ſome were ſo from their ſourſe indewd
By great Dame Nature, from whose fruitſull pap
Their welheads ſpring, and are with moſture deawd;
Which ſeedes each liuing plant with liquid ſap,
And ſilles with flowres fayre *Floraes* painted lapt
But other ſome by guifte of later grace,
Or by good prayers, or by other hap,
Had vertue pourd into their waters bace, (place,
And thenceforth were renowmd, and ſought from place
Such

Cant. II. the Faery Queene.

207

207

Such is this well, wrought by occasion ſtraunge,
Which to her Nymph befell. Vpon a day,
As the the woodes with bow and ſhaftes did raunge,
The hartleſſe Hynd and Robucke to diſmay,
Dan Faunus chaunſt to meet her by the way,
And kindling fire at her faire burning eye,
Inflamed was to follow beauties chace,
And chaced her, that ſaſt from him did fly;
As Hynd from her, ſo she ſled from her eniuy.

At laſt when fayling breath began to faint,
And ſaw no meanes to ſcape, of ſhame affrayd,
She let her downe to weepe for ſore conſtraint,
And to *Diana* calling low'd for ayde,
Her deare befought, to let her die a mayd.
The goddeſſe heard, and ſuddeine where ſhe ſate,
Welling out ſtreames of teares, and quite diſmayd
With ſtony ſeare of that rude ruſtick mate,
Transform'd her to a ſtone from ſtedſaſt virgins ſtate.

Lo now ſhe is that ſtone, from whose two heads,
As from two weeping eyes, freeh ſtreames do flow,
Yet colde through ſeare, and old conceiued dreads;
And yet the ſtone her ſemblance ſeemes to ſhow,
Shapt like a maide, that ſuch ye may her know;
And yet her vertues in her water byde :
For it is chafte and pure, as pureſt inow,
Ne lets her waues with any filth be dyde,
But euer like her ſelſe vnſtayned hath beene tryde.

From thence it comes, that this babes bloody hand
May not be cleſſd with water of this well:
Ne certes Sir ſtriume you it to withſtand,
But let them ſtill be bloody, as befell,

O

That

The second Booke of Cant. II.

208

That they his mothers innocence may tell,
As she bequeathd in her last testament;
That as a sacred Symbole it may dwell
In her fonnes flesh, to mind reuengement,
And be for all chafte Dames an endleſe monument.

He hearkned to his reafon, and the childe
Vptaking, to the Palmer gaue to beare;
But his ſad fathers armes with blood deſilde,
An heauie load himſelfe did lightly reare,
And turning to that place, in which whyleare
He left his loftie ſteed with golden ſell,
And goodly gorgeous barbes, him found not theare.
By other accident that earſt beſell,
He is conuaide, but how or where, here ſixs not tell.

Which when Sir *Guyon* ſaw, all were he wroth,
Yet algates mote he ſoft himſelfe appeaſe,
And fairely fare on foot, how euer loth ;
His double burden did him ſore diſeaſe.
So long they traueiled with little eaſe,
Till that at laſt they to a Caſtle came,
Built on a rocke adioyning to the ſeas,
It was an auncient worke of antique frame,
And wondrous ſtrong by nature, and by skilſull frame.

Therein three lifters dwelt of fundry fort,
The children of one ſyre by mothers three;
Who dying whylome did diuide this fort
To them by equall ſhares in equall ſee:
But ſtryfull mind, and diuerſe qualitee
Drew them in parties, and each made others ſoe:
Still did they ſtrive, and daily diſagree,
The eldeſt did againſt the youngelt goe,
And both againſt the middeſt meant to worken woe.

Where

the Faerie Queene.

Cant. II.

209

Where when the knight arriu'd, he was right well
Receiu'd, as knight of so much worth became,
Of ſecond ſifter, who did far excell
The other two; *Medina* was her name,
A ſober ſad, and comely courteous Dame;
Who rich arayd, and yet in modeſt guize,
In goodly garments, that her well became,
Fayre marching forth in honorable wize,
Him at the threshold mett, and well did enterprize.

She led him vp into a goodly bowre,
And comely courted with meet modeſſie,
Ne in her ſpeach, ne in her hauiour,
Was lightneſſe ſeene, or looſer vanitie,
But gratious womanhood, and grauitie,
Aboue the reaſon of her youthly yeares :
Her golden lockes ſhe roundly did vptye
In breaded tramels, that no looſer heares
Did out of order ſtray about her daintie eares.

Whileſt ſhe her ſelfe thus busily did frame,
Seemely to entertaine her new-come gueſt,
Newes hereof to her other ſifters came,
Who all this while were at their wanton reſt,
Accounting each her friend with lauith ſeſt:
They were two knights of pereleſſe puiffaunce,
And famous far abroad for warlike geſt,
Which to theſe Ladies loue did countenaunce,
And to his miſtreſſe each himſelfe ſtroue to aduaunce.

Hethat made loue vnto the eldeſt Dame,
Was hight Sir *Huddibras*, an hardy man;
Yet not so good of deedes, as great of name,
Which he by many rafh aduentures wan,

O 2

Since

210

The second Booke of

Cant. II.

Since errant armes to few he first began ;
More huge in strength, then wife in workes he was,
And reason with foolery-hardize ouer ran ;
Sterne melancholy did his courage pas,
And was for terror more, all armes in flying bras.

But he that lou'd the youngest, was Sansley,
He that faire Vna late fowle outraged,
The most vnruly, and the boldest boy,
That euer warlike weapons menaged,
And to all lawlesse luft encouraged,
Through strong opinion of his matchlesse might:
Ne ought he car'd, whom he endamaged
By tortious wrong, or whom bereau'd of right.
He now this Ladies Champion chose for loue to fight.

