The Penguin Book of Dragons

by The Penguin Book of Dragons (retail) (epub)

  As chauffed Bore his bristles doth upreare;

  And shoke his scales to battaile ready drest,

  That made the Redcrosse knight nigh quake for feare,

  As bidding bold defyaunce to his foeman neare.

  Redcrosse Strikes a Glancing Blow; the Dragon Knocks Him Down

  The knight gan fayrely couch his steady speare,

  And fiersely ran at him with rigorous might:

  The pointed steele, arriving rudely theare,

  His harder hyde would nether perce nor bight,

  But, glauncing by, foorth passed forward right.

  Yet sore amoved with so puissaunt push,

  The wrathfull beast about him turned light,

  And him so rudely, passing by, did brush

  With his long tayle, that horse and man to ground did rush.

  Redcrosse Recovers and Strikes Again without Success; the Dragon Grows Angry

  Both horse and man up 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 avenged of so great despight;

  For never felt his imperceable brest

  So wondrous force from hand of living wight;

  Yet had he prov’d the powre of many a puissant knight.

  The Dragon Takes Flight, Snatching Up Redcrosse and His Horse

  Then, with his waving wings displayed wyde,

  Himselfe up high he lifted from the ground,

  And with strong flight did forcibly divyde

  The yielding ayre, which nigh too feeble found

  Her flitting parts, and element unsound,

  To beare so great a weight: he, cutting way

  With his broad sayles, about him soared round;

  At last, low stouping with unweldy sway,

  Snatcht up both horse and man, to beare them quite away.

  The Dragon Releases Redcrosse and His Horse

  Long he them bore above the subject plaine,

  So far as Ewghen bow a shaft may send,8

  Till struggling strong did him at last constraine,

  To let them downe before his flightes end:

  As haggard hauke, presuming to contend

  With hardy fowle above his hable might,

  His wearie pounces all in vaine doth spend

  To trusse the pray too heavy for his flight;

  Which, comming downe to ground, does free it selfe by fight.

  Redcrosse Wounds the Dragon with a Mighty Thrust of His Spear

  He so disseized of his gryping grosse,

  The knight his thrillant speare againe assayd

  In his bras-plated body to embosse,

  And three mens strength unto the stroake he layd;

  Wherewith the stiffe beame quaked as affrayd,

  And glauncing from his scaly necke did glyde

  Close under his left wing, then broad displayd:

  The percing steele there wrought a wound full wyde,

  That with the uncouth smart the Monster lowdly cryde.

  The Dragon Roars in Pain

  He cryde, as raging seas are wont to rore

  When wintry storme his wrathful wreck does threat;

  The rolling billowes beate the ragged shore,

  As they the earth would shoulder from her seat;

  And greedy gulfe does gape, as he would eat

  His neighbour element in his revenge:

  Then gin the blustring brethren boldly threat

  To move the world from off his stedfast henge,

  And boystrous battaile make, each other to avenge.

  The Dragon Bleeds Profusely and Breathes Fire

  The steely head stuck fast still in his flesh,

  Till with his cruell clawes he snatcht the wood,

  And quite a sunder broke. Forth flowed fresh

  A gushing river of blacke gory blood,

  That drowned all the land whereon he stood;

  The streame thereof would drive a water-mill:

  Trebly augmented was his furious mood

  With bitter sence of his deepe rooted ill,

  That flames of fire he threw forth from his large nosethril.

  The Dragon Snares the Horse with Its Tail, Causing Redcrosse to Fall

  His hideous tayle then hurled he about,

  And therewith all enwrapt the nimble thyes

  Of his froth-fomy steed, whose courage stout

  Striving to loose the knott that fast him tyes,

  Himselfe in streighter bandes too rash implyes,

  That to the ground he is perforce constraynd

  To throw his ryder; who can quickly ryse

  From off the earth, with durty bloud distaynd,

  For that reprochfull fall right fowly he disdaynd;

  Redcrosse Strikes the Dragon with His Sword, but the Blow Recoils

  And fercely tooke his trenchand blade in hand,

  With which he stroke so furious and so fell,

  That nothing seemd the puissaunce could withstand:

  Upon 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.

  Redcrosse Smites Again

  The knight was wroth to see his stroke beguyld,

  And smote againe with more outrageous might;

  But backe againe the sparcling steele recoyld,

  And left not any marke, where it did light,

  As if in Adamant rocke it had beene pight.

