Complete Works of Edmund Spenser

by Edmund Spenser

  This day as I in solace sate hereby 240

  With a fayre love, whose losse I now do rew,

  There came this knight, having in companie

  This lucklesse ladie, which now here doth headlesse lie.

  XVII

  ‘He, whether mine seem’d fayrer in his eye,

  Or that he wexed weary of his owne, 245

  Would change with me; but I did it denye;

  So did the ladies both, as may be knowne:

  But he, whose spirit was with pride upblowne,

  Would not so rest contented with his right,

  But having from his courser her downe throwne, 250

  Fro me reft mine away by lawlesse might,

  And on his steed her set, to beare her out of sight.

  XVIII

  ‘Which when his ladie saw, she follow’d fast,

  And on him catching hold, gan loud to crie

  Not so to leave her, nor away to cast, 255

  But rather of his hand besought to die.

  With that his sword he drew all wrathfully,

  And at one stroke cropt off her head with scorne,

  In that same place whereas it now doth lie.

  So he my love away with him hath borne, 260

  And left me here, both his and mine owne love to morne.’

  XIX

  ‘Aread,’ sayd he, ‘which way then did he make?

  And by what markes may he be knowne againe?’

  ‘To hope,’ quoth he, ‘him soone to overtake,

  That hence so long departed, is but vaine: 265

  But yet he pricked over yonder plaine,

  And as I marked, bore upon his shield,

  By which it’s easie him to know againe,

  A broken sword within a bloodie field;

  Expressing well his nature, which the same did wield.’ 270

  XX

  No sooner sayd, but streight he after sent

  His yron page, who him pursew’d so light,

  As that it seem’d above the ground he went:

  For he was swift as swallow in her flight,

  And strong as lyon in his lordly might. 275

  It was not long before he overtooke

  Sir Sanglier (so cleeped was that knight);

  Whom at the first he ghessed by his looke,

  And by the other markes which of his shield he tooke.

  XXI

  He bad him stay, and backe with him retire; 280

  Who, full of scorne to be commaunded so,

  The lady to alight did eft require,

  Whilest he reformed that uncivill fo:

  And streight at him with all his force did go.

  Who mov’d no more therewith, then when a rocke 285

  Is lightly stricken with some stones throw;

  But to him leaping, lent him such a knocke,

  That on the ground he layd him like a sencelesse blocke.

  XXII

  But ere he could him selfe recure againe,

  Him in his iron paw he seized had; 290

  That when he wak’t out of his warelesse paine,

  He found him selfe, unwist, so ill bestad,

  That lim he could not wag. Thence he him lad,

  Bound like a beast appointed to the stall:

  The sight whereof the lady sore adrad, 295

  And fain’d to fly for feare of being thrall;

  But he her quickly stayd, and forst to wend withall.

  XXIII

  When to the place they came, where Artegall

  By that same carefull squire did then abide,

  He gently gan him to demaund of all, 300

  That did betwixt him and that squire betide.

  Who with sterne countenance and indignant pride

  Did aunswere, that of all he guiltlesse stood,

  And his accuser thereuppon defide:

  For neither he did shed that ladies bloud, 305

  Nor tooke away his love, but his owne proper good.

  XXIV

  Well did the squire perceive him selfe too weake,

  To aunswere his defiaunce in the field,

  And rather chose his challenge off to breake,

  Then to approve his right with speare and shield, 310

  And rather guilty chose him selfe to yield.

  But Artegall by signes perceiving plaine

  That he it was not which that lady kild,

  But that strange knight, the fairer love to gaine,

  Did cast about by sleight the truth thereout to straine; 315

  XXV

  And sayd: ‘Now sure this doubtfull causes right

  Can hardly but by sacrament be tride,

  Or else by ordele, or by blooddy fight;

  That ill perhaps mote fall to either side.

  But if ye please that I your cause decide, 320

  Perhaps I may all further quarrell end,

  So ye will sweare my judgement to abide.’

  Thereto they both did franckly condiscend,

  And to his doome with listfull eares did both attend.

  XXVI

  ‘Sith then,’ sayd he, ‘ye both the dead deny, 325

  And both the living lady claime your right,

  Let both the dead and living equally

  Devided be betwixt you here in sight,

  And each of either take his share aright.

  But looke, who does dissent from this my read, 330

  He for a twelve moneths day shall in despight

  Beare for his penaunce that same ladies head;

  To witnesse to the world that she by him is dead.’

  XXVII

  Well pleased with that doome was Sangliere,

  And offred streight the lady to be slaine. 335

  But that same squire, to whom she was more dere,

  When as he saw she should be cut in twaine,

  Did yield, she rather should with him remaine

  Alive, then to him selfe be shared dead;

  And rather then his love should suffer paine, 340

  He chose with shame to beare that ladies head.

  True love despiseth shame, when life is cald in dread.

