Complete Works of Edmund Spenser

by Edmund Spenser

  In strong entrenchments he did closely place,

  Which with incessaunt force and endlesse hate

  They battred day and night, and entraunce did awate.

  VII

  The other five, five sondry wayes he sett, 55

  Against the five great bulwarkes of that pyle,

  And unto each a bulwarke did arrett,

  T’ assayle with open force or hidden guyle,

  In hope thereof to win victorious spoile.

  They all that charge did fervently apply 60

  With greedie malice and importune toyle,

  And planted there their huge artillery,

  With which they dayly made most dreadfull battery.

  VIII

  The first troupe was a monstrous rablement

  Of fowle misshapen wightes, of which some were 65

  Headed like owles, with beckes uncomely bent,

  Others like dogs, others like gryphons dreare,

  And some had wings, and some had clawes to teare,

  And every one of them had lynces eyes,

  And every one did bow and arrowes beare; 70

  All those were lawlesse lustes, corrupt envyes,

  And covetous aspects, all cruel enimyes.

  IX

  Those same against the bulwarke of the Sight

  Did lay strong siege and battailous assault,

  Ne once did yield it respitt day nor night, 75

  But soone as Titan gan his head exault,

  And soone againe as he his light withhault,

  Their wicked engins they against it bent:

  That is, each thing by which the eyes may fault:

  But two, then all more huge and violent, 80

  Beautie and money, they that bulwarke sorely rent.

  X

  The second bulwarke was the Hearing Sence,

  Gainst which the second troupe dessignment makes,

  Deformed creatures, in straunge difference,

  Some having heads like harts, some like to snakes, 85

  Some like wilde bores late rouzd out of the brakes;

  Slaunderous reproches, and fowle infamies,

  Leasinges, backbytinges, and vaineglorious crakes,

  Bad counsels, prayses, and false flatteries;

  All those against that fort did bend their batteries. 90

  XI

  Likewise that same third fort, that is the Smell,

  Of that third troupe was cruelly assayd;

  Whose hideous shapes were like to feendes of hell,

  Some like to houndes, some like to apes, dismayd,

  Some like to puttockes, all in plumes arayd; 95

  All shap’t according their conditions:

  For by those ugly formes weren pourtrayd

  Foolish delights and fond abusions,

  Which doe that sence besiege with light illusions.

  XII

  And that fourth band, which cruell battry bent 100

  Against the fourth bulwarke, that is the Taste,

  Was, as the rest, a grysie rablement,

  Some mouth’d like greedy oystriges, some faste

  Like loathly toades, some fashioned in the waste

  Like swine; for so deformd is luxury, 105

  Surfeat, misdiet, and unthriftie waste,

  Vaine feastes, and ydle superfluity:

  All those this sences fort assayle incessantly.

  XIII

  But the fift troupe, most horrible of hew

  And ferce of force, is dreadfull to report: 110

  For some like snailes, some did like spyders shew,

  And some like ugly urchins thick and short:

  Cruelly they assayled that fift fort,

  Armed with dartes of sensuall delight,

  With stinges of carnall lust, and strong effort 115

  Of feeling pleasures, with which day and night

  Against that same fift bulwarke they continued fight.

  XIV

  Thus these twelve troupes with dreadfull puissaunce

  Against that castle restlesse siege did lay,

  And evermore their hideous ordinaunce 120

  Upon the bulwarkes cruelly did play,

  That now it gan to threaten neare decay;

  And evermore their wicked capitayn

  Provoked them the breaches to assay,

  Somtimes with threats, somtimes with hope of gayn, 125

  Which by the ransack of that peece they should attayn.

  XV

  On th’ other syde, th’ assieged castles ward

  Their stedfast stonds did mightily maintaine,

  And many bold repulse and many hard

  Atchievement wrought, with perill and with payne, 130

  That goodly frame from ruine to sustaine:

  And those two brethren gyauntes did defend

  The walles so stoutly with their sturdie mayne,

  That never entraunce any durst pretend,

  But they to direfull death their groning ghosts did send. 135

  XVI

  The noble virgin, ladie of the place,

  Was much dismayed with that dreadful sight;

  For never was she in so evill cace:

  Till that the Prince, seeing her wofull plight,

  Gan her recomfort from so sad affright, 140

  Offring his service and his dearest life

  For her defence, against that carle to fight,

  Which was their chiefe and th’ authour of that strife:

  She him remercied as the patrone of her life.

  XVII

  Eftsoones himselfe in glitterand armes he dight, 145

  And his well proved weapons to him hent:

  So taking courteous conge, he behight

  Those gates to be unbar’d, and forth he went.

  Fayre mote he thee, the prowest and most gent

  That ever brandished bright steele on hye: 150

  Whom soone as that unruly rablement

  With his gay squyre issewing did espye,

  They reard a most outrageous dreadfull yelling cry;

  XVIII

  And therewithall attonce at him let fly

  Their fluttring arrowes, thicke as flakes of snow, 155

  And round about him flocke impetuously,

  Like a great water flood, that, tombling low

  From the high mountaines, threates to over-flow

  With suddein fury all the fertile playne,

  And the sad husbandmans long hope doth throw 160

  A downe the streame, and all his vowes make vayne,

  Nor bounds nor banks his headlong ruine may sustayne.