These two gay knights, vowd to so diuerse loues,
Each other does envy with deadly hate,
And daily warre against his foeman moues,
In hope to win more fauour with his mate,
And th'others pleasing seruice to abate,
To magnifie his owne. But when they heard,
How in that place a straunge knight arriued late,
Both knightes and ladies forth right angry far'd,
And fercely vnto battell sterne themselues prepar'd.

But ere they could proceede vnto the place,
Where he abode, themselues at discord fell,
And cruell combat ioynd in middle space :
With horrible assault, and fury fell,
They heapt huge strokes, the corned life to quell,
That all on vprore from her fettled seat,
The house was rayld, and all that in did dwell;
Seemd that lowde thunder with amazement great
Did rend the ratling skies with flames of fouldring heat,
The

211

Cant. II.

the Faery Queene.

The noyse thereof cald forth that straunger knight,
To weet, what dreadfull thing was there in hand;
Where when as two braue knightes in bloody fight
With deadly rancour he enraunged fond,
His funbroad shield about his wreft he bond,
And flyning blade vnshheathd, with which he ran
Vnto that stead, their strife to vnderftond;
And at his first arriuall, them began
With goodly meanes to pacific, well as he can.

But they him spying, both with greedy forfe
Attonce vpon him ran, and him befet
With strokes of mortall steele without remorſe,
And on his shield like yron fledges bet:
As when a Beare and Tygre being met
In cruell fight on lybicke Ocean wide,
Eſpye a traueiler with feet ſurber,
Whom they in equall pray hope to diuide,
They ſtint their strife, and him affayle on euerie fide.

But he, not like a weary traueilere,
Their sharp affault right boldly did rebut,
And ſuffred not their blowes to byte him nere,
But with redoubled buffes them backe did put :
Whole grieued mindes, which choler did englut,
Againſt themſelues turning their wrathfull ſpight,
Gan with new rage their ſhieldes to hew and cut;
But ſtill when Guyon came to part their fight,
With heauie load on him they freshly gan to ſmight.

As a tall ship toffed in troublous seas,
Whom raging windes threatening to make the pray
Of the rough rockes, doe diuerſly diſeafe,
Meetes two contrarie billowes by the way,

O 3

That

212

The second Booke of
Cant. II.

That her on either side does fore affay,
And boast to swallow her in greedy graue;
(way,
Shee scorning both their spights, does make wide
And with her breft breaking the fomy waue,
Does ride on both their backs, & faire her self doth faue.

So boldly he him beares, and rufheth forth
Betweene them both, by conduct of his blade.
Wondrous great prowesse and heroick worth
He shewd that day, and rare enſample made,
When two ſo mighty warriours he diſmade:
Atonce he wards and ſtrikes, he takes and paires,
Now forſt to yield, now forcing to inuade,
Before, behind, and round about him laies:
So double was his paines, ſo double be his praeſe.

Straunge ſort of fight, three valiaunt knights to ſee
Three combates ioine in one, and to darraine
A triple warre with triple enmitee,
All for their Ladies froward loue to gaine,
Which gotten was but hate. So loue does raine
In ſtouſt ſtands, and maketh monſtrous warre;
He maketh warre, he maketh peace againe,
And yett his peace is but continuall iatre:
O miſerable men, that to him ſubieſt arre.

Whilſt thus they mingled were in ſurious armes,
The faire Medina with her treſſes torne,
And naked breſt, in pitty of their harmes,
Emongſt them ran, and falling them beſome,
Befought them by the womb, which them had born,
And by the loues, which were to them moſt deare,
And by the knighthood, which they ſure had ſworn,
Their deadly cruell diſcord to forbeare,
And to her iuſt conditions of faire peace to heare.

But

213

Cant. II.

the Freay Queene:

But her two other ſifters ſtanding by,
Her lowd gainſaid, and both her champions bad
Purſew the end of their ſtrong enmity.
As euern of their loues they would be glad.
Yet ſhe with pitthy words and counſell ſad,
Still ſtroue their ſtubborne rages to reuoke,
That at the laſt ſuppreffing fury mad,
They gan abſtaine from dint of direſſul ſtroke,
And hearken to the ſober ſpeaches, which ſhe ſpoke.

Ah puiffaunt Lords, what curſed euill Spright,
Or ſell Erimys in your noble harts,
Her helſiſh brond hath kindled with deſpight,
And ſtird you vp to worke your wilſull ſmarts ?
Is this the ioy of armes? be theſe the parts
Of glorious knighthood, after blood to thruſt,
And not regard dew right and iuſt deſarts?
Vaine is the vaunt, and victory vnioſt,
That more to mighty hāds, the rightſful cauſe doth truſt.

And were their rightſull cauſe of difference,
Yet were not better, fayre it to accord,
Then with blood guiltneſſe to heape offence,
And mortal vengeaunce ioyne to crime abhorſ?
O fly from wrath, fly, O my lieſeſt Lord:
Sad be the ſights, and bitter fruites of warre,
And thouſand ſuries wait on wrathſull ſword;
Ne ought the praeſe of prowesse more doth marre,
Then fowle reuenging rage, and bafe contentious iarre.

But louely concord, and moſt ſacred peace
Doth nouriſh vertue, and faſt ſriendſhip breeds;
Weake the make ſtrōg, & ſtrong thing does increace,
Till it the pitch of higheſt praeſe exceeds:

O 4

Braue

214

The second Booke of
Cant. II.