  The beast, impatient of his smarting wound

  And of so fierce and forcible despight,

  Thought with his winges to stye above the ground;

  But his late wounded wing unserviceable found.

  The Dragon Engulfs Redcrosse in Flames

  Then full of griefe and anguish vehement,

  He lowdly brayd, that like was never heard;

  And from his wide devouring oven sent

  A flake of fire, that flashing in his beard,

  Him all amazd, and almost made afeard:

  The scorching flame sore swinged all his face,

  And through his armour all his bodie seard,

  That he could not endure so cruell cace,

  But thought his armes to leave, and helmet to unlace.

  Redcrosse’s Struggles Surpass the Labors of Hercules9

  Not that great Champion of the antique world,

  Whom famous Poetes verse so much doth vaunt,

  And hath for twelve huge labours high extold,

  So many furies and sharpe fits did haunt,

  When him the poysoned garment did enchaunt

  With Centaures blood, and bloody verses charmd;

  As did this knight twelve thousand dolours daunt,

  Whom fyrie steele now burnt, that earst him arm’d;

  That erst him goodly arm’d, now most of all him harm’d.

  Weary from the Battle, Redcrosse Falls

  Faint, wearie, sore, emboyled, grieved, brent,

  With heat, toyle, wounds, armes, smart, and inward fire,

  That never man such mischiefes did torment:

  Death better were; death did he oft desire,

  But death will never come when n
eedes require.

  Whom so dismayd when that his foe beheld,

  He cast to suffer him no more respire,

  But gan his sturdie sterne about to weld,

  And him so strongly stroke, that to the ground him feld.

  Redcrosse Topples into the Well of Life

  It fortuned, (as faire it then befell)

  Behynd his backe, unweeting, where he stood,

  Of auncient time there was a springing well,

  From which fast trickled forth a silver 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 waves, it rightly hot

  The well of life, ne yet his vertues had forgot:

  The Miraculous Healing Properties of the Well of Life

  For unto life the dead it could restore,

  And guilt of sinfull crimes cleane wash away;

  Those that with sicknesse were infected sore

  It could recure; and aged long decay

  Renew, as one were borne that very day.

  Both Silo this, and Jordan, did excel,

  And th’English Bath, and eke the German Spau;

  Ne can Cephise, nor Hebrus, match this well:10

  Into the same knight back overthrowen fell.

  Night Falls; the Dragon Seems to Have Won the Battle

  Now gan the golden Phoebus for to steepe

  His fierie face in billowes of the west,

  And his faint steedes watred in Ocean deepe,

  Whiles from their journall labours they did rest;11

  When that infernall Monster, having kest

  His wearie foe into that living well,

  Can high advance his broad discoloured brest

  Above his wonted pitch, with countenance fell,

  And clapt his yron wings as victor he did dwell.

  Una Prays All Night for Her Knight

  Which when his pensive Lady saw from farre,

  Great woe and sorrow did her soule assay,

  As weening that the sad end of the warre;

  And gan to highest God entirely pray

  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 Second Day of the Battle Dawns

  The morrow next gan early to appeare,

  That Titan rose to runne his daily race;12

  But earely, ere the morrow next gan reare

  Out of the sea faire Titans deawy face,

  Up rose the gentle virgin from her place,

  And looked all about, if she might spy

  Her loved knight to move his manly pace:

  For she had great doubt of his safety,

  Since late she saw him fall before his enimy.

  Redcrosse Rises from the Well Refreshed

  At last she saw where he upstarted brave

  Out of the well, wherein he drenched lay:

  As Eagle, fresh out of the ocean wave,

  Where he hath lefte his plumes all hory grey,

  And deckt himselfe with fethers youthly gay,

  Like Eyas hauke up mounts unto the skies,

  His newly-budded pineons to assay,

  And marveiles at himselfe stil as he flies:13

  So new this new-borne knight to battell new did rise.

  Redcrosse Strikes the Dragon on the Head

  Whom when the damned feend so fresh did spy,

  No wonder if he wondred at the sight,

  And doubted whether his late enimy

  It were, or other new supplied knight.

  He now, to prove his late-renewed might,

  High brandishing his bright deaw-burning blade,

  Upon his crested scalp so sore did smite,

  That to the scull a yawning wound it made:

  The deadly dint his dulled senses all dismaid.

  The Well of Life Has Given Redcrosse New Strength

  I wote not whether the revenging steele

  Were hardned with that holy water dew

  Wherein he fell, or sharper edge did feele,

  Or his baptized hands now greater grew,

  Or other secret vertue did ensew;

  Else never could the force of fleshly arme,

  Ne molten mettall, in his bloud embrew;

  For till that stownd could never wight him harme,

  By subtilty, nor slight, nor might, nor mighty charme.

