XLVII
Therefore desirous th’ end of all their dayes 415
To know, and them t’ enlarge with long extent,
By wondrous skill and many hidden wayes
To the three Fatall Sisters house she went.
Farre under ground from tract of living went,
Downe in the bottome of the deepe Abysse, 420
Where Demogorgon, in dull darknesse pent,
Farre from the view of gods and heavens blis,
The hideous Chaos keepes, their dreadfull dwelling is.
XLVIII
There she them found, all sitting round about
The direfull distaffe standing in the mid, 425
And with unwearied fingers drawing out
The lines of life, from living knowledge hid.
Sad Clotho held the rocke, the whiles the thrid
By griesly Lachesis was spun with paine,
That cruell Atropos eftsoones undid, 430
With cursed knife cutting the twist in twaine:
Most wretched men, whose dayes depend on thrids so vaine!
XLIX
She them saluting, there by them sate still,
Beholding how the thrids of life they span:
And when at last she had beheld her fill, 435
Trembling in heart, and looking pale and wan,
Her cause of comming she to tell began.
To whom fierce Atropos: ‘Bold Fay, that durst
Come see the secret of the life of man,
Well worthie thou to be of Jove accurst, 440
And eke thy childrens thrids to be a sunder burst.’
L
Whereat she sore affrayd, yet her besought
To graunt her boone, and rigour to abate,
That she might see her childrens thrids forth brought,
And know the measure of their utmost date, 445
To them ordained by eternall Fate:
Which Clotho graunting, shewed her the same:
That when she saw, it did her much amate
To see their thrids so thin as spiders frame,
And eke so short, that seemd their ends out shortly came. 450
LI
She then began them humbly to intreate
To draw them longer out, and better twine,
That so their lives might be prolonged late.
But Lachesis thereat gan to repine,
And sayd: ‘Fond dame! that deem’st of things divine 455
As of humane, that they may altred bee,
And chaung’d at pleasure for those impes of thine:
Not so; for what the Fates do once decree,
Not all the gods can chaunge, nor Jove him self can free.’
LII
‘Then since,’ quoth she, ‘the terme of each mans life 460
For nought may lessened nor enlarged bee,
Graunt this, that when ye shred with fatall knife
His line which is the eldest of the three,
Which is of them the shortest, as I see,
Eftsoones his life may passe into the next; 465
And when the next shall likewise ended bee,
That both their lives may likewise be annext
Unto the third, that his may so be trebly wext.’
LIII
They graunted it; and then that carefull Fay
Departed thence with full contented mynd; 470
And comming home, in warlike fresh aray
Them found all three, according to their kynd:
But unto them what destinie was assynd,
Or how their lives were eekt, she did not tell;
But evermore, when she fit time could fynd, 475
She warned them to tend their safeties well,
And love each other deare, what ever them befell.
LIV
So did they surely during all their dayes,
And never discord did amongst them fall;
Which much augmented all their other praise. 480
And now, t’ increase affection naturall,
In love of Canacee they joyned all:
Upon which ground this same great battell grew,
Great matter growing of beginning small;
The which, for length, I will not here pursew, 485
But rather will reserve it for a canto new.
Faerie Queene Detailed Table of Contents
Glossary for ‘The Faerie Queene’
Canto III
The battell twixt three brethren with
Cambell for Canacee:
Cambina with true friendships bond
Doth their long strife agree.
I
O WHY doe wretched men so much desire
To draw their dayes unto the utmost date,
And doe not rather wish them soone expire,
Knowing the miserie of their estate,
And thousand perills which them still awate, 5
Tossing them like a boate amid the mayne,
That every houre they knocke at Deathes gate?
And he that happie seemes and least in payne,
Yet is as nigh his end as he that most doth playne.
II
Therefore this Fay I hold but fond and vaine, 10
The which, in seeking for her children three
Long life, thereby did more prolong their paine.
Yet whilest they lived none did ever see
More happie creatures then they seem’d to bee,
Nor more ennobled for their courtesie, 15
That made them dearely lov’d of each degree,
Ne more renowmed for their chevalrie,
That made them dreaded much of all men farre and nie.
III
These three that hardie chalenge tooke in hand,
For Canacee with Cambell for to fight: 20
The day was set, that all might understand,
And pledges pawnd the same to keepe a right:
That day, the dreddest day that living wight
Did ever see upon this world to shine,
So soone as heavens window shewed light, 25
These warlike champions, all in armour shine,
Assembled were in field, the chalenge to define.