Braue be her warres, and honorable deeds,
By which she triumphes ouer yre and pride,
And winnes an Oliue girlond for her meeds:
Be therefore, O my deare Lords, pacifide,
And this misfeming disford meekely lay afide,

Her gracious words their rancour did appall,
And funcke so deepe into their boyling frefts,
That downe they lett their cruell weapons fall,
And lowly did abafe their lofty crefts
To her faire prefence, and difcrete behefts,
Then she began a treaty to procure,
And stablifh termes betwixt both their requefts,
That as a law for euer should endure;
Which to obferue in word of knights they did affure.

Which to confirme, and faft to bind their league,
After their weary sweat and bloody toile,
She them befought, during their quiet treague,
Into her lodging to repaire a while,
To reft themſelues, and grace to reconcile.
They ſoone consent: so forth with her they fare,
Where they are well receiud, and made to spoile
Themselues of foiled armes, and to prepare
Their minds to pleafure, & their mouths to dainty fare.

And thofe two froward lifters, their faire loues
Came with them eke, all were they wondrous loth,
And fained cheare, as for the time behoues,
But could not colour yet so well the troth,
But that their natures bad appeard in both:
For both did at their ſecond lifter grutch,
And inly grieue, as doth an hidden moth
The inner garment frett, not th'vttter touch; (mutch,
One though ther cheare too little, th'other thought too

Eliza

Cant. II. the Faery Queene

215

Eliffa (so the eldeſt hight) did deeme
Such entertainment bafe, ne ought would eat,
Ne ought would ſpeake, but euermore did ſeeme
As diſcontent for want of merth or meat;
No ſolace could her Paramour intreat
Her once to ſhow, ne court, nor dalliaunce,
But with bent lowring browes, as ſhe would threat,
She ſcould, and frownd with froward countenaunce,
Vnworthy of faire Ladies comely gouernaunce.

But young Periffa was of other mynd,
Full of diſport, ſtill laughing, loosely light,
And quite contrary to her lifters kynd;
No meaſure in her mood, no rule of right,
But poured out in pleafure and delight;
In wine and meats ſhe flowd aboue the banck,
And in exceſſe exceeded her owne might;
In ſumptuous tire ſhe ioyd her ſelfe to prank,
But of her loue too lauith (litle haue ſhe thanck.)

First by her ſide did ſitt the bold Sansley,
Fitt mate for ſuch a mincing mineon,
Who in her looseneſſe tooke exceeding ioy;
Might not be found a francker franion,
Of her leawd parts to make companion:
But Huddibras, more like a Malecontent,
Did ſee and grieue at his bold ſaſhion;
Hardly could he endure his hardiment,
Yett ſtill he ſatt, and inly did him ſelfe torment.

Betwixt them both the faire Medina ſate
With ſober grace, and goodly carriage:
With equall meaſure ſhe did moderate
The ſtrong extremities of their outrage,

That

216

The second Booke of Cant. II.

That forward paire she euer would aſſwage,
When they would ſtriump dew reaſon to exceed;
But that fame froward twaine would accorage,
And of her plenty adde vnto their need:
So kept she them in order, and her ſelſe in heed.

Thus fairely ſhee attempered her ſeaſt,
And pleaſt them all with meete ſatiety:
At laſt when luſt of meat and drinke was ceaſt,
She *Guyon* deare beſought of curſeſe,
To tell from whence he came through icopardy,
And whether now on new aduenture bownd.
Who with bold grace, and comely gravity,
Drawing to him the eies of all arownd,
From lofty ſiſe began theſe words aloud to ſownd.

This thy demaund, O Lady, doth reuiue
Fresh memory in me of that great Queene,
Great and moſt glorious virgin Queene aline,
That with her ſoueraine powre, and ſcepter ſhene
All Faery lond does peaceably ſuſtene.
In wideſt Ocean ſhe her throne does reare,
That ouer all the earth it may be ſene;
As morning Sunne her beames diſpredden cleare,
And in her face faire peace, and mercy doth appeare.

In her the richeſſe of all heauenly grace,
In chieſe degree are heaped vp on hye:
And all that els this worlds encloſure bace,
Hath great or glorious in mortall eye.
Adornes the perſon of her Maiestye;
That men beholding ſo great excellence,
And rare perſection in mortalitye,
Doe her adore with ſacred reuerence,
As th'Idole of her makers great magnificence.

To

217

Cant. II. the Faery Queene.

To her I homage and my ſeruice owe,
In number of the nobleſt knights on ground,
Mongſt whom on me ſhe deigned to beſtowe
Order of *Maydenhead*, the moſt renownd,
That may this day in all the world be found,
Any early ſolemne ſeaſt ſhe wontes to make
The day that firſt doth lead the yeare around;
To which all knights of worth and courage bold
Reſort, to heare of ſtraunge aduentures to be told.

There this old Palmer ſhewd himſelſe that day,
And to that mighty Princeſſe did complaine
Of grieuous miſchiefes, which a wicked Fay
Had wrought, and many whelmd in deadly paine,
Whereof he krau'd redreſſe. My Soueraine,
Whofe glory is in gracious deeds, and ioyes
Throughout the world her mercy to maintaine,
Eſtſoones deuifd redreſſe for ſuch annoyes;
Me all vnſitt for ſo great purpofe ſhe employes,

Now hath faire *Phebe* with her filuer face
Thrifſe ſeene the ſhadowes of the neather world,
Sith laſt I left that honorable place,
In which her roiall preſence is entrold;
Ne euer ſhall I reſt in houſe nor hold,
Till I that falſe *Acrasia* haue wonne;
Of whoſe ſowle deedes, too hideous to bee told
I witneſſe am, and this their wretched ſonne,
Whoſe woſull parents ſhe hath wickedly fordonne,

Tell on, fayre Sir, faſd ſhe, that doleſſull tale,
From which ſad ruth does ſeeme you to reſtraine,
That we may pitty ſuch vnhappie bale,
And learne from pleafures poyſon to abſtaine:

III

218 *The second Booke of the Second II.*

Ill by enſample good doth often gayne,
Then forward he his purpose gan purſew,
And told the ſtory of the mortall payne,
Which Mordant and Amauia did rew;
As with lamenting eyes him ſelfe did lately vew.

