The Faerie Queene

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by Edmund Spenser


  That it shall make him shake, and shortly learne to fall.

  50 But yet the end is not. There Merlin stayd,

  As ouercomen of the spirites powre,

  Or other ghastly spectacle dismayd,

  That secretly he saw, yet note discoure:

  Which suddein fit, and halfe extatick stoure

  When the two fearefull women saw, they grew

  Greatly confused in behauioure;

  At last the fury past, to former hew

  Hee turnd againe, and chearefull looks as earst did shew.

  51 Then, when them selues they well instructed had

  Of all, that needed them to be inquird,

  They both concerning hope of comfort glad,

  With lighter hearts vnto their home retird;

  Where they in secret counsell close conspird,

  How to effect so hard an enterprize,

  And to possesse the purpose they desird:

  Now this, now that twixt them they did deuise,

  And diuerse plots did frame, to maske in strange disguise.

  52 At last the Nourse in her foolhardy wit

  Conceiu’d a bold deuise, and thus bespake;

  Daughter, I deeme that counsell aye most fit,

  That of the time doth dew aduauntage take;

  Ye see that good king Vther now doth make

  Strong warre vpon the Paynim brethren, hight

  Octa and Oza, whom he lately brake

  Beside Cayr Verolame, in victorious fight,

  That now all Britanie doth burne in armes bright.

  53 That therefore nought our passage may empeach,

  Let vs in feigned armes our selues disguize,

  And our weake hands (whom need new strength shall teach)

  The dreadfull speare and shield to exercize:

  Ne certes daughter that same warlike wize

  I weene, would you misseeme; for ye bene tall,

  And large of limbe, t’atchieue an hard emprize,

  Ne ought ye want, but skill, which practize small

  Will bring, and shortly make you a mayd Martiall.

  54 And sooth, it ought your courage much inflame,

  To heare so often, in that royall hous,

  From whence to none inferiour ye came:

  Bards tell of many women valorous

  Which haue full many feats aduenturous

  Performd, in paragone of proudest men:

  The bold Bunduca, whose victorious

  Exploits made Rome to quake, stout Guendolen,

  Renowmed Martia, and redoubted Emmilen.

  55 And that, which more then all the rest may sway,

  Late dayes ensample, which these eyes beheld,

  In the last field before Meneuia

  Which Vther with those forrein Pagans held,

  I saw a Saxon Virgin, the which feld

  Great Vlfin thrise vpon the bloudy plaine,

  And had not Carados her hand withheld

  From rash reuenge, she had him surely slaine,

  Yet Carados himselfe from her escapt with paine.

  56 Ah read, (quoth Britomart) how is she hight?

  Faire Angela (quoth she) men do her call,

  No whit lesse faire, then terrible in fight:

  She hath the leading of a Martiall

  And mighty people, dreaded more then all

  The other Saxons, which do for her sake

  And loue, themselues of her name Angles call.

  Therefore faire Infant her ensample make

  Vnto thyselfe, and equall courage to thee take.

  57 Her harry words so deepe into the mynd

  Of the young Damzell sunke, that great desire

  Of warlike armes in her forthwith they tynd,

  And generous stout courage did inspire,

  That she resolu’d, vnweeting to her Sire,

  Aduent’rous knighthood on her selfe to don,

  And counseld with her Nourse, her Maides attire

  To turne into a massy habergeon,

  And bad her all things put in readinesse anon.

  58 Th’old woman nought, that needed, did omit;

  But all things did conueniently puruay:

  It fortuned (so time their turne did fit)

  A band of Britons ryding on forray

  Few dayes before, had gotten a great pray

  Of Saxon goods, emongst the which was seene

  A goodly Armour, and full rich aray,

  Which long’d to Angela, the Saxon Queene,

  All fretted round with gold, and goodly well beseene.

  59 The same, with all the other ornaments,

  King Ryence caused to be hanged hy

  In his chiefe Church, for endlesse moniments

  Of his successe and gladfull victory:

  Of which her selfe auising readily,

  In th’euening late old Glaucee thither led

  Faire Britomart, and that same Armory

  Downe taking, her therein appareled,

  Well as she might, and with braue bauldrick garnished.

  60 Beside those armes there stood a mighty speare,

  Which Bladud made by Magick art of yore,

  And vsd the same in battell aye to beare;

  Sith which it had bin here preseru’d in store,

  For his great vertues proued long afore:

  For neuer wight so fast in sell could sit,

  But him perforce vnto the ground it bore:

  Both speare she tooke, and shield, which hong by it:

  Both speare & shield of great powre, for her purpose fit.

  61 Thus when she had the virgin all arayd,

  Another harnesse, which did hang thereby,

  About her selfe she dight, that the young Mayd

  She might in equall armes accompany,

  And as her Squire attend her carefully:

  Tho to their ready Steeds they clombe full light,

  And through back wayes, that none might them espy,

  Couered with secret cloud of silent night,

  Themselues they forth conuayd, & passed forward right

  62 Ne rested they, till that to Faery lond

  They came, as Merlin them directed late:

  Where meeting with this Redcrosse knight, she fond

  Of diuerse things discourses to dilate,

  But most of Arihegall, and his estate.