  XIX

  Upon his shield their heaped hayle he bore,

  And with his sword disperst the raskall flockes,

  Which fled a sonder, and him fell before, 165

  As withered leaves drop from their dryed stockes,

  When the wroth western wind does reave their locks;

  And under neath him his courageous steed,

  The fierce Spumador, trode them downe like docks;

  The fierce Spumador borne of heavenly seed, 170

  Such as Laomedon of Phæbus race did breed.

  XX

  Which suddeine horrour and confused cry

  When as their capteine heard, in haste he yode,

  The cause to weet, and fault to remedy:

  Upon a tygre swift and fierce he rode, 175

  That as the winde ran underneath his lode,

  Whiles his long legs nigh raught unto the ground:

  Full large he was of limbe, and shoulders brode,

  But of such subtile substance and unsound,

  That like a ghost he seem’d, whose grave-clothes were unbound. 180

  XXI

  And in his hand a bended bow was seene,

  And many arrowes under his right side,

  All deadly daungerous, all cruell keene,

  Headed with flint, and fethers bloody dide,

  Such as the Indians in their qui
vers hide: 185

  Those could he well direct and streight as line,

  And bid them strike the marke which he had eyde;

  Ne was there salve, ne was there medicine,

  That mote recure their wounds, so inly they did tine.

  XXII

  As pale and wan as ashes was his looke, 190

  His body leane and meagre as a rake,

  And skin all withered like a dryed rooke,

  Thereto as cold and drery as a snake,

  That seemd to tremble evermore, and quake:

  All in a canvas thin he was bedight, 195

  And girded with a belt of twisted brake:

  Upon his head he wore an helmet light,

  Made of a dead mans skull, that seemd a ghastly sight.

  XXIII

  Maleger was his name; and after him

  There follow’d fast at hand two wicked hags, 200

  With hoary lockes all loose and visage grim;

  Their feet unshod, their bodies wrapt in rags,

  And both as swift on foot as chased stags;

  And yet the one her other legge had lame,

  Which with a staffe, all full of litle snags, 205

  She did support, and Impotence her name:

  But th’ other was Impatience, arm’d with raging flame.

  XXIV

  Soone as the carle from far the Prince espyde

  Glistring in armes and warlike ornament,

  His beast he felly prickt on either syde, 210

  And his mischievous bow full readie bent,

  With which at him a cruell shaft he sent:

  But he was warie, and it warded well

  Upon his shield, that it no further went,

  But to the ground the idle quarrell fell: 215

  Then he another and another did expell.

  XXV

  Which to prevent, the Prince his mortall speare

  Soone to him raught, and fierce at him did ride,

  To be avenged of that shot whyleare:

  But he was not so hardy to abide 220

  That bitter stownd, but turning quicke aside

  His light-foot beast, fled fast away for feare:

  Whom to poursue, the infant after hide,

  So fast as his good courser could him beare;

  But labour lost it was to weene approch him neare. 225

  XXVI

  For as the winged wind his tigre fled,

  That vew of eye could scarse him over take,

  Ne scarse his feet on ground were seene to tred:

  Through hils and dales he speedy way did make,

  Ne hedge ne ditch his readie passage brake, 230

  And in his flight the villein turn’d his face,

  (As wonts the Tartar by the Caspian lake,

  When as the Russian him in fight does chace)

  Unto his tygres taile, and shot at him apace.

  XXVII

  Apace he shot, and yet he fled apace, 235

  Still as the greedy knight nigh to him drew,

  And oftentimes he would relent his pace,

  That him his foe more fiercely should poursew:

  Who when his uncouth manner he did vew,

  He gan avize to follow him no more, 240

  But keepe his standing, and his shaftes eschew,

  Untill he quite had spent his perlous store,

  And then assayle him fresh, ere he could shift for more.

  XXVIII

  But that lame hag, still as abroad he strew

  His wicked arrowes, gathered them againe, 245

  And to him brought, fresh batteill to renew:

  Which he espying, cast her to restraine

  From yielding succour to that cursed swaine,

  And her attaching, thought her hands to tye;

  But soone as him dismounted on the plaine 250

  That other hag did far away espye

  Binding her sister, she to him ran hastily;

  XXIX

  And catching hold of him, as downe he lent,

  Him backeward overthrew, and downe him stayd

  With their rude handes and gryesly graplement, 255

  Till that the villein, comming to their ayd,

  Upon him fell, and lode upon him layd:

  Full litle wanted, but he had him slaine,

  And of the battell balefull end had made,

  Had not his gentle squire beheld his paine, 260

  And commen to his reskew, ere his bitter bane.

  XXX

  So greatest and most glorious thing on ground

  May often need the helpe of weaker hand;

  So feeble is mans state, and life unsound,

  That in assuraunce it may never stand, 265

  Till it dissolved be from earthly band.