  The Wounded Dragon Roars and Rears

  The cruell wound enraged him so sore,

  That loud he yelled for exceeding paine;

  As hundred ramping Lions seemd to rore,

  Whom ravenous hunger did thereto constraine:

  Then gan he tosse aloft his stretched traine,

  And therewith scourge the buxome aire so sore,

  That to his force to yielden it was faine;

  Ne ought his sturdy strokes might stand afore,

  That high trees overthrew, and rocks in peeces tore.

  The Dragon Impales Redcrosse with Its Sharp Tail

  The same advauncing high above his head,

  With sharpe intended sting so rude him smott,

  That to the earth him drove, as stricken dead;

  Ne living wight would have him life behott:

  The mortall sting his angry needle shott

  Quite through his shield, and in his shoulder seasd,

  Where fast it stucke, ne would thereout be gott:

  The griefe thereof him wondrous sore diseasd,

  Ne might his rancling paine with patience be appeasd.

  Redcrosse Hews the Dragon’s Tail

  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 strove to loose the far infixed sting:

  Which when in vaine he tryde with struggeling,

  Inflam’d with wrath, his raging blade he hefte,

  And strooke so strongly, that the knotty string

  Of his huge taile he quite a sonder clefte;

  Five joynts thereof he hewd, and but the stump him lefte.

  The Dragon Attacks Again

  Hart cannot thinke what outrage and what cries,

  With fowle enfouldred smoake and flashing fire,

  The hell-bred beast threw forth unto the skyes,

  That all was covered with darknesse dire:

  Then, fraught with rancour and engorged ire,

  He cast at once him to avenge for all;

  And, gathering up himselfe out of the mire,

  With his uneven wings, did fiercely fall,

  Upon his sunne-bright shield, and grypt it fast withall.

  Redcrosse Struggles to Release the Dragon’s Grip on His Shield

  Much was the man encombred with his hold,

  In feare to lose his weapon in his paw,

  Ne wist yett how his talaunts to unfold;

  Nor harder was from Cerberus greedy jaw

  To plucke a bone, then from his cruell claw

  To reave by strength the griped gage away:14

  Thrise he assayd it from his foote to draw,

  And thrise in vaine to draw it did assay;

  It booted nought to thinke to robbe him of his pray.

&
nbsp; Redcrosse Forces the Dragon to Release One Paw

  Tho, when he saw no power might prevaile,

  His trusty sword he cald to his last aid,

  Wherewith he fiersly did his foe assaile,

  And double blowes about him stoutly laid,

  That glauncing fire out of the yron plaid,

  As sparkles from the Andvile used to fly,

  When heavy hammers on the wedge are swaid:

  Therewith at last he forst him to unty

  One of his grasping feete, him to defend thereby.

  Redcrosse Severs the Dragon’s Other Paw

  The other foot, fast fixed on his shield,

  Whenas no strength nor stroks mote him constraine

  To loose, ne yet the warlike pledge to yield,

  He smott thereat with all his might and maine,

  That nought so wondrous puissance might sustaine;

  Upon the joint the lucky steele did light,

  And made such way that hewd it quite in twaine;

  The paw yet missed not his minisht might,

  But hong still on the shield, as it at first was pight.

  The Dragon Spits Fire

  For griefe thereof and divelish despight,

  From his infernall fournace forth he threw

  Huge flames that dimmed all the hevens light,

  Enrold in duskish 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 all the land with stench and heven with horror choke.15

  Redcrosse Retreats from the Fire and Falls

  The heate whereof, and harmefull pestilence,

  So sore him noyd, that forst him to retire

  A little backward for his best defence,

  To save his body from the scorching fire,

  Which he from hellish entrailes did expire.

  It chaunst, (eternall God that chaunce did guide)

  As he recoiled backward, in the mire

  His nigh forewearied feeble feet did slide,

  And downe he fell, with dread of shame sore terrifide.

  Redcrosse Lands at the Foot of the Tree of Life

  There grew a goodly tree him aire beside,

  Loaden with fruit and apples rosie redd,

  As they in pure vermilion had beene dide,

  Whereof great vertues over-all were redd;

  For happy life to all, which thereon fedd,

  And life eke everlasting did befall:

  Great God it planted in that blessed stedd

  With his Almighty hand, and did it call