Night was far ſpent, and now in Ocean deep
Orion, flying ſaft from hilling ſnake,
His flaming head did haſten for to ſteep,
When of his pitteous tale he end did make;
Whilft with delight of that he wifely ſpake,
Thoſe gueſtes beguiled, did beguyle their eyes
Of kindly ſleepe, that did them ouertake.
At laſt when they had markt the chaunged skyes,
They wift their houre was ſpét, the each to reſt him byes

## Cant. III.

Uaine Braggadocchio getting Guyons
horſe is made the ſcorne
Of knighthood trew, and is of ſayre
Belphæbe fowle for lorne.

S Oone as the morrow ſayre with purple beames
Dipſerſt the ſhadowes of the mily night,
And *Titan* playing on the easterne ſtreames,
Gan cleare the deawy ayre with ſpringing light,
Sir *Guyon* mindfull of his vow yplight,
Vproſe from drowſe couch, and him addreſt
Vnto the iourney which he had behight:
His puiffaunt armes about his noble breſt,
And many-fold ſhield he bound about his wreft.

Then

219

## Cant. III. the Faery Queene.

Then taking Congè of that virgin pure,
The bloody-handed babe vnto her truth
Did earneſtly committ, and her coniure,
In vertuous lore to traine his tender youth,
And all that gentle noriture enſueth:
And that ſo ſoone as ryper yeares he rought,
He might for memory of that dayes ruth,
Be called Ruddymane, and thereby taught,
T'auenge his Parents death on the, that had it wrought.

So forth he far'd, as now befell, on foot,
Sith his good ſeed is lately from him gone;
Patience perforce: helpleſſe what may it boot
To frett for anger, or for grieſe to mone?
His Palmer now ſhall foot no more alone:
So fortune wrought, as vnder greene woodes ſyde
He lately hard that dying Lady grone,
He left his ſeed without, and ſcare beſyde,
And rufſed in on foot to ayd her, ere the dyde.

The whyles a loſſell wandring by the way,
One that to bountie neuer caſt his mynd,
Ne thought of honour euer did affay
His baſer breſt, but in his keſtrell kynd
A pleafing vaine of glory he did ſynd,
To which his flowing toung, and troublous ſpright
Gaue him great ayd, and made him more inclynd:
He that braue ſeed there finding ready dight,
Purloyn'd both ſeed and ſcare, and ran away full light.

Now gan his hart all ſwell in iollity,
And of him ſelfe great hope and help concei'u'd,
That puffed vp with ſmoke of vanity,
And with ſelfe-loued personage deceiu'd,

He

220

The second Booke of
Cant. III.

He gan to hope, of men to be receiud
For luch, as he him thought, or faine would bee:
But for in court gay portaunce he perceiud,
And gallant shew to be in greateft gree,
Eftsoones to court he caſt t'aduaunce his firſt degree.

And by the way he chaunced to eſpy
One ſitting ydle on a funny banck,
To whom auainting in great brauery,
As Peacocke, that his painted plumes doth pranck,
He ſmote his courſer in the trembling ſlanck,
And to him threatned his hart-thrilling ſpeare:
The ſeely man ſeeing him ryde ſo ranck,
And ayme at him, ſell flatt to ground for ſeare,
And crying Mercy loud, his pitious handes gan reare.

Thereat the Scarcrow wexed wondrous prowd,
Through fortune of his firſt aduenture ſayre,
And with big thundring voice reuyld him lowd;
Vile Caytiue, vaffall of dread and deſpayre,
Vnworthie of the commune breathed ayre,
Why liueſt thou, dead dog, a lenger day,
And doeſt not vnto death thy ſelſe prepayre.
Dy, or thy ſelſe my captive yield for ay;
Great ſauour I thee graunt, for aunſwere thus to ſtay.

Hold, O deare Lord, hold your dead-doing hand,
Then loud he cryde, I am your humble thrall.
Ah wretch (qd. he) thy deſtinies withſtand
My wrathfull will, and doe for mercy call.
I giue thee life: therefore pROſtrated fall,
And kiffe my ſtirrup; that thy homage bee.
The Miser threw him ſelſe, as an Offall,
Streight at his foot in bafe humilitee,
And cieeped him his liege, to hold of him in fee.

So

221

Cant. III: the Faerie Queene.

So happy peace they made and faire accord:
Eſttoones this liegeman gan to wexe more bold,
And when he felt the folly of his Lord,
In his owne kind he gan him ſelſe vnfold:
For he was wylie witted, and growne old
In cunning fleightes and practick knauery.
From that day forth he caſt for to vphold
His ydle humour with fine flattery,
And blow the bellowes to his ſwelling vanity.

Trompart ſitt man for Braggadochio,
To ſerue at court in view of vaunting eye,
Vaineglorious man, when fluttring wind does blow
In his light winges, is lifted vp to skye:
The ſcorne of knighthood and trew cheualry,
To thinke without deſert of gentle deed,
And noble worth to be aduaunced hye:
Such prayſe is ſhame, but honour vertues meed
Doth beare the fayreſt flowre in honourable feed.

