LVIII
‘Till now,’ said then the knight, ‘I weened well,
That great Cleopolis, where I have beene, 515
In which that fairest Fary Queene doth dwell,
The fairest citty was, that might be seene;
And that bright towre all built of christall clene,
Panthea, seemd the brightest thing that was:
But now by proofe all otherwise I weene; 520
For this great citty that does far surpas,
And this bright angels towre quite dims that towre of glas.’
LIX
‘Most trew,’ then said the holy aged man;
‘Yet is Cleopolis, for earthly frame,
The fairest peece that eie beholden can: 525
And well beseemes all knights of noble name,
That covett in th’ immortall booke of fame
To be eternized, that same to haunt,
And doen their service to that soveraigne dame,
That glory does to them for guerdon graunt: 530
For she is hevenly borne, and heaven may justly vaunt.
LX
‘And thou, faire ymp, sprong out from English race,
How ever now accompted Elfins sonne,
Well worthy doest thy service for her grace,
To aide a virgin desolate foredonne. 535
But when thou famous victory hast wonne,
And high emongst all knights hast hong thy shield,
Thenceforth the suitt of earthly conquest shonne,
And wash thy hands from guilt of bloody field:
For blood can nought but sin, and wars but sorrows yield. 540
LXI
‘Then seek this path, that I to thee presage,
Which after all to heaven shall thee send;
Then peaceably thy painefull pilgrimage
To yonder same Hierusalem doe bend,
Where is for thee ordaind a blessed end: 545
For thou, emongst those saints whom thou doest see,
Shalt be a saint, and thine owne nations frend
And patrone: thou Saint George shalt called bee,
Saint George of mery England, the signe of victoree.’
LXII
‘Unworthy wretch,’ quoth he, ‘of so great grace, 550
How dare I thinke such glory to attaine?’
‘These, that have it attaynd, were in like cace,’
Quoth he, ‘as wretched, and liv’d in like paine.’
‘But deeds of armes must I at last be faine
And ladies love to leave, so dearely bought?’ 555
‘What need of armes, where peace doth ay remaine,’
Said he, ‘and battailes none are to be fought?
As for loose loves, they’ are vaine, and vanish into nought.’
LXIII
‘O let me not,’ quoth he, ‘then turne againe
Backe to the world, whose joyes so fruitlesse are, 560
But let me heare for aie in peace remaine,
Or streight way on that last long voiage fare,
That nothing may my present hope empare.’
‘That may not be,’ said he, ‘ne maist thou yitt
Forgoe that royal maides bequeathed care, 565
Who did her cause into thy hand committ,
Till from her cursed foe thou have her freely quitt.’
LXIV
‘Then shall I soone,’ quoth he, ‘so God me grace,
Abett that virgins cause disconsolate,
And shortly back returne unto this place, 570
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,’ said he, ‘avouchen good, 575
Sith to thee is unknowne the cradle of thy brood.
LXV
‘For well I wote, thou springst from ancient race
Of Saxon kinges, that have with mightie hand
And many bloody battailes fought in place
High reard their royall throne in Britane land, 580
And vanquisht them, unable to withstand:
From thence a Faery thee unweeting reft,
There as thou slepst in tender swadling band,
And her base Elfin brood there for thee left:
Such men do chaungelings call, so chaungd by Faeries theft. 585
LXVI
‘Thence she thee brought into this Faery lond,
And in an heaped furrow did thee hyde;
Where thee a ploughman all unweeting fond,
As he his toylesome teme that way did guyde,
And brought thee up in ploughmans state to byde, 590
Whereof Georgos he thee gave to name;
Till prickt with courage, and thy forces pryde,
To Fary court thou cam’st to seeke for fame,
And prove thy puissaunt armes, as seemes thee best became.’
LXVII
‘O holy sire,’ quoth he, ‘how shall I quight 595
The many favours I with thee have fownd,
That hast my name and nation redd aright,
And taught the way that does to heaven bownd?’
This saide, adowne he looked to the grownd,
To have returnd, but dazed were his eyne, 600
Through passing brightnes, which did quite confound
His feeble sence, and too exceeding shyne:
So darke are earthly thinges compard to things divine.
LXVIII
At last, whenas himselfe he gan to fynd,
To Una back he cast him to retyre; 605
Who him awaited still with pensive mynd.
Great thankes and goodly meed to that good syre
He thens departing gave, for his paynes hyre.
So came to Una, who him joyd to see,
And after litle rest, gan him desyre, 610
Of her adventure myndfull for to bee.
So leave they take of Cœlia and her daughters three.
Faerie Queene Detailed Table of Contents
Glossary for ‘The Faerie Queene’
Canto XI
The knight with that old Dragon fights
Two dayes incessantly:
The third, him overthrowes, and gayns
Most glorious victory.
I
HIGH time now gan it wex for Una fayre
To thinke of those her captive parents deare,
And their forwasted kingdom to repayre:
Whereto whenas they now approached neare,
With hartie wordes her knight she gan to cheare, 5
And in her modest maner thus bespake:
‘Deare knight, as deare as ever knight was deare,
That all these sorrowes suffer for my sake,
High heven behold the tedious toyle, ye for me take.
II
‘Now are we come unto my native soyle, 10
And to the place, where all our perilles dwell;
Here hauntes that feend, and does his dayly spoyle;
Therefore henceforth bee at your keeping well,
And ever ready for your foeman fell.
The sparke of noble corage now awake, 15
And strive your excellent selfe to excell;
That shall ye evermore renowmed make
Above all knights on earth, that batteill undertake.’