  At last their wayes so fell, that they mote part:

  Then each to other well, affectionate,

  Friendship professed with vnfained hart,

  The Redcrosse knight diuerst, but forth rode Britomart.

  CANTO IV

  Bold Marinell of Britomart,

  Is throwne on the Rich strond:

  Faire Florimell of Arthur is

  Long followed, but not fond.

  1 Where is the Antique glory now become,

  That whilome wont in women to appeare?

  Where be the braue atchieuements doen by some?

  Where be the battels, where the shield and speare,

  And all the conquests, which them high did reare,

  That matter made for famous Poets verse,

  And boastfull men so oft abasht to heare?

  Bene they all dead, and laid in dolefull herse?

  Or doen they onely sleepe, and shall againe reuerse?

  2 If they be dead, then woe is me therefore:

  But if they sleepe, ô let them soone awake:

  For all too long I burne with enuy sore,

  To heare the warlike feates, which Homere spake

  Of bold Penthesilee, which made a lake

  Of Greekish bloud so oft in Troian plaine;

  But when I read, how stout Debora strake

  Proud Sisera, and how Camill’ hath slaine

  The huge Orsilochus, I swell with great disdaine.

  3 Yet these, and all that else had puissaunce,

  Cannot with noble Britomart compare,

  Aswell for glory of great valiaunce,

  As for
pure chastitie and vertue rare,

  That all her goodly deeds do well declare.

  Well worthy stock, from which the branches sprong,

  That in late yeares so faire a blossome bare,

  As thee, ô Queene, the matter of my song,

  Whose lignage from this Lady I deriue along.

  4 Who when through speaches with the Redcrosse knight,

  She learned had th’estate of Arthegall,

  And in each point her selfe informd aright,

  A friendly league of loue perpetuall

  She with him bound, and Congé tooke withall.

  Then he forth on his iourney did proceede,

  To seeke aduentures, which mote him befall,

  And win him worship through his warlike deed,

  Which alwayes of his paines he made the chiefest meed.

  5 But Britomart kept on her former course,

  Ne euer dofte her armes, but all the way

  Grew pensiue through that amorous discourse,

  By which the Redcrosse knight did earst display

  Her louers shape, and cheualrous aray;

  A thousand thoughts she fashioned in her mind,

  And in her feigning fancie did pourtray

  Him such, as fittest she for loue could find,

  Wise, warlike, personable, curteous, and kind.

  6 With such selfe-pleasing thoughts her wound she fed,

  And thought so to beguile her grieuous smart;

  But so her smart was much more grieuous bred,

  And the deepe wound more deepe engord her hart,

  That nought but death her dolour mote depart.

  So forth she rode without repose or rest,

  Searching all lands and each remotest part,

  Following the guidaunce of her blinded guest,

  Till that to the sea-coast at length she her addrest.

  7 There she alighted from her light-foot beast,

  And sitting downe vpon the rocky shore,

  Bad her old Squire vnlace her lofty creast;

  Tho hauing vewd a while the surges hore,

  That gainst the craggy clifts did loudly rore,

  And in their raging surquedry disdaynd,

  That the fast earth affronted them so sore,

  And their deuouring couetize restraynd,

  Thereat she sighed deepe, and after thus complaynd.

  8 Huge sea of sorrow, and tempestuous griefe,

  Wherein my feeble barke is tossed long,

  Far from the hoped hauen of reliefe,

  Why do thy cruell billowes beat so strong,

  And thy moyst mountaines each on others throng,

  Threatning to swallow vp my fearefull life?

  O do thy cruell wrath and spightfull wrong

  At length allay, and stint thy stormy strife,

  Which in these troubled bowels raignes, & rageth rife.

  9 For else my feeble vessell crazd, and crackt

  Through thy strong buffets and outrageous blowes,

  Cannot endure, but needs it must be wrackt

  On the rough rocks, or on the sandy shallowes,

  The whiles that loue it steres, and fortune rowes;

  Loue my lewd Pilot hath a restlesse mind

  And fortune Boteswaine no assuraunce knowes,

  But saile withouten starres, gainst tide and wind:

  How can they other do, sith both are bold and blind?

  10 Thou God of winds, that raignest in the seas,

  That raignest also in the Continent,

  At last blow vp some gentle gale of ease,

  The which may bring my ship, ere it be rent,

  Vnto the gladsome port of her intent:

  Then when I shall my selfe in safety see,

  A table for eternall moniment

  Of thy great grace, and my great ieopardee,

  Great Neptune, I auow to hallow vnto thee.

  11 Then sighing softly sore, and inly deepe,

  She shut vp all her plaint in priuy griefe;

  For her great courage would not let her weepe,

  Till that old Glauce gan with sharpe repriefe,

  Her to restraine, and giue her good reliefe,

  Through hope of those, which Merlin had her told

  Should of her name and nation be chiefe,

  And fetch their being from the sacred mould

  Of her immortall wombe, to be in heauen enrold.