So forth they pas, a well conſorted payre,
Till that at length with Archimage they meet:
Who ſeeing one that thone in armour ſayre,
On goodly courſe thondring with his ſeet,
Eſttoones ſuppoſed him a perſon meet,
Of his reuenge to make the inſtrument:
For ſince the Redcraſſe knight he erſt did weet,
To beene with Guyon knitt in one conſent,
The ill, which earſt to him, he now to Guyon ment.

And comming close to Trompart gan inquere
Of him, what mightie warriour that mote bee;
That rode in golden ſell with single ſpere,
But wanted ſword to wreake his enmitee.

He

The second Booke of

Cant. III.

222

He is a great aduenturer, (said he)
That hath his Sword through hard affay forgone,
And now hath vowd, till he auenged bee,
Of that deſpight, neuer to weare none;
That ſpeare is him enough to doen a thouſand groane.

Th'enchaunter greatly ioyed in the vaunt,
And weened well ere long his will to win,
And both his foen with equall foyle to daunt.
Tho to him louting lowly did begin
To plaine of wronges, which had committed bin
By Guyon, and by that false Redcrosſe knight,
Which two through treaſon and deceptiſt full gin,
Had ſlayne Sir Mordant, and his Lady bright:
That mote him honour win, to wreak ſo ſoule deſpight.

Therewith all ſuſdeinly he ſeemd enragd,
And threatned death with dreadfull countenaunce,
As if their liues had in his hand beene gagd;
And with ſtiffe force ſhaking his mortall launce,
To let him weet his doughtie valiaunce,
Thus ſaid; Old man, great ſure ſhalbe thy meed,
If where thoſe knights for ſeare of dew vengeaunce
Doe lurke, thou certeinly to mee areed,
That I may wreake on them their hainous hatefull deed.

Certes, my Lord, (said he) that ſhall I ſoone,
And giue you eke good helpe to their decay.
But mote I wifely you aduife to doon;
Giuе no ods to your foes, but doe puruay
Your ſelfe of ſword before that bloody day:
For they be two the proweſt knights on grownd,
And oft approu'd in many hard affay,
And eke of ſureſt ſteele, that may be ſownd,
Doe arme your ſelf againſt that day, them to confownd,

Dotard

the Faëry Queene.

223

Cant. III.

Dotard, (ſaide he) let be thy deepe aduife;
Seemes that through many yeares thy wits thee faile,
And that weake eld hath left thee nothing wife,
Els neuer ſhould thy iudgement be ſo frayle,
To meaſure manhood by the ſword or mayle.
Is not enough ſowre quarters of a man,
Withouten ſword or ſhield, an hoſte to quayle?
Thou little woteſt, what this right-hand can: (wan,
Speake they, which haue beheld the battailes, which it

The man was much abaſhed at his boaſt;
Yet well he wift, that who ſo would contend
With either of thoſe knightes on euen coaſt,
Should neede of all his armes, him to defend,
Yet feared leaſt his boldneſſe ſhould offenſ,
When Braggadocchio ſaide, Once I did ſweare, (end,
When with one ſword ſeuen knightes I brought to
Thence forth in battaile neuer ſword to beare,
But it were that, which nobleft knight on earth doth
weare.

Perdy Sir knight, ſaide then th'enchaunter blue,
That ſhall I ſhortly purchafe to your hond:
For now the beſt and nobleft knight aliue,
Prince Arthur is, that wonnes in Faerie lond;
He hath a ſword, that flames like burning brond.
The fame by my deuice I vndertake
Shall by to morrow by thy ſide be fond.
At which bold word that boaſter gan to quake,
And wondred in his minde, what mote that Monſter
(make).

He ſtayd not for more bidding, but away
Was ſuſdein vaniſhed out of his ſight:
The Northerne winde his wings did broad diſplay
At his commaund, and reared him vp light

P

From

224

From of the earth, to take his aerie flight,
They lookt about, but no where could espye
Traet of his foot : then dead through great affright
They both nigh were, and each bad other flye:
Both fled attonce, ne euer backe retourned eye.

Till that they come vnto a forreft greene,
In which they fhowd theſelues from caufeles ſeare,
Yet ſeare them followes ſtill, where ſo they beene,
Each trembling leafe, and whifting wind they heare,
As ghaftly bug does vnto them affeare :
Yet both doe ſtriume their ſeaſefulneſſe to faire,
At laſt they heard a horne, that ſhrilled cleare
Throughout the wood, that ecchoed againe,
And made the forreſt ring, as it would riue in twaine.

Eſt through the thicke they heard one rudely ruff;
With noyſe whereof he from his loftie ſteed
Downe ſell to ground, and crept into a buſh,
To hide his coward head from dying dreed,
But Trompart ſtoutly ſtayd to taken heed,
Of what might hap. Eſt ſoone there ſtepped ſoorth
A goodly Ladie clad in hunters weed,
That ſeemd to be a woman of great worth,
And by her ſtately portance, borne of heauenly birth,

Her face ſo faire as fleſh it ſeemed nor,
But heuenly pourtraict of bright Angels hew,
Cleare as the skye, withouten blame or blot,
Through goodly mixture of complexions dew;
And in her cheekes the vermeill red did ſhow
Like roſes in a bed of lillies ſhed,
The which ambroſiall odours from them threw,
And gazers ſence with double pleafure ſed,
Hable to heale the ſicke, and to reuiue the ded.

Ia

the Faerie Queene.

225

Cant. II.