III
And pointing forth, ‘Lo! yonder is,’ said she,
‘The brasen towre, in which my parents deare 20
For dread of that huge feend emprisond be;
Whom I from far see on the walles appeare,
Whose sight my feeble soule doth greatly cheare:
And on the top of all I do espye
The watchman wayting tydings glad to heare; 25
That, O my parents, might I happily
Unto you bring, to ease you of your misery!’
IV
With that they heard a roaring hideous sownd,
That all the ayre with terror filled wyde,
And seemd uneath to shake the stedfast ground. 30
Eftsoones that dreadfull dragon they espyde,
Where stretcht he lay upon the sunny side
Of a great hill, himselfe like a great hill.
But all so soone as he from far descryde
Those glistring armes, that heven with light did fill, 35
He rousd himselfe full blyth, and hastned them untill.
V
Then badd the knight his 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 descryde: 40
She him obayd, and turnd a litle wyde.
Now, O thou sacred Muse, most learned dame,
Fayre ympe of Phœbus, and his aged bryde,
The nourse of time and everlasting fame,
That warlike handes ennoblest with immortall name; 45
VI
O gently come into my feeble brest,
Come gently, but not with that mightie rage,
Wherewith the martiall troupes thou doest infest,
And hartes of great heroës doest enrage,
That nought their kindled corage may aswage: 50
Soone as thy dreadfull trompe begins to sownd,
The god of warre with his fiers equipage
Thou doest awake, sleepe never he so sownd,
And scared nations doest with horror sterne astownd.
VII
Fayre goddesse, lay that furious fitt asyde, 55
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 heven and earth did ring,
A worke of labour long, and endlesse prayse: 60
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.
VIII
By this the dreadfull beast drew nigh to hand,
Halfe flying and halfe footing in his haste, 65
That with his largenesse measured much land,
And made wide shadow under his huge waste;
As mountaine doth the valley overcaste.
Approching nigh, he reared high afore
His body monstrous, horrible, and vaste, 70
Which, to increase his wondrous greatnes more,
Was swoln with wrath, and poyson, and with bloody gore.
IX
And over, all with brasen scales was armd,
Like plated cote of steele, so couched neare,
That nought mote perce, ne might his corse bee harmd 75
With dint of swerd, nor push of pointed speare:
Which as an eagle, seeing pray appeare,
His aery plumes doth rouze, full rudely dight,
So shaked he, that horror was to heare:
For as the clashing of an armor bright, 80
Such noyse his rouzed scales did send unto the knight.
X
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, 85
Were like mayne-yardes, with flying canvas lynd,
With which whenas him list the ayre to beat,
And there by force unwonted passage fynd,
The clowdes before him fledd for terror great,
And all the hevens stood still, amazed with his threat. 90
XI
His huge long tayle, wownd up in hundred foldes,
Does overspred his long bras-scaly back,
Whose wreathed boughtes when ever he unfoldes,
And thick entangled knots adown does slack,
Bespotted as with shieldes of red and blacke, 95
It sweepeth all the land behind him farre,
And of three furlongs does but litle lacke;
And at the point two stinges in fixed arre,
Both deadly sharp, that sharpest steele exceeden farr.
XII
But stinges and sharpest steele did far exceed 100
The sharpnesse of his cruel rending clawes:
Dead was it sure, as sure as death in deed,
What ever thing does touch his ravenous pawes,
Or what within his reach he ever drawes.
But his most hideous head my tongue to tell 105
Does tremble; for his deepe devouring jawes
Wyde gaped, like the griesly mouth of hell,
Through which into his darke abysse all ravin fell.
XIII
And, that more wondrous was, in either jaw
Three ranckes of yron teeth enraunged were, 110
In which yett trickling blood and gobbets raw
Of late devoured bodies did appeare,
That sight thereof bredd cold congealed feare:
Which to increase, and all atonce to kill,
A cloud of smoothering smoke and sulphure seare 115
Out of his stinking gorge forth steemed still,
That all the ayre about with smoke and stench did fill.
XIV
His blazing eyes, like two bright shining shieldes,
Did burne with wrath, and sparkled living fyre;
As two broad beacons, sett in open fieldes, 120
Send forth their flames far of to every shyre,
And warning give, that enimies conspyre
With fire and sword the region to invade;
So flam’d his eyne with rage and rancorous yre:
But far within, as in a hollow glade, 125
Those glaring lampes were sett, that made a dreadfull shade.
XV
So dreadfully he towardes him did pas,
Forelifting up a loft his speckled brest,
And often bounding on the brused gras,
As for great joyaunce of his newcome guest. 130
Eftsoones he gan advaunce his haughty crest,
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. 135
XVI
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: 140
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.
XVII
Both horse and man up lightly rose againe, 145
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; 150
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.
XVIII
Then, with his waving wings displayed wyde,
Himselfe up high he lifted from the ground, 155
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; 160
At last, low stouping with unweldy sway,
Snatcht up both horse and man, to beare them quite away.
XIX
Long he them bore above the subject plaine,
So far as ewghen bow a shaft may send,
Till struggling strong did him at last constraine 165
To let them downe before his flightes end:
As hagard 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; 170
Which, comming down to ground, does free it selfe by fight.
XX
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; 175
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. 180
XXI
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 gulfe does gape, as he would eat 185
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.
XXII
The steely head stuck fast still in his flesh, 190
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 watermill. 195
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.
XXIII
His hideous tayle then hurled he about,
And therewith all enwrapt the nimble thyes 200
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 205
From of the earth, with durty blood distaynd,
For that reprochfull fall right fowly he disdaynd.
XXIV
And fercely tooke his trenchand blade in hand,
With which he stroke so furious and so fell,
That nothing seemd the puissaunce could withstand: 210
Complete Works of Edmund Spenser Page 30
