Complete Works of Edmund Spenser

by Edmund Spenser

  And by him brought againe to Faerie Land;

  Where he her spous’d, and made his joyous bride.

  The time and place was blazed farre and wide,

  And solemne feasts and giusts ordain’d therefore. 15

  To which there did resort from every side

  Of lords and ladies infinite great store;

  Ne any knight was absent, that brave courage bore.

  III

  To tell the glorie of the feast that day,

  The goodly service, the devicefull sights, 20

  The bridegromes state, the brides most rich aray,

  The pride of ladies, and the worth of knights,

  The royall banquets, and the rare delights

  Were worke fit for an herauld, not for me:

  But for so much as to my lot here lights, 25

  That with this present treatise doth agree,

  True vertue to advance, shall here recounted bee.

  IV

  When all men had with full satietie

  Of meates and drinkes their appetites suffiz’d,

  To deedes of armes and proofe of chevalrie 30

  They gan themselves addresse, full rich aguiz’d,

  As each one had his furnitures deviz’d.

  And first of all issu’d Sir Marinell,

  And with him sixe knights more, which enterpriz’d

  To chalenge all in right of Florimell, 35

  And to maintaine that she all others did excell.

  V

  The first of them was hight Sir Orimont,

  A noble knight, and tride in hard assayes;

  The second had to name Sir Bellisont,

  But second unto none in prowesse prayse; 40

  The third was Brunell, famous in his dayes;

  The fourth Ecastor, of exceeding might;

  The fift Armeddan, skild in lovely layes;

  The sixt was Lansack, a redoubted knight:

  All sixe well seene in armes, and prov’d in many a fight. 45

  VI

  And them against came all that list to giust,

  From every coast and countrie under sunne:

  None was debard, but all had leave that lust.

  The trompets sound; then all together ronne.

  Full many deedes of armes that day were donne, 50

  And many knights unhorst, and many wounded,

  As fortune fell; yet litle lost or wonne:

  But all that day the greatest prayse redounded

  To Marinell, whose name the heralds loud resounded.

  VII

  The second day, so soone as morrow light 55

  Appear’d in heaven, into the field they came,

  And there all day continew’d cruell fight,

  With divers fortune fit for such a game,

  In which all strove with perill to winne fame.

  Yet whether side was victor note be ghest: 60

  But at the last the trompets did proclame

  That Marinell that day deserved best.

  So they disparted were, and all men went to rest.

  VIII

  The third day came, that should due tryall lend

  Of all the rest, and then this warlike crew 65

  Together met, of all to make an end.

  There Marinell great deeds of armes did shew;

  And through the thickest like a lyon flew,

  Rashing off helmes, and ryving plates a sonder,

  That every one his daunger did eschew. 70

  So terribly his dreadfull strokes did thonder,

  That all men stood amaz’d, and at his might did wonder.

  IX

  But what on earth can alwayes happie stand?

  The greater prowesse greater perils find.

  So farre he past amongst his enemies band, 75

  That they have him enclosed so behind,

  As by no meanes he can himselfe outwind.

  And now perforce they have him prisoner taken;

  And now they doe with captive bands him bind;

  And now they lead him thence, of all forsaken, 80

  Unlesse some succour had in time him overtaken.

  X

  It fortun’d whylest they were thus ill beset,

  Sir Artegall into the tilt-yard came,

  With Braggadochio, whom he lately met

  Upon the way, with that his snowy dame. 85

  Where when he understood by common fame

  What evill hap to Marinell betid,

  He much was mov’d at so unworthie shame,

  And streight that boaster prayd, with whom he rid,

  To change his shield with him, to be the better hid. 90

  XI

  So forth he went, and soone them over hent,

  Where they were leading Marinell away;

  Whom he assayld with dreadlesse hardiment,

  And forst the burden of their prize to stay.

  They were an hundred knights of that array; 95

  Of which th’ one halfe upon himselfe did set,

  The other stayd behind to gard the pray.

  But he ere long the former fiftie bet;

  And from the other fiftie soone the prisoner fet.

  XII

  So backe he brought Sir Marinell againe; 100

  Whom having quickly arm’d againe anew,

  They both together joyned might and maine,

  To set afresh on all the other crew.

  Whom with sore havocke soone they overthrew,

  And chaced quite out of the field, that none 105

  Against them durst his head to perill shew.

  So were they left lords of the field alone:

  So Marinell by him was rescu’d from his fone.

  XIII

  Which when he had perform’d, then backe againe

  To Braggadochio did his shield restore: 110

  Who all this while behind him did remaine,

  Keeping there close with him in pretious store

  That his false ladie, as ye heard afore.

  Then did the trompets sound, and judges rose,

  And all these knights, which that day armour bore, 115

  Came to the open hall, to listen whose

  The honour of the prize should be adjudg’d by those.

  XIV

  And thether also came in open sight

  Fayre Florimell, into the common hall,

  To greet his guerdon unto every knight, 120

  And best to him to whom the best should fall.