In her faire eyes two liuing lamps did flame,
Kindled aboue at th'heuenly makers light,
And darted fyrie beames out of the fame,
So paſſing perſant, and ſo wondrous bright,
That quite bereau'd the rafh beholders fight :
In them the blinded god his luſtfull ſyre
To kindle oft affayd, but had no might;
For with dredd Maiestie, and awſull yre,
She broke his wanton darts, and quenched bace deſyre.

Her yuoric forhead, full of bountie braue,
Like a broad table did it ſelfe diſpred,
For Loue his loftie triumphes to engraue,
And write the battailes of his great godhed:
All good and honour might therein be red:
For there their dwelling was. And when ſhe ſpake,
Sweete wordes, like dropping honny ſhe did ſhed,
And twixt the perles and rubins ſoftly brake
A filuer ſound, that heauenly muſicke ſeemd to make.

Vpon her eyelids many Graces ſate,
Vnder the ſhadow of her euen browes,
Working belgardes, and amorous retrate,
And euer one her with a grace endowes:
And euer one with meekeneſſe to her bowes,
So glorious mirrhour of celeſtiall grace,
And ſoueraine moniment of mortall vowes,
How ſhall ſrayle pen deſcrite her heauenly face,
For ſeare through want of skill her beauty to diſgrace?

So faire, and thouſand thouſand times more faire
She ſeemd, when ſhe preſented was to fight,
And was yclad, for heat of ſcorching aire,
All in a ſilken Camus lylly wight,

P 2

Purſhed

226

The second Booke of

Cant. III.

Purfled upon with many a folded plight,
Which all aboute beſprinckled was throughout,
With golden aygulets, that glitred bright,
Like twinckling Itarres, and all the skirt about
Was hemd with golden fringe

Below her ham her weed did somewhat trayne,
And her ſtreight legs moſt braely were embayld
In gilden buskins of coſtly Cordwayne,
All bard with golden bendes, which were entayld
With curious antickes, and full fayre alwayld:
Before they faſtned were vnder her knee
In a rich iewell, and therein entryld
The ends of all the knots, that none might ſee,
How they within their ſouldings close enwrapped bee.

Like two faire marble pillours they did ſeene,
Which doe the temple of the Gods ſupport,
Whom all the people decke with girlands greene,
And honour in their ſestiuall ſerort;
Thofe fame with ſtately grace, and princely port
She taught to tread, when ſhe her ſelfe would grace,
But with the woody Nymphes when ſhe did play,
Or when the flying Libbard ſhe did chace,
She could them nimbly moue, and after fly apace.

And in her hand a sharpe bore-ſpare ſhe held,
And at her backe a bow and quiuer gay,
Stuft with ſteele-headed dartes, wherewith ſhe queld
The ſaluage beaſtes in her viſtorious play,
Knit with a golden bauldricke, which forelay
Athwart her ſnowy breſt, and did diuide
Her daintie paps; which like young fruit in May
Now little gan to ſwell, and being tide,
Through her thin weed their places only ſignifide.

Her

227

Cant. II. the Faëry Queene.

Her yellow lockes crisped, like golden wyre,
About her shoulders weren loosely ſhed,
And when the winde emongſt them did inſpyre,
They waued like a penon wyde diſpred
And low behinde her backe were ſcattered:
And whether art it were, or heedeleſſe hap,
As through the flouring forreſt rafh ſhe ſhed,
In her rude heares ſweet flowres themſelues did lap,
And flouriſing fresh leaues and bloſſomes did enwrap.

Such as Diana by the sandy shore
Of Swiſt Eurotas, or on Cynthius greene,
Where all the Nymphes haue her vnwares forlore,
Wandreth alone with bow and arrowes keene,
To ſeeke her game: Or as that famous Queene
Of Amazons, whom Pyrrhus did deſtroy,
The day that firſt of Priame ſhe was ſeene,
Did ſhow her ſelfe in great triumphant ioy,
To ſuccour the weake ſtate of ſad affiſted Troy.

Such when as hartleſſe Trompart her did vew,
He was diſmayed in his coward minde,
And doubted, whether he himſelfe should ſhow,
Or fly away, or bide alone behinde:
Both ſeare and hope he in her face did finde,
When ſhe at laſt him ſpying thus beſpake;
Hayle Groome; didſt not thou ſee a bleeding Hynde,
Whoſe right haunch earſt my ſtedſaſt arrow ſtrake?
If thou didſt, tell me, that I may her ouertake.

Wherewith reviu'd, this anſwere forth he threw;
O Goddeſſe, (for ſuch I thee take to bee)
For neither doth thy face terreftriall ſhow,
Nor voyce found mortall; I auow to thee,

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Such

228 The second Booke of

Cant. II,

Such wounded beaſt, as that, I did not fee,
Sith earſt into this forreſt wild I came.
Bur mote thy goodlyhed forgiue it mee,
To weete, which of the Gods I ſhall thee name,
That vnto thee dew worſhip I may rightly frame.

To whom ſhe thus, but ere her words enſewd,
Vnto the bush her eye did fuddein glaunce,
In which vaine Braggadocchio was mewd,
And ſaw it ſtirre: ſhe leſte her percing launce,
And towards gan a deadly ſhafte aduaunce,
In mind to marke the beaſt. At which ſad ſtowre,
Trompart forth ſtept, to ſtay the mortall chaunce,
Out crying, O what euer heuenly powre,
Or earthly wight thou be, withhold this deadly howre,

O ſtay thy hand, for yonder is no game
For thy fiers arrowes, them to exercize,
But loe my Lord, my liege, whoſe warlike name,
Is far renowmd through many bold emprize;
And now in ſhade he ſhrowded yonder lies.
She ſtaid: with that he crauld out of his neſt,
Forth creeping on his caitiue hands and thies,
And standing ſtoutly vp, his lofty creſt
Did fiercely ſhake, and rowze, as comming late fro reſt.

