The Faerie Queene

by Edmund Spenser

  That to the ground him meekely made to bowe,

  And awfull terror deepe into him strooke,

  That euery member of his bodie quooke.

  Said he, thou man of nought, what doest thou here,

  Vnfitly furnisht with thy bag and booke,

  Where I expected one with shield and spere,

  To proue some deedes of armes vpon an equall pere.

  25 The wretched man at his imperious speach,

  Was all abasht, and low prostrating, said;

  Good Sir, let not my rudenesse be no breach

  Vnto your patience, ne be ill ypaid;

  For I vnwares this way by fortune straid,

  A silly Pilgrim driuen to distresse,

  That seeke a Lady, There he suddein staid,

  And did the rest with grieuous sighes suppresse,

  While teares stood in his eies, few drops of bitternesse.

  26 What Ladie, man? (said Trompart) take good hart,

  And tell thy griefe, if any hidden lye;

  Was neuer better time to shew thy smart,

  Then now, that noble succour is thee by,

  That is the whole worlds commune remedy.

  That chearefull word his weake hart much did cheare,

  And with vaine hope his spirits faint supply,

  That bold he said; ô most redoubted Pere,

  Vouchsafe with mild regard a wretches cace to heare.

  27 Then sighing sore, It is not long (said hee)

  Sith I enioyd the gentlest Dame aliue;

  Of whom a knight, no knight at all perdee,

  But shame of all, that doe for honor striue,

  By treacherous deceipt did me depriue;

  Through open outrage he her bore away,

  And with fowle force vnto his will did driue,

  Which all good knights, that armes do beare this day,

  Are bound for to reuenge, and punish if they may.

  28 And you most noble Lord, that can and dare

  Redresse the wrong of miserable wight,

  Cannot employ your most victorious speare

  In better quarrell, then defence of right,

  And for a Ladie gainst a faithlesse knight;

  So shall your glory be aduaunced much,

  And all faire Ladies magnifie your might,

  And eke my selfe, albe I simple such,

  Your worthy paine shall well reward with guerdon rich.

  29 With that out of his bouget forth he drew

  Great store of treasure, therewith him to tempt;

  But he on it lookt scornefully askew,

  As much disdeigning to be so misdempt,

  Or a war-monger to be basely nempt;

  And said; thy offers base I greatly loth,

  And eke thy words vncourteous and vnkempt;

  I tread in dust thee and thy money both,

  That, were it not for shame, So turned firom him wroth.

  30 But Trompart, that his maisters humor knew,

  In lofty lookes to hide an humble mind,

  Was inly tickled with that golden vew,

  And in his eare him rownded close behind:

  Yet stoupt he not, but lay still in the wind,

  Waiting aduauntage on die pray to sease;

  Till Trompart lowly to the ground inclind,

  Besought him his great courage to appease,

  And pardon simple man, that rash did him displease.

  31 Bigge looking like a doughtie Doucepere,

  At last he thus; Thou clod of vilest clay,

  I pardon yield, and with thy rudenesse beare;

  But weete henceforth, that all that golden pray,

  And all that else the vaine world vaunten may,

  I loath as doung, ne deeme my dew reward:

  Fame is my meed, and glory vertues pray.

  But minds of mortall men are muchell mard,

  And mou’d amisse with massie mucks vnmeet regard.

  32 And more, I graunt to thy great miserie

  Gratious respect, thy wife shall backe be sent,

  And that vile knight, who euer that he bee,

  Which hath thy Lady reft, and knighthood shent,

  By Sanglamort my sword, whose deadly dent

  The bloud hath of so many thousands shed,

  I sweare, ere long shall dearely it repent;

  Ne he twixt heauen and earth shall hide Ms hed,

  But soone he shall be found, and shortly doen be ded.

  33 The foolish man thereat woxe wondrous blith,

  As if the word so spoken, were halfe donne,

  And humbly thanked him a thousand sith,

  That had from death to life him newly wonne.