  XXVIII

  Whom when so willing Artegall perceaved,

  ‘Not so, thou squire,’ he sayd, ‘but thine I deeme

  The living lady, which from thee he reaved: 345

  For worthy thou of her doest rightly seeme.

  And you, sir knight, that love so light esteeme,

  As that ye would for little leave the same,

  Take here your owne, that doth you best beseeme,

  And with it beare the burden of defame; 350

  Your owne dead ladies head, to tell abrode your shame.’

  XXIX

  But Sangliere disdained much his doome,

  And sternly gan repine at his beheast;

  Ne would for ought obay, as did become,

  To beare that ladies head before his breast: 355

  Untill that Talus had his pride represt,

  And forced him, maulgre, it up to reare.

  Who when he saw it bootelesse to resist,

  He tooke it up, and thence with him did beare,

  As rated spaniell takes his burden up for feare. 360

  XXX

  Much did that squire Sir Artegall adore,

  For his great justice, held in high regard;

  And as his squire him offred evermore

  To serve, for want of other meete reward,

  And wend with him on his adventure hard. 365

  But he thereto would by no meanes consent;

  But leaving him, forth on his journey far’d:

  Ne wight with him but onely Talus went;

  They two enough t’ encounter an whole regiment.

  Faerie Queene Detailed Table of Contents

  Glossary for ‘The Faerie Queene’

  Canto II

  Artegall heares of Florimell;

  Does with the Pagan fight:

  Him slaies, drownes
Lady Munera,

  Does race her castle quight.

  I

  NOUGHT is more honorable to a knight,

  Ne better doth beseeme brave chevalry,

  Then to defend the feeble in their right,

  And wrong redresse in such as wend awry.

  Whilome those great heroes got thereby 5

  Their greatest glory, for their rightfull deedes,

  And place deserved with the gods on hy.

  Herein the noblesse of this knight exceedes,

  Who now to perils great for justice sake proceedes.

  II

  To which as he now was uppon the way, 10

  He chaunst to meet a dwarfe in hasty course;

  Whom he requir’d his forward hast to stay,

  Till he of tidings mote with him discourse.

  Loth was the dwarfe, yet did he stay perforse,

  And gan of sundry newes his store to tell, 15

  As to his memory they had recourse:

  But chiefely of the fairest Florimell,

  How she was found againe, and spousde to Marinell.

  III

  For this was Dony, Florimels owne dwarfe,

  Whom having lost (as ye have heard whyleare) 20

  And finding in the way the scattred scarfe,

  The fortune of her life long time did feare.

  But of her health when Artegall did heare,

  And safe returne, he was full inly glad,

  And askt him where and when her bridale cheare 25

  Should be solemniz’d: for if time he had,

  He would be there, and honor to her spousall ad.

  IV

  ‘Within three daies,’ quoth he, ‘as I do here,

  It will be at the Castle of the Strond;

  What time, if naught me let, I will be there 30

  To doe her service, so as I am bond.

  But in my way a little here beyond

  A cursed cruell Sarazin doth wonne,

  That keepes a bridges passage by strong hond,

  And many errant knights hath there fordonne; 35

  That makes all men for feare that passage for to shonne.’

  V

  ‘What mister wight,’ quoth he, ‘and how far hence

  Is he, that doth to travellers such harmes?’

  ‘He is,’ said he, ‘a man of great defence;

  Expert in battell and in deedes of armes; 40

  And more emboldned by the wicked charmes,

  With which his daughter doth him still support;

  Having great lordships got and goodly farmes,

  Through strong oppression of his powre extort;

  By which he stil them holds, and keepes with strong effort. 45

  VI

  ‘And dayly he his wrongs encreaseth more;

  For never wight he lets to passe that way,

  Over his bridge, albee he rich or poore,

  But he him makes his passage-penny pay:

  Else he doth hold him backe or beat away. 50

  Thereto he hath a groome of evill guize,

  Whose scalp is bare, that bondage doth bewray,

  Which pols and pils the poore in piteous wize;

  But he him selfe uppon the rich doth tyrannize.

  VII

  ‘His name is hight Pollente, rightly so, 55

  For that he is so puissant and strong,

  That with his powre he all doth overgo,

  And makes them subject to his mighty wrong;

  And some by sleight he eke doth underfong:

  For on a bridge he custometh to fight, 60

  Which is but narrow, but exceeding long;

  And in the same are many trap fals pight,

  Through which the rider downe doth fall through oversight.

  VIII

  ‘And underneath the same a river flowes,

  That is both swift and dangerous deepe withall; 65

  Into the which whom so he overthrowes,

  All destitute of helpe doth headlong fall;

  But he him selfe, through practise usuall,

  Leapes forth into the floud, and there assaies

  His foe confused through his sodaine fall, 70

  That horse and man he equally dismaies,

  And either both them drownes, or trayterously slaies.