As fearfull fowle, that long in ſecret caue
For dread of foring hauke her ſelfe hath hid,
Not caring how her ſilly life to ſaue,
She her gay painted plumes diſorderid,
Seeing at laſt her ſelfe from daunger rid,
Peepes forth, and ſoone renews her native pride;
She gins her feathers fowle diſfigured
Prowdly to prune, and ſett on euery ſide,
So ſhakes off ſhame, ne thinks how erſt ſhe did her hide.

So

229

Cant. III.

the Faery Queene:

So when her goodly viſage he beheld,
He gan himſelfe to vaunt: but when he vewd
Thoſe deadly tooles, which in her hand ſhe held,
Soone into other ſitts he was tranſmewd,
Till ſhe to him her gracious ſpeach renewd;
All haile, Sir knight, and well may thee befall,
As all the like, which honor haue purſewd
Through deeds of armes and proweſſe martiall;
All vertue merits prieſe, but ſuch the moſt of all.

To whom he thus, O faireſt vnder skie,
Trew be thy words, and worthy of thy prieſe,
That warlike feats doeſt higheſt gloriſe.
Therein I haue ſpent all my youthly daies,
And many battailes fought, and many fraies
Throughout the world, wher ſo they might be ſoud,
Endeuring my dreaded name to raiſe
Aboue the Moone, that fame may it reſound
In her eternall tromp, with laurell girland ground.

But what art thou, O Lady, which doeſt raunge
In this wilde foreſt, where no pleaſure is,
And doeſt not it for ioyous court exchaunge,
Emongſt thine equall peres, where happy blis
And all delight does raigne, much more then this?
There thou maiſt loue, and dearly loued be,
And ſwim in pleaſure, which thou here doeſt mis;
There maiſt thou beſt be ſeene, and beſt maiſt ſee:
The wood is fit for beaſts, the court is ſitt for thee.

Who ſo in pompe of prowd eſtate (qd. ſhe)
Does ſwim, and bathes him ſelfe in courtly blis,
Does waſte his dayes in darke obſcuritee,
And in obliuion euer buried is:

P 4

Where

230
The second Booke of
Cant. III.

Where eafe abownds, yet's eath to doe amis,
But who his limbs with labours, and his mynd
Behaues with cares, cannot so eafy mis.
Abroad in armes, at home in studious kynd
Who seekes with painfull toile, shal honor fooneſt fynd.

In woods, in waues, in warres ſhe wonts to dwell,
And wilbe found with perill and with pane;
Ne can the man, that moulds in ydle cell,
Vnto her happy manſion attaine:
Before her gate high God did Sweate ordaine,
And wakefull watches euer to abide:
But eafy is the way, and paſſage plaine
To pleafures pallace; it may ſoon be ſpide,
And day and night her dores to all ſtand open wide.

In Princes court. The reſt ſhe would haue ſayd,
But that the foolish man, ſild with delight
Of her ſweete words, that all his ſence diſmayd,
And with her wondrous beauty rauiſht quight,
Gan burne in filthy luſt, and leaping light,
Thought in his baſtard armes her to embrace.
With that ſhe ſwaruing backe, her Iauelin bright
Againſt him bent, and ſtercely did menace:
So turned her about, and ſled away apace.

Which when the Pefaunt ſaw, amazd he ſtood,
And griecued at her flight; yet durſt he nott
Purfew her ſteps, through wild vnknowen wood;
Befides he feard her wrath, and threatned ſhott
Whiles in the bush he lay, not yet ſorgott:
Ne car'd he greatly for her preſence vayne,
But turning ſaid to Trompart, W hat ſowle blott
Is this to knight, that Lady ſhould agayne
Depart to woods vntoucht, & leaue ſo proud diſdayne?

Perdy

231

Cant. III.
the Faery Queene

Perdy (ſaid Trompart) lett her pas at will,
Leaſt by her preſence daunger mote beſall.
For who can tell (and ſure I ſeare it ill)
But that ſhee is ſome powre celeſtiall:
For whiles ſhe ſpake, her great words did apall
My feeble corage, and my heart oppreſſe,
That yet I quake and tremble ouer all.
And I (ſaid Braggadocchio) thought no leſſe,
When firſt I heard her horn ſoüd with ſuch ghaſtlinesſe.

For from my mothers wombe this grace I haue
Me giuen by eternall deſtiny,
That earthly thing may not my corage braue
Diſmay with ſeare, or cauſe on ſoote to flye,
But either helliſh ſeends, or powres on hye:
Which was the cauſe, when eart that horne I heard,
Weening it had beene thunder in the skye,
I hid my ſelfe from it, as one affeard;
But when I other knew, my ſelfe I boldly reard.

But now for ſeare of worſe, that may betide,
Let vs ſoone hence depart. They ſoone agree;
So to his ſteed he gott, and gan to ride,
As one vnſitt therefore, that all might ſee
He had not trayned bene in cheualree.
Which well that valiaunt courſer did diſcerne;
For he deſpſid to tread in dew degree,
But chaufd and fom'd, with corage ſiers and ſterne,
And to be eafe of that bafe burden ſtill did erne.

Cant.

The second Book of Cant. II. II.

232

Cant. IIII.

Guyon does Furor bind in chaines,
And stops occasion:
Deliuers Phaon, and therefore
By strife is rayld vpon.