  Tho forth the Boaster marching, braue begonne

  His stolen steed to thunder furiously,

  As if he heauen and hell would ouerronne,

  And all the world confound with cruelty,

  That much Malbecco ioyed in his iollity.

  34 Thus long they three together traueiled,

  Through many a wood, and many an vncouth way,

  To seeke his wife, that was farre wandered:

  But those two sought nought, but the present pray,

  To weete the treasure, which he did bewray,

  On which their eies and harts were wholly set,

  With purpose, how they might it best betray;

  For sith the houre, that first he did them let

  The same behold, therewith their keene desires were whet.

  35 It fortuned as they together far’d,

  They spide, where Paridell came pricking fast

  Vpon the plaine, the which himselfe prepar’d

  To giust with that braue straunger knight a cast,

  As on aduenture by the way he past:

  Alone he rode without his Paragone;

  For hauing filcht her bels, her vp he cast

  To the wide world, and let her fly alone,

  He nould be clogd. So had he serued many one.

  36 The gentle Lady, loose at randon left,

  The greene-wood long did walke, and wander wide

  At wilde aduenture, like a forlorne weft,

  Till on a day the Satyres her espide

  Straying alone withouten groome or guide;

  Her vp they tooke, and with them home her led,

  With them as housewife euer to abide,

  To milke their gotes, and make them cheese and bred,

  And’ euery one as commune good her handeled.

  37 That shortly she Malbecco has forgot,

  And eke Sir Paridell, all were he deare;

  Who from her went to seeke another lot,

  And now by fortune was arriued here,

  Where those two guilers with Malbecco were:

  Soone as the oldman saw Sir Paridell,

  He fainted, and was almost dead with feare,

  Ne word he had to speake, his griefe to tell,

  But to him louted low, and greeted goodly well.

  38 And after asked him for Hellenore,

  I take no keepe of her (said Paridell)

  She wonneth in the forrest there before.

  So forth he rode, as his aduenture fell;

  The whiles the Boaster from his loftie sell

  Faynd to alight, something amisse to mend;

  But the fresh Swayne would not his leasure dwell,

  But went his way; whom when he passed kend.

  He vp remounted light, and after faind to wend.

  39 Perdy nay (said Malbecco) shall ye not:

  But let him passe as lightly, as he came:

  For litle good of him is to be got,

  And mickle perill to be put to shame.

  But let vs go to seeke my dearest Dame,

  Whom he hath left in yonder forrest wyld:

  For of her safety in great doubt I am,

  Least saluage beastes her person haue despoyld:

  Then all the world is lost, and we in vaine haue toyld.

  40 They all agree, and
forward them addrest:

  Ah but (said craftie Trompart) weete ye well,

  That yonder in that wastefull wilderncsse

  Huge monsters haunt, and many dangers dwell;

  Dragons, and Minotaures, and feendes of hell,

  And many wilde woodmen, which robbe and rend

  All trauellers; therefore aduise ye well,

  Before ye enterprise that way to wend:

  One may his iourney bring too soone to euill end.

  41 Malbecco stopt in great astonishment,

  And with pale eyes fast fixed on the rest,

  Their counsell crau’d, in daunger imminent.

  Said Trompart, you that are the most opprest

  With burden of great treasure, I thinke best

  Here for to stay in safetie behind;

  My Lord and I will search the wide forrest.

  That counsell pleased not Malbeccoes mind;

  For he was much affraid, himselfe alone to find.

  42 Then’ is it best (said he) that ye doe leaue

  Your treasure here in some securitie,

  Either fast closed in some hollow greaue,

  Or buried in the ground from ieopardie,

  Till we returne againe in safetie:

  As for vs two, least doubt of vs ye haue,

  Hence farre away we will blindfolded lie,

  Ne priuie be vnto your treasures graue.

