The Faerie Queene

by Edmund Spenser

  But when he nigh approcht, he mote aread

  Plaine signes in him of life and liuelihead.

  Whereat much grieu’d against that straunger knight,

  That him too light of credence did mislead,

  He would haue backe retyred from that sight,

  That was to him on earth the deadliest despight.

  21 But that same knight would not once let him start,

  But plainely gan to him declare the case

  Of all his mischiefe, and late lucklesse smart;

  How both he and his fellow there in place

  Were vanquished, and put to foule disgrace,

  And how that he in lieu of life him lent,

  Had vow’d vnto the victor, him to trace

  And follow through the world, where so he went,

  Till that he him deliuered to his punishment.

  22 He therewith much abashed and affrayd,

  Began to tremble euery limbe and vaine;

  And softly whispering him, entyrely prayd,

  T’aduize him better, then by such a traine

  Him to betray vnto a straunger swaine:

  Yet rather counseld him contrarywize,

  Sith he likewise did wrong by him sustaine,

  To ioyne with him and vengeance to deuize,

  Whylest time did offer meanes him sleeping to surprize.

  23 Nathelesse for all his speach, the gentle knight

  Would not be tempted to such villenie,

  Regarding more his faith, which he did plight,

  All were it to his mortall enemie,

  Then to entrap him by false treacherie:

  Great shame in lieges blood to be embrew’d.

  Thus whylest they were debating diuerslie,

  The Saluage forth out of the wood issew’d

  Backe to the place, whereas his Lord he sleeping vew’d

  24 There when he saw those two so neare him stand,

  He doubted much what mote their meaning bee,

  And throwing downe his load out of his hand,

  To weet great store of forrest firute, which hee

  Had for his food late gathered from the tree,

  Himselfe vnto his weapon he betooke,

  That was an oaken plant, which lately hee

  Rent by the roof, which he so sternely shooke,

  That like an hazell wand, it quiuered and quooke.

  25 Whereat the Prince awaking, when he spyde

  The traytour Turpin with that other knight,

  He started vp, and snatching neare his syde

  His trustie sword, the seruant of his might,

  Like a fell Lyon leaped to him light,

  And his left hand vpon his collar layd.

  Therewith the cowheard deaded with affright,

  Fell flat to ground, ne word vnto him sayd,

  But holding vp his hands, with silence mercie prayd.

  26 But he so full of indignation was,

  That to his prayer nought he would incline,

  But as he lay vpon the humbled gras,

  His foot he set on his vile necke, in signe

  Of seruile yoke, that nobler harts repine.

  Then letting him arise like abiect thrall,

  He gan to him obiect his haynous crime,

  And to reuile, and rate, and recreant call,

  And lastly to despoyle of knightly bannerall.

  27 And after all, for greater infamie,

  He by the heeles him hung vpon a tree,

  And baffuld so, that all which passed by,

  The picture of his punishment might see,

  And by the like ensample warned bee,

  How euer they through treason doe trespasse.

  But turne we now backe to that Ladie free,

  Whom late we left ryding vpon an Asse,

  Led by a Carle and foole, which by her side did passe.

  28 She was a Ladie of great dignitie,

  And lifted vp to honorable place,

  Famous through all the land of Faerie,

  Though of meane parentage and kindred base,

  Yet deckt with wondrous giftes of natures grace,

  That all men did her person much admire,

  And praise the feature of her goodly face,

  The beames whereof did kindle louely fire

  In th’harts of many a knight, and many a gentle squire.

  29 But she thereof grew proud and insolent,

  That none she worthie thought to be her fere,

  But scornd them all, that loue vnto her ment;

  Yet was she lou’d of many a worthy pere,

  Vnworthy she to be belou’d so dere,

  That could not weigh of worthinesse aright.

  For beautie is more glorious bright and clere,

  The more it is admir’d of many a wight,

  And noblest she, that serued is of noblest knight.

  30 But this coy Damzell thought contrariwize,

  That such proud looks would make her praysed more;

  And that the more she did all loue despize,

  The more would wretched louers her adore.

  What cared she, who sighed for her sore,

  Or who did wayle or watch the wearie night?

  Let them that list, their lucklesse lot deplore;

  She was borne free, not bound to any wight,

  And so would euer liue, and loue her owne delight.

  31 Through such her stubborne stifnesse, and hard hart,

  Many a wretch, for want of remedie,

  Did languish long in lifeconsuming smart,

  And at the last through dreary dolour die:

  Whylest she, the Ladie of her libertie,

  Did boast her beautie had such soueraine might,

  That with the onely twinckle of her eye,

  She could or saue, or spill, whom she would hight.

  What could the Gods doe more, but doe it more aright?

  32 But loe the Gods, that mortall follies vew,

  Did worthily reuenge this may dens pride;

  And nought regarding her so goodly hew,

  Did laugh at her, that many did deride,

  Whilest she did weepe, of no man mercifide.

  For on a day, when Cupid kept his court,

  As he is wont at each Saint Valentide,

  Vnto the which all louers doe resort,

  That of their loues successe they there may make report.