IV
The field with listes was all about enclos’d,
To barre the prease of people farre away;
And at th’ one side sixe judges were dispos’d, 30
To view and deeme the deedes of armes that day;
And on the other side, in fresh aray,
Fayre Canacee upon a stately stage
Was set, to see the fortune of that fray,
And to be seene, as his most worthie wage 35
That could her purchase with his lives adventur’d gage.
V
Then entred Cambell first into the list,
With stately steps and fearelesse countenance,
As if the conquest his he surely wist.
Soone after did the brethren three advance, 40
In brave aray and goodly amenance,
With scutchins gilt and banners broad displayd;
And marching thrise in warlike ordinance,
Thrise lowted lowly to the noble mayd,
The whiles shril trompets and loud clarions sweetly playd. 45
VI
Which doen, the doughty chalenger came forth,
All arm’d to point, his chalenge to abet:
Gainst whom Sir Priamond, with equall worth
And equall armes, himselfe did forward set.
A trompet blew; they both together met 50
With dreadfull force and furious intent,
Carelesse of perill in their fiers affret,
As if that life to losse they had forelent,
And cared not to spare that should be shortly spent.
VII
Right practicke was Sir Priamond in fight, 55
And throughly skild in use of shield and speare;
Ne lesse approved was Cambelloes mig
ht,
Ne lesse his skill in weapons did appeare,
That hard it was to weene which harder were.
Full many mightie strokes on either side 60
Were sent, that seemed death in them to beare,
But they were both so watchfull and well eyde,
That they avoyded were, and vainely by did slyde.
VIII
Yet one of many was so strongly bent
By Priamond, that with unluckie glaunce 65
Through Cambels shoulder it unwarely went,
That forced him his shield to disadvaunce:
Much was he grieved with that gracelesse chaunce,
Yet from the wound no drop of bloud there fell,
But wondrous paine, that did the more enhaunce 70
His haughtie courage to advengement fell:
Smart daunts not mighty harts, but makes them more to swell.
IX
With that, his poynant speare he fierce aventred,
With doubled force, close underneath his shield,
That through the mayles into his thigh it entred, 75
And there arresting, readie way did yield
For bloud to gush forth on the grassie field;
That he for paine himselfe not right upreare,
But too and fro in great amazement reel’d,
Like an old oke, whose pith and sap is seare, 80
At puffe of every storme doth stagger here and there.
X
Whom so dismayd when Cambell had espide,
Againe he drove at him with double might,
That nought mote stay the steele, till in his side
The mortall point most cruelly empight: 85
Where fast infixed, whilest he sought by slight
It forth to wrest, the staffe a sunder brake,
And left the head behind: with which despight
He all enrag’d, his shivering speare did shake,
And charging him a fresh, thus felly him bespake: 90
XI
‘Lo! faitour, there thy meede unto thee take,
The meede of thy mischalenge and abet:
Not for thine owne, but for thy sisters sake,
Have I thus long thy life unto thee let:
But to forbeare doth not forgive the det.’ 95
The wicked weapon heard his wrathfull vow,
And passing forth with furious affret,
Pierst through his bever quite into his brow,
That with the force it backward forced him to bow.
XII
Therewith a sunder in the midst it brast, 100
And in his hand nought but the troncheon left;
The other halfe behind yet sticking fast
Out of his headpeece Cambell fiercely reft,
And with such furie backe at him it heft,
That, making way unto his dearest life, 105
His weasand pipe it through his gorget cleft:
Thence streames of purple bloud issuing rife
Let forth his wearie ghost, and made an end of strife.
XIII
His wearie ghost, assoyld from fleshly band,
Did not, as others wont, directly fly 110
Unto her rest in Plutoes griesly land,
Ne into ayre did vanish presently,
Ne chaunged was into a starre in sky:
But through traduction was eftsoones derived,
Like as his mother prayd the Destinie, 115
Into his other brethren that survived,
In whom he liv’d a new, of former life deprived.
XIV
Whom when on ground his brother next beheld,
Though sad and sorie for so heavy sight,
Yet leave unto his sorrow did not yeeld; 120
But rather stird to vengeance and despight,
Through secret feeling of his generous spright,
Rusht fiercely forth, the battell to renew,
As in reversion of his brothers right;
And chalenging the virgin as his dew. 125
His foe was soone addrest: the trompets freshly blew.
XV
With that they both together fiercely met,
As if that each ment other to devoure;
And with their axes both so sorely bet,
That neither plate nor mayle, whereas their powre 130
They felt, could once sustaine the hideous stowre,
But rived were like rotten wood a sunder,
Whilest through their rifts the ruddie bloud did showre,
And fire did flash, like lightning after thunder,
That fild the lookers on attonce with ruth and wonder. 135
XVI
As when two tygers, prickt with hungers rage,
Have by good fortune found some beasts fresh spoyle,
On which they weene their famine to asswage,
And gaine a feastfull guerdon of their toyle;
Both falling out doe stirre up strifefull broyle, 140
And cruell battell twixt themselves doe make,
Whiles neither lets the other touch the soyle,
But either sdeignes with other to partake:
So cruelly these knights strove for that ladies sake.
