Complete Works of Edmund Spenser

by Edmund Spenser

  That she note stirre. Then gan her sonne to flye

  Full fast away, and did her quite forsake;

  But Guyon after him in hast did hye, 115

  And soone him overtooke in sad perplexitye.

  XIV

  In his strong armes he stifly him embraste,

  Who, him gainstriving, nought at all prevaild:

  For all his power was utterly defaste,

  And furious fitts at earst quite weren quaild: 120

  Oft he re’nforst, and oft his forces fayld,

  Yet yield he would not, nor his rancor slack.

  Then him to ground he cast, and rudely hayld,

  And both his hands fast bound behind his backe,

  And both his feet in fetters to an yron rack. 125

  XV

  With hundred yron chaines he did him bind,

  And hundred knots, that did him sore constraine:

  Yet his great yron teeth he still did grind,

  And grimly gnash, threatning revenge in vaine:

  His burning eyen, whom bloody strakes did staine, 130

  Stared full wide, and threw forth sparkes of fyre,

  And more for ranck despight then for great paine,

  Shakt his long locks, colourd like copper-wyre,

  And bitt his tawny beard to shew his raging yre.

  XVI

  Thus whenas Guyon Furor had captivd, 135

  Turning about he saw that wretched squyre,

  Whom that mad man of life nigh late deprivd,

  Lying on ground, all soild with blood and myre:

  Whom whenas he perceived to respyre,

  He gan to comfort, and his woundes to dresse. 140

  Being at last recured, he gan inquyre,

  What hard mishap him brought to such distresse,

  And made that caytives thrall, the thrall of wretchednesse.

  XVII

  With hart then throbbing, and with watry eyes,

  ‘Fayre sir,’ quoth he, ‘what man can shun the hap, 145

  That hidden lyes unwares him to surpryse?

  Misfortune waites advantage to entrap

  The man most wary in her whelming lap.

  So me, weake wretch, of many weakest one,

  Unweeting, and unware of such mishap, 150

  She brought to mischiefe through occasion,

  Where this same wicked villein did me light upon.

  XVIII

  ‘It was a faithlesse squire, that was the sourse

  Of all my sorrow, and of these sad teares,

  With whom from tender dug of commune nourse 155

  Attonce I was upbrought, and eft, when yeares

  More rype us reason lent to chose our peares,

  Our selves in league of vowed love wee knitt:

  In which we long time, without gealous feares

  Or faultie thoughts, contynewd, as was fitt; 160

  And, for my part I vow, dissembled not a whitt.

  XIX

  ‘It was my fortune, commune to that age,

  To love a lady fayre of great degree,

  The which was borne of noble parentage,

  And set in highest seat of dignitee, 165

  Yet seemd no lesse to love then loved to bee:

  Long I her serv’d, and found her faithfull still,

  Ne ever thing could cause us disagree:

  Love, that two harts makes one, makes eke one will:

  Each strove to please, and others pleasure to fulfill. 170

  XX

  ‘My friend, hight Philemon, I did partake

  Of all my love and all my privitie;

  Who greatly joyous seemed for my sake,

  And gratious to that lady, as to mee;

  Ne ever wight, that mote so welcome bee 175

  As he to her, withouten blott or blame,

  Ne ever thing, that she could thinke or see,

  But unto him she would impart the same:

  O wretched man, that would abuse so gentle dame!

  XXI

  ‘At last such grace I found, and meanes I wrought, 180

  That I that lady to my spouse had wonne;

  Accord of friendes, consent of parents sought,

  Affyaunce made, my happinesse begonne,

  There wanted nought but few rites to be donne,

  Which mariage make: that day too farre did seeme: 185

  Most joyous man on whom the shining sunne

  Did shew his face, my selfe I did esteeme,

  And that my falser friend did no lesse joyous deeme.