  33 It fortun’d then, that when the roules were red,

  In which the names of all loues folke were fyled,

  That many there were missing, which were ded,

  Or kept in bands, or from their loues exyled,

  Or by some other violence despoyled.

  Which when as Cupid heard, he wexed wroth,

  And doubting to be wronged, or beguyled,

  He bad his eyes to be vnblindfold both,

  That he might see his men, and muster them by oth.

  34 Then found he many missing of his crew,

  Which wont doe suit and seruice to his might;

  Of whom what was becomen, no man knew.

  Therefore a Iurie was impaneld streight,

  T’enquire of them, whether by force, or sleight,

  Or their owne guilt, they were away conuayd.

  To whom foule Infamie, and fell Despight

  Gaue euidence, that they were all betrayd,

  And murdred cruelly by a rebellious Mayd.

  35 Fayre Mirabella was her name, whereby

  Of all those crymes she there indited was:

  All which when Cupid heard, he by and by

  In great displeasure, wild a Capias

  Should issue forth, t’attach that scornefull lasse.

  The warrant straight was made, and therewithall

  A Baylieffe errant forth in post did passe,

  Whom they by name there Portamore did call;

  He which doth summon louers to loues iudgement hall.

  36 The damzell was attacht, and shortly brought
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  Vnto the barre, whereas she was arrayned:

  But she thereto nould plead, nor answere ought

  Euen for stubborne pride, which her restrayned.

  So iudgement past, as is by law ordayned

  In cases like, which when at last she saw,

  Her stubborne hart, which loue before disdayned,

  Gan stoupe, and falling downe with humble awe,

  Cryde mercie, to abate the extremitie of law.

  37 The sonne of Venus who is myld by kynd,

  But where he is prouokt with peeuishnesse,

  Vnto her prayers piteously enclynd,

  And did the rigour of his doome represse;

  Yet not so freely, but that nathelesse

  He vnto her a penance did impose,

  Which was, that through this worlds wyde wildemes

  She wander should in companie of those,

  Till she had sau’d so many loues, as she did lose.

  38 So now she had bene wandring two whole yeares

  Throughout the world, in this vncomely case,

  Wasting her goodly hew in heauie teares,

  And her good dayes in dolorous disgrace:

  Yet had she not in all these two yeares space,

  Saued but two, yet in two yeares before,

  Throgh her dispiteous pride, whilest loue lackt place,

  She had destroyed two and twenty more.

  Aie me, how could her loue make half amends therefore.

  39 And now she was vppon the weary way,

  When as the gentle Squire, with faire Serene,

  Met her in such misseeming foule array;

  The whiles that mighty man did her demeane

  With all the euill termes and cruell meane,

  That he could make; And eeke that angry foole

  Which follow’d her, with cursed hands vncleane

  Whipping her horse, did with his smarting toole

  Oft whip her dainty selfe, and much augment her doole.

  40 Ne ought it mote auaile her to entreat

  The one or th’other, better her to vse:

  For both so wilfull were and obstinate,

  That all her piteous plaint they did refuse,

  And rather did the more her beate and bruse.

  But most the former villaine, which did lead

  Her tyreling iade, was bent her to abuse;

  Who though she were with wearinesse nigh dead,

  Yet would not let her lite, nor rest a little stead.

  41 For he was sterne, and terrible by nature,

  And eeke of person huge and hideous,

  Exceeding much the measure of mans stature,

  And rather like a Gyant monstruous.

  For sooth he was descended of the hous

  Of those old Gyants, which did warres darraine

  Against the heauen in order battailous,

  And sib to great Orgolio, which was slaine

  By Arthure, when as Vnas Knight he did maintaine.

  42 His lookes were dreadfull, and his fiery eies

  Like two great Beacons, glared bright and wyde,

  Glauncing askew, as if his enemies

  He scorned in his ouerweening pryde;

  And stalking stately like a Crane, did stryde

  At euery step vppon the tiptoes hie,

  And all the way he went, on euery syde

  He gaz’d about, and stared horriblie,

  As if he with his lookes would all men terrifie.

  43 He wore no armour, ne for none did care,

  As no whit dreading any liuing wight;

  But in a Iacket quilted richly rare,

  Vpon checklaton he was straungely dight,

  And on his head a roll of linnen plight,

  Like to the Mores of Malaber he wore;

  With which his locks, as blacke as pitchy night,

  Were bound about, and voyded from before,

  And in his hand a mighty yron club he bore.

  44 This was Disdaine, who led that Ladies horse

  Through thick & thin, through mountains & through plains,

  Compelling her, wher she would not by force

  Haling her palfrey by the hempen raines.

  But that same foole, which most increast her paines,

  Was Scome, who hauing in his hand a whip,

  Her therewith yirks, and still when she complaines,

  The more he laughes, and does her closely quip,

  To see her sore lament, and bite her tender lip.