In braue pourfuitt of honorable deed,
There is I know not (what) great difference
Betweene the vulgar and the noble feed,
Which vnto things of valorours pretence
Seemes to be borne by natüe influence;
As feates of armes, and loue to entertaine,
But chiefly skill to ride seemes a science
Proper to gentle blood; some others faine
To menage fteeds, as did this vaunter; but in vaine.

But he the rightfull owner of that fteede,
Who well could menage and subdew his pride,
The whiles on foot was forced for to yeed,
With that blacke Palmer, his moft trufty guide;
Who suffred not his wandring feete to slide.
But when strong passion or weake fteeshlineffe,
Would from the right way feeke to draw him wide,
He would through temperaunce and ftedfaftneffe,
Teach him the weak to ftreğthen, & the ftrög fuppresse.

It fortuned forth faring on his way,
He saw from far, or seemed for to fee
Some troublous vprore or contentious fray,
Whereto he drew in haft it to agree.

A mad

Cant. IIII. the Faëry Queene. 233

A mad man, or that feigned mad to bee,
Drew by the heare along vpon the grownd,
A handom stripling with great crueltee,
Whom fore he bett, and gor'd with many a wownd,
That cheekes with teares, & fydes with blood did all a-
(bownd.)

And him behynd, a wicked Hag did ſtalke,
In ragged robes, and filthy difaray,
Her other leg was lame, that ſhe no'te walke.
But on a ſtaffe her feeble ſteps did ſtay;
Her lockes, that loathly were and hoarie gray,
Grew all afore, and loosely hong vnrold,
But all behinde was bald, and worne away,
That none thereof could euer taken hold,
And eke her face ill fauourd, full of wrinkles old.

And euer as ſhe went, her toung did walke
In fowle reproch, and termes of vile deſpight,
Prouoking him by her outrageous talke,
To heape more vengeance on that wretched wight,
Somtimes ſhe raught him ſtones, wherwith to ſmite,
Sometimes her ſtaffe, though it her one leg were,
Withouten which ſhe could not goe vpright;
Ne any euill meanes ſhe did forbeare,
That might him moue to wrath, and indignation reare.

The noble Guyon mou'd with great remorſe,
Approching, firſt the Hag did thruft away,
And after adding more impetuous forſe,
His mighty hands did on the madman lay,
And pluckt him backe; who all on fire ſtreight way,
Againſt him turning all his fell intent,
With beaſtly brutiſh rage gan him affay,
And ſmott, and bitt, and kickt, and scratcht, and rent,
And did he wift not what in his auengement.

And

234

And sure he was a man of mickle might,
Had he had gouernaunce, it well to guyde:
But when the frantick fitt inflamd his spight,
His force was vaine, and strooke more often wyde,
Then at the aymed marke, which he had eyde:
And oft himselve he chaunst to hurt vnwares,
Whyleft reaſo blent through paſſio, nought defcryde
But as a blindfold Bull at randon fares, (nought cares,
And where he hits, nought know es, & whom he hurts,

His rude affault and rugged handeling
Straunge seemed to the knight, that aye with foe
In fayre defence and goodly menaging
Of armes was wont to fight, yet nathemoe
Was he abafhed now not fighting so,
But more enfierced through his currith play,
Him ſternly grypt, and hailing to and fro,
To ouerthrow him strongly did affay,
But ouerthrew him ſelfe vnwares, and lower lay.

And being downe the villein fore did beate,
And bruze with clownifh fiftes his manly face:
And eke the Hag with many a bitter threat.
Still cald vpon to kill him in the place.
With whose reproch and odious menace
The knight emboyling in his haughtie hart,
Knitt all his forces, and gan foone vnbrace
His graſping hold: so lightly did vpſtart,
And drew his deadly weapon, to maintaine his part.

Which when the Palmer ſaw, he loudly cryde,
Not so O *Guyon*, neuer thinke that so
That Monſter can be maſtred or deſtroyd:
He is no,ah, he is not ſuch a foe,

As

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Cant. IIII. the Faery Queene.

As ſteele can wound, or ſtrength can ouerthroe.
That fame is *Furor*, curſed cruel wight,
That vnto knighthood workes much ſhame & woe;
And that fame Hag, his aged mother, hight
Occafion, the roote of all wrath and deſpight,

With her, who so will raging *Furor* tame,
Muſt firſt begin, and well her amenage:
Firſt her refraine from her reproch: 'I blame,
And euill meanes, with which ſhe doth enrage
Her frantick ſonne, and kindles his corage,
Then when ſhe is withdrawne, or ſtrong withſtood,
It's eath his ydle fury to aſwage,
And calme the tempeſt of his paſſion wood;
The bankes are ouerflowne, when ſtopped is the flood.

Therewith Sir *Guyon* left his firſt emprife,
And turning to that woman, ſaſt her hent
By the hoare lockes, that hong before her eyes,
And to the ground her threw: yet n'ould ſhe ſtent
Her bitter rayling and foule reuilement,
But ſtill prouokt her ſonne to wreake her wrongs;
But natheleſſe he did her ſtill torment,
And catching hold of her vngratious tongue,
Thereon an yron lock, did ſaſten firme and ſtrong.

Then whenas vſe of ſpeach was from her reſt,
With her two crooked handes ſhe ſignes did make,
And beckned him, the laſt help ſhe had left:
But he that laſt left helpe away did take,
And both her handes ſaſt bound vnto a ſtake,
That ſhe note ſtirre. Then gan her ſonne to ſlye
Full ſaſt away, and did her quite forſake;
But *Guyon* after him in haſt did hye;
And ſoone him *ouertooke* in ſad perplexitye.

In