  XXII

  ‘But ear that wished day his beame disclosd,

  He, either envying my toward good, 190

  Or of himselfe to treason ill disposd,

  One day unto me came in friendly mood,

  And told for secret, how he understood,

  That lady, whom I had to me assynd,

  Had both distaind her honorable blood, 195

  And eke the faith which she to me did bynd;

  And therfore wisht me stay, till I more truth should fynd.

  XXIII

  ‘The gnawing anguish and sharp gelosy,

  Which his sad speach infixed in my brest,

  Ranckled so sore, and festred inwardly, 200

  That my engreeved mind could find no rest,

  Till that the truth thereof I did out wrest;

  And him besought, by that same sacred band

  Betwixt us both, to counsell me the best.

  He then with solemne oath and plighted hand 205

  Assurd, ere long the truth to let me understand.

  XXIV

  ‘Ere long with like againe he boorded mee,

  Saying, he now had boulted all the floure,

  And that it was a groome of base degree,

  Which of my love was partener paramoure: 210

  Who used in a darkesome inner bowre

  Her oft to meete: which better to approve,

  He promised to bring me at that howre,

  When I should see that would me nearer move,

  And drive me to withdraw my blind abused love. 215

  XXV

  ‘This gracelesse man, for furtherance of his guile,

  Did court the handmayd of my lady deare,

  Who, glad t’ embosome his affection vile,

  Did all she might, more pleasing to appeare.

  One day, to worke her to his will more neare, 220

  He woo’d her thus: “Pryene,” (so she hight)

  “What great despight doth Fortune to thee beare,

  Thus lowly to abase thy beautie bright,

  That it should not deface all others lesser light?

  XXVI

  ‘“But if she had her least helpe to thee lent, 225

  T’ adorne thy forme according thy desart,

  Their blazing pride thou wouldest soone have blent,

  And staynd their prayses with thy least good part;

  Ne should faire Claribell with all her art,

  Though she thy lady be, approch thee neare: 230

  For proofe thereof, this evening, as thou art,

  Aray thy selfe in her most gorgeous geare,

  That I may more delight in thy embracement deare.”

  XXVII

  ‘The mayden, proud through praise and mad through love,

  Him hearkned to, and soone her selfe arayd, 235

  The whiles to me the treachour did remove

  His craftie engin, and, as he had sayd,

  Me leading, in a secret corner layd,

  The sad spectatour of my tragedie;

  Where left, he went, and his owne false part playd, 240

  Disguised like that groome of base degree,

  Whom he had feignd th’ abuser of my love to bee.

  XXVIII

  ‘Eftsoones he came unto th’ appointed place,

  And with him brought Pryene, rich arayd,

  In Claribellaes clothes. Her proper face 245

  I not descerned in that darkesome shade,r />
  But weend it was my love with whom he playd.

  Ah God! what horrour and tormenting griefe

  My hart, my handes, mine eyes, and all assayd!

  Me liefer were ten thousand deathes priefe, 250

  Then wounde of gealous worme, and shame of such repriefe.

  XXIX

  ‘I home retourning, fraught with fowle despight,

  And chawing vengeaunce all the way I went,

  Soone as my loathed love appeard in sight,

  With wrathfull hand I slew her innocent; 255

  That after soone I dearely did lament:

  For when the cause of that outrageous deede

  Demaunded, I made plaine and evident,

  Her faultie handmayd, which that bale did breede,

  Confest how Philemon her wrought to chaunge her weede. 260

  XXX

  ‘Which when I heard, with horrible affright

  And hellish fury all enragd, I sought

  Upon my selfe that vengeable despight

  To punish: yet it better first I thought,

  To wreake my wrath on him that first it wrought. 265

  To Philemon, false faytour Philemon,

  I cast to pay that I so dearely bought:

  Of deadly drugs I gave him drinke anon,

  And washt away his guilt with guilty potion.

  XXXI

  ‘Thus heaping crime on crime, and griefe on griefe, 270

  To loose of love adjoyning losse of frend,

  I meant to purge both with a third mischiefe,

  And in my woes beginner it to end.