  Then for that stranger knight they loud did call,

  To whom that day they should the girlond yield:

  Who came not forth: but for Sir Artegall

  Came Braggadochio, and did shew his shield, 125

  Which bore the sunne brode blazed in a golden field.

  XV

  The sight whereof did all with gladnesse fill:

  So unto him they did addeeme the prise

  Of all that tryumph. Then the trompets shrill

  Don Braggadochios name resounded thrise: 130

  So courage lent a cloke to cowardise.

  And then to him came fayrest Florimell,

  And goodly gan to greet his brave emprise,

  And thousand thankes him yeeld, that had so well

  Approv’d that day that she all others did excell. 135

  XVI

  To whom the boaster, that all knights did blot,

  With proud disdaine did scornefull answere make,

  That what he did that day, he did it not

  For her, but for his owne deare ladies sake,

  Whom on his perill he did undertake, 140

  Both her and eke all others to excell:

  And further did uncomely speaches crake.

  Much did his words the gentle ladie quell,

  And turn’d aside for shame to heare what he did tell.

  XVII

  Then forth he brought his snowy Florimele, 145

  Whom Trompart had in keeping there beside,

&
nbsp; Covered from peoples gazement with a vele.

  Whom when discovered they had throughly eide,

  With great amazement they were stupefide;

  And said, that surely Florimell it was, 150

  Or if it were not Florimell so tride,

  That Florimell her selfe she then did pas.

  So feeble skill of perfect things the vulgar has.

  XVIII

  Which when as Marinell beheld likewise,

  He was therewith exceedingly dismayd; 155

  Ne wist he what to thinke, or to devise,

  But, like as one whom feends had made affrayd,

  He long astonisht stood, ne ought he sayd,

  Ne ought he did, but with fast fixed eies

  He gazed still upon that snowy mayd; 160

  Whom ever as he did the more avize,

  The more to be true Florimell he did surmize.

  XIX

  As when two sunnes appeare in the azure skye,

  Mounted in Phœbus charet fierie bright,

  Both darting forth faire beames to each mans eye, 165

  And both adorn’d with lampes of flaming light,

  All that behold so strange prodigious sight,

  Not knowing Natures worke, nor what to weene,

  Are rapt with wonder and with rare affright:

  So stood Sir Marinell, when he had seene 170

  The semblant of this false by his faire beauties queene.

  XX

  All which when Artegall, who all this while

  Stood in the preasse close covered, well advewed,

  And saw that boasters pride and gracelesse guile,

  He could no longer beare, but forth issewed, 175

  And unto all himselfe there open shewed,

  And to the boaster said: ‘Thou losell base,

  That hast with borrowed plumes thy selfe endewed,

  And others worth with leasings doest deface,

  When they are all restor’d, thou shalt rest in disgrace. 180

  XXI

  ‘That shield, which thou doest beare, was it indeed,

  Which this dayes honour sav’d to Marinell;

  But not that arme, nor thou the man, I reed,

  Which didst that service unto Florimell.

  For proofe shew forth thy sword, and let it tell 185

  What strokes, what dreadfull stoure it stird this day:

  Or shew the wounds which unto thee befell;

  Or shew the sweat with which thou diddest sway

  So sharpe a battell, that so many did dismay.

  XXII

  ‘But this the sword which wrought those cruell stounds, 190

  And this the arme the which that shield did beare,

  And these the signes,’ (so shewed forth his wounds)

  ‘By which that glorie gotten doth appeare.

  As for this ladie, which he sheweth here,

  Is not (I wager) Florimell at all; 195

  But some fayre franion, fit for such a fere,

  That by misfortune in his hand did fall.’

  For proofe whereof, he bad them Florimell forth call.

  XXIII

  So forth the noble ladie was ybrought,

  Adorn’d with honor and all comely grace: 200

  Whereto her bashfull shamefastnesse ywrought

  A great increase in her faire blushing face;

  As roses did with lillies interlace.

  For of those words, the which that boaster threw,

  She inly yet conceived great disgrace. 205

  Whom when as all the people such did vew,

  They shouted loud, and signes of gladnesse all did shew.

  XXIV

  Then did he set her by that snowy one,

  Like the true saint beside the image set,

  Of both their beauties to make paragone, 210

  And triall, whether should the honor get.

  Streight way so soone as both together met,

  Th’ enchaunted damzell vanisht into nought:

  Her snowy substance melted as with heat,

  Ne of that goodly hew remayned ought, 215

  But th’ emptie girdle, which about her wast was wrought.

  XXV

  As when the daughter of Thaumantes faire

  Hath in a watry cloud displayed wide

  Her goodly bow, which paints the liquid ayre;

  That all men wonder at her colours pride; 220

  All suddenly, ere one can looke aside,

  The glorious picture vanisheth away,

  Ne any token doth thereof abide:

  So did this ladies goodly forme decay,

  And into nothing goe, ere one could it bewray. 225

  XXVI

  Which when as all that present were beheld,

  They stricken were with great astonishment,

  And their faint harts with senselesse horrour queld,

  To see the thing, that seem’d so excellent,

  So stolen from their fancies wonderment; 230

  That what of it became none understood.