  It pleased: so he did. Then they march forward braue.

  43 Now when amid the thickest woods they were,

  They heard a noyse of many bagpipes shrill,

  And shrieking Hububs them approching nere,

  Which all the forrest did with horror fill:

  That dreadfull sound the boasters hart did thrill,

  With such amazement, that in haste he fled,

  Ne euer looked backe for good or ill,

  And after him eke fearefull Trompart sped;

  The old man could not fly, but fell to ground halfe ded.

  44 Yet afterwards close creeping, as he might,

  He in a bush did hide his fearefull hed,

  The iolly Satyres full of fresh delight,

  Came dauncing forth, and with them nimbly led

  Faire Helenore, with girlonds all bespred,

  Whom their May-lady they had newly made:

  She proud of that new honour, which they red,

  And of their louely fellowship full glade,

  Daunst liuely, and her face did with a Lawrell shade.

  45 The silly man that in the thicket lay

  Saw all this goodly sport, and grieued sore,

  Yet durst he not against it doe or say,

  But did his hart with bitter thoughts engore,

  To see th’vnkindnesse of his Hellenore.

  All day they daunced with great lustihed,

  And with their horned feet the greene grasse wore,

  The whiles their Gotes vpon the brouzes fed,

  Till drouping Phœbus gan to hide his golden hed.

  46 Tho vp they gan their merry pypes to trusse,

  And all their goodly heards did gather round,

  But euery Satyre first did giue a busse

  To Hellenore: so busses did abound.

  Now gan the humid vapour shed the ground

  With perly deaw, and th’Earthes gloomy shade

  Did dim the brightnesse of the welkin round,

  That euery bird and beast awarned made,

  To shrowd themselues, whiles sleepe their senses did inuade.

  47 Which when Malbecco saw, out of his bush

  Vpon his hands and feete he crept full light,

  And like a Gote emongst the Gotes did rush,

  That through the helpe of his faire homes on bight,

  And misty dampe of misconceiuing night,

  And eke through likenesse of his gotish beard,

  He did the better counterfeite aright:

  So home he marcht emongst the homed heard,

  That none of all the Satyres him espyde or heard

  48 At night, when all they went to sleepe, he vewd,

  Whereas his louely wife emongst them lay,

  Embraced of a Satyre rough and rude,

  who all the night did minde his ioyous plays

  Nine times he heard him come aloft ere day,

  That all his hart with gealosie did swell;

  But yet that nights ensample did bewray,

  That not for nought his wife them loued so well,

  When one so oft a night did ring his matins bell.

  49 So closely as he could, he to them crept,

  When wearie of their sport to sleepe they fell,

  And to his wife, that now full soundly slept,

  He whispered in her eare, and did her tell,

  That it was he, which by her side did dwell,

  And therefore prayd her wake, to heare him plaine.

  As one out of a dreame not waked well,

  She turned her, and returned backe againe:

  Yet her for to awake he did the more constraint

  50 At last with irkesome trouble she abrayd;

  And then perceiuing, that it was indeed

  Her old Malbecco, which did her vpbrayd,

  With loosenesse of her loue, and loathly deed,

  She was astonisht with exceeding dreed,

  And would haue wakt the Satyre by her syde;

  But he her prayd, for mercy, or for meed,

  To saue his life, ne let him be descryde,

  But hearken to his lore, and all his counsell hyde.

  51 Tho gan he her perswade, to leaue that lewd

  And loathsome life, of God and man abhord,

  And home returne, where all should be renewd

  With perfect peace, and bandes of fresh accord,

  And she receiu’d againe to bed and bord,

  As if no trespasse euer had bene donne:

  But she it all refused at one word,

  And by no meanes would to his will be wonne,

  But chose emongst the iolly Satyres still to wonne.

  52 He wooed her, till day spring he espyde;

  But all in vaine: and then turnd to the heard,

  Who butted him with homes on euery syde,

  And trode downe in the durt, where his hore beard

  Was fowly dight, and he of death afeard.