  Proofe be thou, Prince, the prowest man alyve,

  And noblest borne of all in Britayne land;

  Yet thee fierce Fortune did so nearely drive,

  That had not Grace thee blest, thou shouldest not survive. 270

  XXXI

  The squyre arriving, fiercely in his armes

  Snatcht first the one, and then the other jade,

  His chiefest letts and authors of his harmes,

  And them perforce withheld with threatned blade,

  Least that his lord they should behinde invade; 275

  The whiles the Prince, prickt with reprochful shame,

  As one awakte out of long slombring shade,

  Revivyng thought of glory and of fame,

  United all his powres to purge him selfe from blame.

  XXXII

  Like as a fire, the which in hollow cave 280

  Hath long bene underkept and down supprest,

  With murmurous disdayne doth inly rave,

  And grudge, in so streight prison to be prest,

  At last breakes forth with furious unrest,

  And strives to mount unto his native seat; 285

  All that did earst it hinder and molest,

  Yt now devoures with flames and scorching heat,

  And carries into smoake with rage and horror great.

  XXXIII

  So mightely the Briton Prince him rouzd

  Out of his holde, and broke his caytive bands; 290

  And as a beare, whom angry curres have touzd,

  Having off-shakt them, and escapt their hands,

  Becomes more fell, and all that him with stands

  Treads down and overthrowes. Now had the carle

  Alighted from his tigre, and his hands 295

  Discharged of his bow and deadly quar’le,

  To seize upon his foe flatt lying on the marle.

  XXXIV

  Which now him turnd to disavantage deare,

  For neither can he fly, nor other harme,

  But trust unto his strength and manhood meare, 300

  Sith now he is far from his monstrous swarme,

  And of his weapons did him selfe disarme.

  The knight, yet wrothfull for his late disgrace,

  Fiercely advaunst his valorous right arme,

  And him so sore smott with his yron mace, 305

  That groveling to the ground he fell, and fild his place.

  XXXV

  Wel weened hee that field was then his owne,

  And all his labor brought to happy end,

  When suddein up the villeine overthrowne

  Out of his swowne arose, fresh to contend, 310

  And gan him selfe to second battaill bend,

  As hurt he had not beene. Thereby there lay

  An huge great stone, which stood upon one end,

  And had not bene removed many a day;

  Some land-marke seemd to bee, or signe of sundry way. 315

  XXXVI

  The same he snatcht, and with exceeding sway

  Threw at his foe, who was right well aware

  To shonne the engin of his meant decay;

  It booted not to thinke that throw to beare,

  But grownd he gave,
and lightly lept areare: 320

  Efte fierce retourning, as a faulcon fayre,

  That once hath failed of her souse full neare,

  Remounts againe into the open ayre,

  And unto better fortune doth her selfe prepayre.

  XXXVII

  So brave retourning, with his brandisht blade, 325

  He to the carle him selfe agayn addrest,

  And strooke at him so sternely, that he made

  An open passage through his riven brest,

  That halfe the steele behind his backe did rest;

  Which drawing backe, he looked ever more 330

  When the hart blood should gush out of his chest,

  Or his dead corse should fall upon the flore;

  But his dead corse upon the flore fell nathemore.

  XXXVIII

  Ne drop of blood appeared shed to bee,

  All were the wownd so wide and wonderous, 335

  That through his carcas one might playnly see.

  Halfe in amaze with horror hideous,

  And halfe in rage to be deluded thus,

  Again through both the sides he strooke him quight,

  That made his spright to grone full piteous: 340

  Yet nathemore forth fled his groning spright,

  But freshly as at first, prepard himselfe to fight.

  XXXIX

  Thereat he smitten was with great affright,

  And trembling terror did his hart apall,

  Ne wist he what to thinke of that same sight, 345

  Ne what to say, ne what to doe at all;

  He doubted least it were some magicall

  Illusion, that did beguile his sense,

  Or wandring ghost, that wanted funerall,

  Or aery spirite under false pretence, 350

  Or hellish feend raysd up through divelish science.

  XL

  His wonder far exceeded reasons reach,

  That he began to doubt his dazeled sight,

  And oft of error did him selfe appeach:

  Flesh without blood, a person without spright, 355

  Wounds without hurt, a body without might,

  That could doe harme, yet could not harmed bee,

  That could not die, yet seemd a mortall wight,

  That was most strong in most infirmitee;

  Like did he never heare, like did he never see. 360

  XLI

  A while he stood in this astonishment,

  Yet would he not for all his great dismay

  Give over to effect his first intent,

  And th’ utmost meanes of victory assay,

  Or th’ utmost yssew of his owne decay. 365

  His owne good sword Mordure, that never fayld

  At need till now, he lightly threw away,

  And his bright shield, that nought him now avayld,

  And with his naked hands him forcibly assayld.

  XLII

  Twixt his two mighty armes him up he snatcht, 370

  And crusht his carcas so against his brest,