XVII
Full many strokes, that mortally were ment, 145
The whiles were enterchaunged twixt them two;
Yet they were all with so good wariment
Or warded, or avoyded and let goe,
That still the life stood fearelesse of her foe:
Till Diamond, disdeigning long delay 150
Of doubtfull fortune wavering to and fro,
Resolv’d to end it one or other way;
And heav’d his murdrous axe at him with mighty sway.
XVIII
The dreadfull stroke, in case it had arrived
Where it was ment, (so deadly it was ment) 155
The soule had sure out of his bodie rived,
And stinted all the strife incontinent.
But Cambels fate that fortune did prevent:
For seeing it at hand, he swarv’d asyde,
And so gave way unto his fell intent: 160
Who, missing of the marke which he had eyde,
Was with the force nigh feld whilst his right foot did slyde.
XIX
As when a vulture greedie of his pray,
Through hunger long, that hart to him doth lend,
Strikes at an heron with all his bodies sway, 165
That from his force seemes nought may it defend;
The warie fowle, that spies him toward bend
His dreadfull souse, avoydes it, shunning light,
And maketh him his wing in vaine to spend;
That with the weight of his owne weeldlesse might, 170
He falleth nigh to ground, and scarse recovereth flight.
XX
Which faire adventure when Cambello spide,
Full lightly, ere himselfe he could recower,
From daungers dread to ward his naked side,
He can let drive at him with all his power, 175
And with his axe him smote in evill hower,
That from his shoulders quite his head he reft:
The headlesse tronke, as heedlesse of that stower,
Stood still a while, and his fast footing kept,
Till, feeling life to fayle, it fell, and deadly slept. 180
XXI
They which that piteous spectacle beheld
Were much amaz’d the headlesse tronke to see
Stand up so long, and weapon vaine to weld,
Unweeting of the Fates divine decree
For lifes succession in those brethren three. 185
For notwithstanding that one soule was reft,
Yet, had the bodie not dismembred bee,
It would have lived, and revived eft;
But finding no fit seat, the lifelesse corse it left.
XXII
It left; but that same soule which therein dwelt, 19
0
Streight entring into Triamond, him fild
With double life and griefe; which when he felt,
As one whose inner parts had bene ythrild
With point of steele, that close his hartbloud spild,
He lightly lept out of his place of rest, 195
And rushing forth into the emptie field,
Against Cambello fiercely him addrest;
Who him affronting soone to fight was readie prest.
XXIII
Well mote ye wonder how that noble knight,
After he had so often wounded beene, 200
Could stand on foot now to renew the fight.
But had ye then him forth advauncing seene,
Some newborne wight ye would him surely weene,
So fresh he seemed and so fierce in sight;
Like as a snake, whom wearie winters teene 205
Hath worne to nought, now feeling sommers might,
Casts off his ragged skin and freshly doth him dight.
XXIV
All was through vertue of the ring he wore,
The which not onely did not from him let
One drop of bloud to fall, but did restore 210
His weakned powers, and dulled spirits whet,
Through working of the stone therein yset.
Else how could one of equall might with most,
Against so many no lesse mightie met,
Once thinke to match three such on equall cost, 215
Three such as able were to match a puissant host?
XXV
Yet nought thereof was Triamond adredde,
Ne desperate of glorious victorie,
But sharpely him assayld, and sore bestedde,
With heapes of strokes, which he at him let flie 220
As thicke as hayle forth poured from the skie:
He stroke, he soust, he foynd, he hewd, he lasht,
And did his yron brond so fast applie,
That from the same the fierie sparkles flasht,
As fast as water-sprinkles gainst a rocke are dasht. 225
XXVI
Much was Cambello daunted with his blowes,
So thicke they fell, and forcibly were sent,
That he was forst from daunger of the throwes
Backe to retire, and somewhat to relent,
Till th’ heat of his fierce furie he had spent: 230
Which when for want of breath gan to abate,
He then afresh with new encouragement
Did him assayle, and mightily amate,
As fast as forward erst, now backward to retrate.
XXVII
Like as the tide, that comes fro th’ ocean mayne, 235
Flowes up the Shenan with contrarie forse,
And overruling him in his owne rayne,
Drives backe the current of his kindly course,
And makes it seeme to have some other sourse:
But when the floud is spent, then backe againe, 240
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