  Early before the heauens fairest light

  Out of the ruddy East was fully reard,

  The heardes out of their foldes were loosed quight,

  And he emongst the rest crept forth in sory plight.

  53 So soone as he the Prison dare did pas,

  He ran as fast, as both his feete could beare,

  And neuer looked, who behind him was,

  Ne scarsely who before: like as a Beare

  That creeping close, amongst the hiues to reare

  An hony combe, the wakefull dogs espy,

  And him assayling, sore his carkasse teare,

  That hardly he with life away does fly,

  Ne stayes, till safe himselfe he see from ieopardy.

  54 Ne stayd he, till he came vnto the place,

  Where late his treasure he entombed had,

  Where when he found it not (for Trompart bace

  Had it purloyned for his maister bad:)

  With extreme fury be became quite mad,

  And ran away, ran with himselfe away:

  That who so straungely had him seene bestad,

  With vpstart haire, and staring eyes dismay,

  From Limbo lake him late escaped sure would say.

  55 High ouer hilles and ouer dales he fled,

  As if the wind him on his winges had borne,

  Ne banck nor bush could stay him, when he sped

  His nimble feet, as treading still on thorne:

  Griefe, and despight, and gealosie, and scorne

  Did all the way him follow hard behind,

  And he himselfe himselfe loath’d so forlorne,

  So shamefully forlorne
of womankind;

  That as a Snake, still lurked in his wounded mind.

  56 Still fled he forward, looking backward still,

  Ne stayd his flight, nor fearefull agony,

  Till that he came vnto a rockie hill,

  Ouer the sea, suspended dreadfully,

  That liuing creature it would terrify,

  To looke adowne, or vpward to the hight:

  From thence he threw himselfe dispiteously,

  All desperate of his fore-damned spright,

  That seem’d no helpe for him was left in liuing sight

  57 But through long anguish, and selfe-murdring thought

  He was so wasted and forpined quight,

  That all his substance was consum’d to nought,

  And nothing left, but like an aery Spright,

  That on the rockes he fell so flit and light,

  That he thereby receiu’d no hurt at all,

  But chaunced on a craggy cliff to light;

  Whence he with crooked clawes so long did crall,

  That at the last he found a caue with entrance small.

  58 Into the same he creepes, and thenceforth there

  Resolu’d to build his balefull mansion,

  In drery darkenesse, and continuall feare

  Of that rockes fall, which euer and anon

  Threates with huge ruine him to fall vpon,

  That he dare neuer sleepe, but that one eye

  Still ope he keepes for that occasion;

  Ne euer rests he in tranquillity,

  The roring billowes beat his bowre so boystrously.

  59 Ne euer is he wont on ought to feed,

  But toades and frogs, his pasture poysonous,

  Which in his cold complexion do breed

  A filthy bloud, or humour rancorous,

  Matter of doubt and dread suspitious,

  That doth with curelesse care consume the hart,

  Corrupts the stomacke with gall vitious,

  Croscuts the liuer with internall smart,

  And doth transfixe the soule with deathes etemall dart

  60 Yet can he neuer dye, but dying liues,

  And doth himselfe with sorrow new sustaine,

  That death and life attonce vnto him giues.

  And painefull pleasure turnes to pleasing paine.

  There dwels he euer, miserable swaine,

  Haterull both to him selfe, and euery wight;

  Where he through priuy griefe, and horrour vaine,

  Is woxen so deform’d, that he has quight

  Forgot he was a man, and Gealosie is hight

  CANTO XI

  Britomart chaceth Ollyphant,

  findes Scudamour distrest:

  Assayes the house ofBusyrane,

  where Loues spoyles are exprest.

  1 O hatefull hellish Snake, what furie furst

  Brought thee from balefull house of Proserpine,

  Where in her bosome she thee long had nurst,