  That was Pryene; she did first offend,

  She last should smart: with which cruell intent, 275

  When I at her my murdrous blade did bend,

  She fled away with ghastly dreriment,

  And I, poursewing my fell purpose, after went.

  XXXII

  ‘Feare gave her winges, and rage enforst my flight:

  Through woods and plaines so long I did her chace, 280

  Till this mad man, whom your victorious might

  Hath now fast bound, me met in middle space:

  As I her, so he me poursewd apace,

  And shortly overtooke: I, breathing yre,

  Sore chauffed at my stay in such a cace, 285

  And with my heat kindled his cruell fyre;

  Which kindled once, his mother did more rage inspyre.

  XXXIII

  ‘Betwixt them both, they have me doen to dye,

  Through wounds, and strokes, and stubborne handeling,

  That death were better then such agony 290

  As griefe and fury unto me did bring;

  Of which in me yet stickes the mortall sting,

  That during life will never be appeasd.’

  When he thus ended had his sorrowing,

  Said Guyon: ‘Squyre, sore have ye beene diseasd; 295

  But all your hurts may soone through temperance be easd.’

  XXXIV

  Then gan the palmer thus: ‘Most wretched man,

  That to affections does the bridle lend!

  In their beginning they are weake and wan,

  But soone through suff’rance growe to fearefull end. 300

  Whiles they are weake, betimes with them contend:

  For when they once to perfect strength do grow,

  Strong warres they make, and cruell battry bend

  Gainst fort of reason, it to overthrow:

  Wrath, gelosy, griefe, love this squyre have laide thus low. 305

  XXXV

  ‘Wrath, gealosie, griefe, love do thus expell:

  Wrath is a fire, and gealosie a weede,

  Griefe is a flood, and love a monster fell;

  The fire of sparkes, the weede of little seede,

  The flood of drops, the monster filth did breede: 310

  But sparks, seed, drops, and filth do thus delay;

  The sparks soone quench, the springing seed outweed,

  The drops dry up, and filth wipe cleane away:

  So shall wrath, gealosy, griefe, love die and decay.’

  XXXVI

  ‘Unlucky squire,’ saide Guyon, ‘sith thou hast 315

  Falne into mischiefe through intemperaunce,

  Henceforth take heede of that thou now hast past,

  And guyde thy waies with warie governaunce,

  Least worse betide thee by some later chaunce.

  But read how art thou nam’d, and of what kin.’ 320

  ‘Phedon I hight,’ quoth he, ‘and do advaunce

  Mine auncestry from famous Coradin,

  Who first to rayse our house to honour did begin.’

  XXXVII

  Thus as he spake, lo! far away they spyde

  A varlet ronning towardes hastily, 325

  Whose flying feet so fast their way applyde,

  That round about a cloud of dust did fly,

  Which, mingled all with sweate, did dim his eye.

  He soone approched, panting, breathlesse, whot,

  And all so soyld, that none could him descry. 330

  His countenaunce was bold, and bashed not

  For Guyons lookes, but scornefull eyglaunce at him shot.

  XXXVIII

  Behind his backe he bore a brasen shield,

  On which was drawen faire, in colours fit,

  A flaming fire in midst of bloody field, 335

  And round about the wreath this word was writ,

  Burnt I doe burne. Right well beseemed it

  To be the shield of some redoubted knight:

  And in his hand two dartes exceeding flit

  And deadly sharp he held, whose heads were dight 340

  In poyson and in blood of malice and despight.

  XXXIX

  When he in presence came, to Guyon first

  He boldly spake: ‘Sir knight, if knight thou bee,

  Abandon this forestalled place at erst,

  For feare of further harme, I counsell thee; 345

  Or bide the chaunce at thine owne jeopardee.’

  The knight at his great boldnesse wondered,

  And though he scornd his ydle vanitee,

  Yet mildly him to purpose answered;

  For not to grow of nought he it conjectured. 350

  XL

  ‘Varlet, this place most dew to me I deeme,

  Yielded by him that held it forcibly.