  12 Thus as she her recomforted, she spyde,

  Where farre away one all in armour bright,

  With hastie gallop towards her did ryde;

  Her dolour soone she ceast, and on her dight

  Her Helmet, to her Courser mounting light:

  Her former sorrow into suddein wrath,

  Both coosen passions of distroubled spright,

  Conuerting, forth she beates the dustie path;

  Loue and despight attonce her courage kindled hath.

  13 As when a foggy mist hath ouercast

  The face of heauen, and the cleare aire engrost,

  The world in darkenesse dwels, till that at last

  The watry Southwinde from the seabord cost

  Vpblowing, doth disperse the vapour lo’st,

  And poures it selfe forth in a stormy showre;

  So the faire Britomart hauing disclo’st

  Her dowdy care into a wrathfull stowre,

  The mist of griefe dissolu’d, did into vengeance powre.

  14 Eftsoones her goodly shield addressing faire,

  That mortall speare she in her hand did take,

  And vnto battell did her selfe prepaire.

  The knight approching, sternely her bespake;

  Sir knight, that doest thy voyage rashly make

  By this forbidden way in my despight,

  Ne doest by others death ensample take,

  I read thee soone retyre, whiles thou hast might,

  Least afterwards it be too late to take thy flight.

  15 Ythrild with deepe disdaine of his proud threat,

  She shortly thus; Fly they, that need to fly;

  Words fearen babes. I meane not thee entreat

  To passe; but maugre thee will passe or dy.

  Ne lenger stayd for th’other to reply,

  But with sharpe speare the rest made dearly knowne.

  Strongly the straunge knight ran, and sturdily

  Strooke her full on the brest, that made her downe

  Decline her head, & touch her crouper with her crowne.

  16 But she againe him in the shield did smite

  With so fierce furie and great puissaunce,

  That through his threesquare scuchin percing quite,

  And through his mayled hauberque by mischaunce

  The wicked steele through his left side did glaunce;

  Him so transfixed she before her bore

  Beyond his croupe, the length of all her launce,

  Till sadly soucing on the sandie shore,

  He tombled on an heape, and wallowd in his gore.

  17 Like as the sacred Oxe, that carelesse stands,

  With gilden hornes, and flowry girlonds crownd,

  Proud of his dying honor and deare bands,

  Whiles th’altars fume with frankincense arownd,

  All suddenly with mortall stroke astownd,

  Doth groueling fall, and with his streaming gore

  Distaines the pillours, and the holy grownd,

  And the fire flowres, that decked him afore;

  So fell proud Marinell vpon the pretious shore.

  18 The martiall Mayd stayd not him to lament,

  But forward rode, and kept her readie way

  Along the strond, which as she ouer-went,

  She saw bestrowed all with rich aray

  Of pearles and pretious stones of great assay,

  And all the grauell mixt with golden owre;

  Whereat she wondred much, but would not stay

  For gold, or perles, or pretious stones an howre,

  But
them despised all; for all was in her powre.

  19 Whiles thus he lay in deadly stonishment,

  Tydings hereof came to his mothers eare;

  His mother was the blacke-browd Cymoent,

  The daughter of great Nereus, which did beare

  This warlike sonne vnto an earthly peare,

  The famous Dumarin; who on a day

  Finding the Nymph asleepe in secret wheare,

  As he by chaunce did wander that same way,

  Was taken with her loue, and by her closely lay.

  20 There he this knight of her begot, whom borne

  She of his father Marinell did name,

  And in a rocky caue as wight forlorne,

  Long time she fostred vp, till he became

  A mightie man at armes, and mickle fame

  Did get through great aduentures by him donne:

  For neuer man he suffred by that same

  Rich strond to trauell, whereas he did wonne,

  But that he must do battell with the Sea-nymphes sonne.

  21 An hundred knights of honorable name

  He had subdew’d, and them his vassals made,

  That through all Farie lond his noble fame

  Now blazed was, and feare did all inuade,

  That none durst passen through that perilous glade.

  And to aduance his name and glorie more,

  Her Sea-god syre she dearely did perswade,

  T’endow her sonne with threasure and rich store,

  Boue all the sonnes, that were of earthly wombes ybore.

  22 The God did graunt his daughters deare demaund,

  To doen his Nephew in all riches flow;

  Eftsoones his heaped waues he did commaund,

  Out of their hollow bosome forth to throw

  All the huge threasure, which the sea below

  Had in his greedie gulfe deuoured deepe,

  And him enriched through the ouerthrow

  And wreckes of many wretches, which did weepe,

  And often waile their wealth, which he from them did keepe.

  23 Shortly vpon that shore there heaped was,

  Exceeding riches and all pretious things,

  The spoyle of all the world, that it did pas

  The wealth of th’East, and pompe of Persian kings;

  Gold, amber, yuorie, perles, owches, rings,

  And all that else was pretious and deare,

  The sea vnto him voluntary brings,

  That shortly he a great Lord did appeare,

  As was in all the lond of Faery, or elsewheare,

  24 Thereto he was a doughtie dreaded knight,

  Tryde often to the scath of many deare,

  That none in equall armes him matchen might,

  The which his mother seeing, gan to feare

  Least his too haughtie hardines might reare

  Some hard mishap, in hazard of his life:

 

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