  And Braggadochio selfe with dreriment

  So daunted was, in his despeyring mood,

  That like a lifelesse corse immoveable he stood.

  XXVII

  But Artegall that golden belt uptooke, 235

  The which of all her spoyle was onely left;

  Which was not hers, as many it mistooke,

  But Florimells owne girdle, from her reft,

  While she was flying, like a weary weft,

  From that foule monster which did her compell 240

  To perils great; which he unbuckling eft,

  Presented to the fayrest Florimell;

  Who round about her tender wast it fitted well.

  XXVIII

  Full many ladies often had assayd

  About their middles that faire belt to knit; 245

  And many a one suppos’d to be a mayd:

  Yet it to none of all their loynes would fit,

  Till Florimell about her fastned it.

  Such power it had, that to no womans wast

  By any skill or labour it would sit, 250

  Unlesse that she were continent and chast,

  But it would lose or breake, that many had disgrast.

  XXIX

  Whilest thus they busied were bout Florimell,

  And boastfull Braggadochio to defame,

  Sir Guyon, as by fortune then befell, 255

  Forth from the thickest preasse of people came,

  His owne good steed, which he had stolne, to clame;

  And th’ one hand seizing on his golden bit,

  With th’ other drew his sword: for with the same

  He ment the thiefe there deadly to have smit: 260

  And had he not bene held, he nought had fayld of it.

  XXX

  Thereof great hurly burly moved was

  Throughout the hall, for that same warlike horse:

  For Braggadochio would not let him pas;

  And Guyon would him algates have perforse, 265

  Or it approve upon his carrion corse.

  Which troublous stirre when Artegall perceived,

  He nigh them drew to stay th’ avengers forse,

  And gan inquire how was that steed bereaved,

  Whether by might extort, or else by slight deceaved. 270

  XXXI

  Who all that piteous storie, which befell

  About that wofull couple which were slaine,

  And their young bloodie babe, to him gantell;

  With whom whiles he did in the wood remaine,

  His horse purloyned was by subtill traine: 275

  For which he chalenged the thiefe to fight.

  But he for nought could him thereto constraine;

  For as the death he hated such despight,

  And rather had to lose, then trie in armes his right.

  XXXII

  Which Artegall well hearing, though no more 280

  By law of armes there neede ones
right to trie,

  As was the wont of warlike knights of yore,

  Then that his foe should him the field denie,

  Yet further right by tokens to descrie,

  He askt what privie tokens he did beare. 285

  ‘If that,’ said Guyon, ‘may you satisfie,

  Within his mouth a blacke spot doth appeare,

  Shapt like a horses shoe, who list to seeke it there.’

  XXXIII

  Whereof to make due tryall, one did take

  The horse in hand, within his mouth to looke: 290

  But with his heeles so sorely he him strake,

  That all his ribs he quite in peeces broke,

  That never word from that day forth he spoke.

  Another, that would seeme to have more wit,

  Him by the bright embrodered hedstall tooke: 295

  But by the shoulder him so sore he bit,

  That he him maymed quite, and all his shoulder split.

  XXXIV

  Ne he his mouth would open unto wight,

  Untill that Guyon selfe unto him spake,

  And called Brigadore (so was he hight); 300

  Whose voice so soone as he did undertake,

  Eftsoones he stood as still as any stake,

  And suffred all his secret marke to see:

  And when as he him nam’d, for joy he brake

  His bands, and follow’d him with gladfull glee, 305

  And friskt, and flong aloft, and louted low on knee.

  XXXV

  Thereby Sir Artegall did plaine areed,

  That unto him the horse belong’d, and sayd:

  ‘Lo there, Sir Guyon, take to you the steed,

  As he with golden saddle is arayd; 310

  And let that losell, plainely now displayd,

  Hence fare on foot, till he an horse have gayned.’

  But the proud boaster gan his doome upbrayd,

  And him revil’d, and rated, and disdayned,

  That judgement so unjust against him had ordayned. 315

  XXXVI

  Much was the knight incenst with his lewd word,

  To have revenged that his villeny;

  And thrise did lay his hand upon his sword,

  To have him slaine, or dearely doen aby.

  But Guyon did his choler pacify, 320

  Saying, ‘Sir knight, it would dishonour bee

  To you, that are our judge of equity,

  To wreake your wrath on such a carle as hee:

  It ‘s punishment enough, that all his shame doe see.’

  XXXVII

  So did he mitigate Sir Artegall; 325

  But Talus by the backe the boaster hent,

  And drawing him out of the open hall,

  Upon him did inflict this punishment:

  First he his beard did shave, and fowly shent;

  Then from him reft his shield, and it renverst, 330

  And blotted out his armes with falshood blent,

  And himselfe baffuld, and his armes unherst,

  And broke his sword in twaine, and all his armour sperst.