  But whence shold come that harme, which thou dost seeme

  To threat to him that mindes his chaunce t’ abye?’

  ‘Perdy,’ sayd he, ‘here comes, and is hard by, 355

  A knight of wondrous powre and great assay,

  That never yet encountred enemy,

  But did him deadly daunt, or fowle dismay;

  Ne thou for better hope, if thou his presence stay.’

  XLI

  ‘How hight he then,’ sayd Guyon, ‘and from whence?’ 360

  ‘Pyrochles is his name, renowmed farre

  For his bold feates and hardy confidence,

  Full oft approvd in many a cruell warre;

  The brother of Cymochles, both which arre

  The sonnes of old Acrates and Despight, 365

  Acrates, sonne of Phlegeton and Jarre;

  But Phlegeton is sonne of Herebus and Night;

  But Herebus sonne of Aeternitie is hight.

  XLII

  ‘So from immortall race he does proceede,

  That mortall hands may not withstand his might, 370

  Drad for his derring doe and bloody deed;

  For all in blood and spoile is his delight.

  His am I Atin, his in wrong and right,

  That matter make for him to worke upon,

  And stirre him up to strife and cruell fight. 375

  Fly therefore, fly this fearfull stead anon,

  Least thy foolhardize worke thy sad confusion.’

  XLIII

  ‘His be that care, whom most it doth concerne,’

  Sayd he: ‘
but whether with such hasty flight

  Art thou now bownd? for well mote I discerne 380

  Great cause, that carries thee so swifte and light.’

  ‘My lord,’ quoth he, ‘me sent, and streight behight

  To seeke Occasion, where so she bee:

  For he is all disposd to bloody fight,

  And breathes out wrath and hainous crueltee: 385

  Hard is his hap, that first fals in his jeopardee.’

  XLIV

  ‘Mad man,’ said then the palmer, ‘that does seeke

  Occasion to wrath, and cause of strife!

  Shee comes unsought, and shonned followes eke.

  Happy who can abstaine, when Rancor rife 390

  Kindles revenge, and threats his rusty knife:

  Woe never wants, where every cause is caught,

  And rash Occasion makes unquiet life.’

  ‘Then loe! wher bound she sits, whom thou hast sought,’

  Said Guyon: ‘let that message to thy lord be brought.’ 395

  XLV

  That when the varlett heard and saw, streight way

  He wexed wondrous wroth, and said: ‘Vile knight,

  That knights and knighthood doest with shame upbray,

  And shewst th’ ensample of thy childishe might,

  With silly weake old woman thus to fight! 400

  Great glory and gay spoile sure hast thou gott,

  And stoutly prov’d thy puissaunce here in sight.

  That shall Pyrochles well requite, I wott,

  And with thy blood abolish so reprochfull blott.’

  XLVI

  With that, one of his thrillant darts he threw, 405

  Headed with yre and vengeable despight:

  The quivering steele his aymed end wel knew,

  And to his brest it selfe intended right.

  But he was wary, and, ere it empight

  In the meant marke, advaunst his shield atweene, 410

  On which it seizing, no way enter might,

  But backe rebownding left the forckhead keene:

  Eftsoones he fled away, and might no where be seene.

  Faerie Queene Detailed Table of Contents

  Glossary for ‘The Faerie Queene’

  Canto V

  Pyrochles does with Guyon fight,

  And Furors chayne unbinds;

  Of whom sore hurt, for his revenge

  Attin Cymochles finds.

  I

  WHO ever doth to temperaunce apply

  His stedfast life, and all his actions frame,

  Trust me, shal find no greater enimy,

  Then stubborne perturbation, to the same;

  To which right wel the wise doe give that name; 5

  For it the goodly peace of staied mindes

  Does overthrow, and troublous warre proclame:

  His owne woes author, who so bound it findes,

  As did Pyrochles, and it wilfully unbindes.

  II

  After that varlets flight, it was not long, 10