  IX

  ‘Then doth he take the spoile of them at will,

  And to his daughter brings, that dwels thereby:

  Who all that comes doth take, and therewith fill 75

  The coffers of her wicked threasury;

  Which she with wrongs hath heaped up so hy,

  That many princes she in wealth exceedes,

  And purchast all the countrey lying ny

  With the revenue of her plenteous meedes: 80

  Her name is Munera, agreeing with her deedes.

  X

  ‘Thereto she is full faire, and rich attired,

  With golden hands and silver feete beside,

  That many lords have her to wife desired:

  But she them all despiseth for great pride.’ 85

  ‘Now by my life,’ sayd he, ‘and God to guide,

  None other way will I this day betake,

  But by that bridge, whereas he doth abide:

  Therefore me thither lead.’ No more he spake,

  But thitherward forthright his ready way did make. 90

  XI

  Unto the place he came within a while,

  Where on the bridge he ready armed saw

  The Sarazin, awayting for some spoile.

  Who as they to the passage gan to draw,

  A villaine to them came with scull all raw, 95

  That passage money did of them require,

  According to the custome of their law.

  To whom he aunswerd wroth, ‘Loe! there thy hire;’

  And with that word him strooke, that streight he did expire.

  XII

  Which when the Pagan saw, he wexed wroth, 100

  And streight him selfe unto the fight addrest,

  Ne was Sir Artegall behinde: so both

  Together ran with ready speares in rest.

  Right in the midst, whereas they brest to brest

  Should meete, a trap was letten downe to fall 105

  Into the floud: streight leapt the carle unblest,

  Well weening that his foe was falne withall:

  But he was well aware, and leapt before his fall.

  XIII

  There being both together in the floud,

  They each at other tyrannously flew; 110

  Ne ought the water cooled their whot bloud,

  But rather in them kindled choler new.

  But there the Paynim, who that use well knew

  To fight in water, great advantage had,

  That oftentimes him nigh he overthrew: 115

  And eke the courser whereuppon he rad

  Could swim like to a fish, whiles he his backe bestrad.

  XIV

  Which oddes when as Sir Artegall espide,

  He saw no way but close with him in hast;

  And to him driving strongly downe the tide, 120

  Uppon his iron coller griped fast,

  That with the straint his wesand nigh he brast.

  There they together strove and struggled long,

  Either the other from his steede to cast;

  Ne ever Artegall his griple strong 125

  For any thing wold slacke, but still uppon him hong.

  XV

  As when a dolphin and a sele are met

  In the wide champian of the ocean plaine:

  With cruell chaufe their courages they whet,

  The maysterdome of each by force to gaine, 130

  And dreadfull battaile twixt them do darraine:

  They snuf, they snort, they bounce, they rage, they rore,

  That all the sea, disturbed with their traine,

  Doth frie with fome above the surges hore:

  Such was betwixt these two
the troublesome uprore. 135

  XVI

  So Artegall at length him forst forsake

  His horses backe, for dread of being drownd,

  And to his handy swimming him betake.

  Eftsoones him selfe he from his hold unbownd,

  And then no ods at all in him he fownd: 140

  For Artegall in swimming skilfull was,

  And durst the depth of any water sownd.

  So ought each knight, that use of perill has,

  In swimming be expert, through waters force to pas.

  XVII

  Then very doubtfull was the warres event, 145

  Uncertaine whether had the better side:

  For both were skild in that experiment,

  And both in armes well traind and throughly tride.

  But Artegall was better breath’d beside,

  And towards th’ end grew greater in his might, 150

  That his faint foe no longer could abide

  His puissance, ne beare him selfe upright,

  But from the water to the land betooke his flight.

  XVIII

  But Artegall pursewd him still so neare,

  With bright Chrysaor in his cruell hand, 155

  That, as his head he gan a litle reare

  Above the brincke, to tread upon the land,

  He smote it off, that tumbling on the strand

  It bit the earth for very fell despight,

  And gnashed with his teeth, as if he band 160

  High God, whose goodnesse he despaired quight,

  Or curst the hand which did that vengeance on him dight.

  XIX

  His corps was carried downe along the lee,

  Whose waters with his filthy bloud it stayned:

  But his blasphemous head, that all might see, 165

  He pitcht upon a pole on high ordayned;

  Where many years it afterwards remayned,

  To be a mirrour to all mighty men,

  In whose right hands great power is contayned,

  That none of them the feeble overren, 170

  But alwaies doe their powre within just compasse pen.

  XX

  That done, unto the castle he did wend,

  In which the Paynims daughter did abide,

  Guarded of many which did her defend:

  Of whom he entrance sought, but was denide, 175

  And with reprochfull blasphemy defide,

  Beaten with stones downe from the battilment,

  That he was forced to withdraw aside;

  And bad his servant Talus to invent

  Which way he enter might without endangerment. 180

  XXI

  Eftsoones his page drew to the castle gate,

  And with his iron flale at it let flie,

  That all the warders it did sore amate,

  The which erewhile spake so reprochfully,

  And made them stoupe, that looked earst so hie. 185

  Yet still he bet and bounst uppon the dore,