  45 Whose cruell handling when that Squire beheld,

  And saw those villaines her so vildely vse,

  His gentle heart with indignation sweld,

  And could no lenger beare so great abuse,

  As such a Lady so to beate and bruse;

  But to him stepping, such a stroke him lent,

  That forst him th’halter from his hand to loose,

  And maugre all his might, backe to relent:

  Else had he surely there bene slaine, or fowly shent.

  46 The villaine wroth for greeting him so sore,

  Gathered him selfe together soone againe,

  And with his yron batton, which he bore,

  Let driue at him so dreadfully amaine,

  That for his safety he did him constraine

  To giue him ground, and shift to euery side,

  Rather then once his burden to sustaine:

  For bootelesse thing him seemed, to abide,

  So mighty blowes, or proue the puissaunce of his pride.

  47 Like as a Mastiffe hauing at a bay

  A saluage Bull, whose cruell homes doe threat

  Desperate daunger, if he them assay,

  Traceth his ground, and round about doth beat,

  To spy where he may some aduauntage get;

  The whiles the beast doth rage and loudly rore,

  So did the Squire, the whiles the Carle did fret,

  And fume in his disdainefull mynd the more,

  And oftentimes by Turmagant and Mahound swore.

  48 Nathelesse so sharpely still he him pursewd,

  That at aduantage him at last he tooke,

  When his foote slipt (that slip he dearely rewd,)

  And with his yron club to ground him strooke;

  Where still he lay, ne out of swoune awooke,

  Till heauy hand the Carle vpon him layd,

  And bound him fast: Tho when he vp did looke,

  And saw him selfe captiu’d, he was dismayd,

  Ne powre had to withstand, ne hope of any ayd.

  49 Then vp he made him rise, and forward fare,

  Led in a rope, which both his hands did bynd;

  Ne ought that foole for pitty did him spare,

  But with his whip him following behynd,

  Him often scourg’d, and forst his feete to fynd:

  And other whiles with bitter mockes and mowes

  He would him scome, that to his gentle mynd

  Was much more grieuous, then the others blowes:

  Words sharpely wound, but greatest griefe of scorning growes.

  50 The faire Serena, when she saw him fall

  Vnder that villaines club, then surely thought

  That slaine he was, or made a wretched thrall,

  And fled away with all the speede she mought,

  To seeke for safety, which long time she sought:

  And past through many perils by the way,

  Ere she againe to Calepine was brought;

  The which discourse as now I must delay,

  Till Mirabettaes fortunes I doe further say.

  CANTO VIII

  Prince Arthure ouercomes Disdaine,

  Quites Mirabellfrom dreed:

  Serena found of Saluages,

  By Calepine is freed.

  1 Ye gentle Ladies, in whose soueraine powre

  Loue hath the glory of his kingdome left,

  And th’hearts of men, as your eternall dowre,

  In yron chaines, of liberty bereft,

&nb
sp; Deliuered hath into your hands by gift;

  Be well aware, how ye the same doe vse,

  That pride doe not to tyranny you lift;

  Least if men you of cruelty accuse,

  He from you take that chiefedome, which ye doe abuse.

  2 And as ye soft and tender are by kynde,

  Adornd with goodly gifts of beauties grace,

  So be ye soft and tender eeke in mynde;

  But cruelty and hardnesse from you chace,

  That all your other praises will deface,

  And from you turne the loue of men to hate.

  Ensample take of Mirabellaes case,

  Who from the high degree of happy state,

  Fell into wretched woes, which she repented late.

  3 Who after thraldome of the gentle Squire,

  Which she beheld with lamentable eye,

  Was touched with compassion entire,

  And much lamented his calamity,

  That for her sake fell into misery:

  Which booted nought for prayers, nor for threat

  To hope for to release or mollify;

  For aye the more, that she did them entreat

  The more they him misust, and cruelly did beat.

  4 So as they forward on their way did pas,

  Him still reuiling and afflicting sore,

  They met Prince Arthure with Sir Enias,

  (That was that courteous Knight, whom he before

  Hauing subdew’d, yet did to life restore,)

  To whom as they approcht, they gan augment

  Their cruelty, and him to punish more,

  Scourging and haling him more vehement;

  As if it them should grieue to see his punishment.

  5 The Squire him selfe when as he saw his Lord,

  The witnesse of his wretchednesse, in place,

  Was much asham’d, that with an hempen cord

  He like a dog was led in captiue case,

  And did his head for bashfulnesse abase,

  As loth to see, or to be seene at all:

  Shame would be bid. But whenas Enias

  Beheld two such, of two such villaines thrall,

  His manly mynde was much emmoued therewithall.

  6 And to the Prince thus sayd; See you Sir Knight

  The greatest shame that euer eye yet saw?

  Yond Lady and her Squire with foule despight

  Abusde, against all reason and all law,

  Without regard of pitty or of awe.

  See how they doe that Squire beat and reuile;

  See how they doe the Lady hale and draw.

  But if ye please to lend me leaue a while,

  I will them soone acquite, and both of blame assoile.

  7 The Prince assented, and then he streight way

  Dismounting light, his shield about him threw,

  With which approching, thus he gan to say;

  Abide ye caytiue treachetours vntrew,