Complete Works of Edmund Spenser

by Edmund Spenser

  XXXVIII

  The whiles his guilefull groome was fled away:

  But vaine it was to thinke from him to flie. 335

  Who overtaking him did disaray,

  And all his face deform’d with infamie,

  And out of court him scourged openly.

  So ought all faytours, that true knighthood shame,

  And armes dishonour with base villanie, 340

  From all brave knights be banisht with defame:

  For oft their lewdnes blotteth good deserts with blame.

  XXXIX

  Now when these counterfeits were thus uncased

  Out of the foreside of their forgerie,

  And in the sight of all men cleane disgraced, 345

  All gan to jest and gibe full merilie

  At the remembrance of their knaverie.

  Ladies can laugh at ladies, knights at knights,

  To thinke with how great vaunt of braverie

  He them abused, through his subtill slights, 350

  And what a glorious shew he made in all their sights.

  XL

  There leave we them in pleasure and repast

  Spending their joyous dayes and gladfull nights,

  And taking usurie of time forepast,

  With all deare delices and rare delights, 355

  Fit for such ladies and such lovely knights:

  And turne we here to this faire furrowes end

  Our wearie yokes, to gather fresher sprights,

  That, when as time to Artegall shall tend,

  We on his first adventure may him forward send. 360

  Faerie Queene Detailed Table of Contents

  Glossary for ‘The Faerie Queene’

  Canto IV

  Artegall dealeth right betwixt

  Two brethren that doe strive;

  Saves Terpine from the gallow tree,

  And doth from death reprive.

  I

  WHO so upon him selfe will take the skill

  True justice unto people to divide,

  Had neede have mightie hands, for to fulfill

  That which he doth with righteous doome decide,

  And for to maister wrong and puissant pride. 5

  For vaine it is to deeme of things aright,

  And makes wrong doers justice to deride,

  Unlesse it be perform’d with dreadlesse might:

  For powre is the right hand of Justice truely hight.

  II

  Therefore whylome to knights of great emprise 10

  The charge of Justice given was in trust,

  That they might execute her judgements wise,

  And with their might beat downe licentious lust,

  Which proudly did impugne her sentence just.

  Whereof no braver president this day 15

  Remaines on earth, preserv’d from yron rust

  Of rude oblivion, and long times decay,

  Then this of Artegall, which here we have to say.

  III

  Who, having lately left that lovely payre,

  Enlincked fast in wedlockes loyall bond, 20

  Bold Marinell with Florimell the fayre,

  With whom great feast and goodly glee he fond,

  Departed from the Castle of the Strond,

  To follow his adventures first intent,

  Which long agoe he taken had in hond: 25

  Ne wight with him for his assistance went,

  But that great yron groome, his gard and government.

  IV

  With whom as he did passe by the sea shore,

  He chaunst to come whereas two comely squires,

  Both brethren, whom one wombe together bore, 30

  But stirred up with different desires,

  Together strove, and kindled wrathfull fires:

  And them beside two seemely damzels stood,

  By all meanes seeking to asswage their ires,

  Now with faire words; but words did little good, 35

  Now with sharpe threats; but threats the more increast their mood.

  V

  And there before them stood a coffer strong,

  Fast bound on every side with iron bands,

  But seeming to have suffred mickle wrong,

  Either by being wreckt uppon the sands, 40

  Or being carried farre from forraine lands.

  Seem’d that for it these squires at ods did fall,

  And bent against them selves their cruell hands.

  But evermore, those damzels did forestall

  Their furious encounter, and their fiercenesse pall. 45

  VI

  But firmely fixt they were, with dint of sword

  And battailes doubtfull proofe their rights to try,

  Ne other end their fury would afford,

  But what to them fortune would justify.

  So stood they both in readinesse, thereby 50

  To joyne the combate with cruell intent;

  When Artegall arriving happily,

  Did stay a while their greedy bickerment,

  Till he had questioned the cause of their dissent.

  VII

  To whom the elder did this aunswere frame: 55

  ‘Then weete ye, sir, that we two brethren be,

  To whom our sire, Milesio by name,

  Did equally bequeath his lands in fee,

  Two ilands, which ye there before you see

  Not farre in sea; of which the one appeares 60

  But like a little mount of small degree;

  Yet was as great and wide ere many yeares,

  As that same other isle, that greater bredth now beares.

  VIII

  ‘But tract of time, that all things doth decay,

  And this devouring sea, that naught doth spare, 65

  The most part of my land hath washt away,

  And throwne it up unto my brothers share:

  So his encreased, but mine did empaire.

  Before which time I lov’d, as was my lot,

  That further mayd, hight Philtera the faire, 70

  With whom a goodly doure I should have got,

  And should have joyned bene to her in wedlocks knot.

  IX

  ‘Then did my younger brother Amidas

  Love that same other damzell, Lucy bright,

  To whom but little dowre allotted was; 75

  Her vertue was the dowre that did delight.

  What better dowre can to a dame be hight?

  But now when Philtra saw my lands decay,

  And former livelod fayle, she left me quight,

  And to my brother did ellope streight way: 80

  Who, taking her from me, his owne love left astray.

  X

  ‘She seeing then her selfe forsaken so,

  Through dolorous despaire, which she conceyved,

  Into the sea her selfe did headlong throw,

  Thinking to have her griefe by death bereaved. 85

  But see how much her purpose was deceaved.

  Whilest thus amidst the billowes beating of her

  Twixt life and death, long to and fro she weaved,

  She chaunst unwares to light uppon this coffer,

  Which to her in that daunger hope of life did offer. 90

  XI

  ‘The wretched mayd, that earst desir’d to die,

  When as the paine of death she tasted had,

  And but halfe seene his ugly visnomie,

  Gan to repent that she had beene so mad,

  For any death to chaunge life, though most bad: 95

  And catching hold of this sea-beaten chest,

  The lucky pylot of her passage sad,

  After long tossing in the seas distrest,

  Her weary barke at last uppon mine isle did rest.

  XII

  ‘Where I, by chaunce then wandring on the shore, 100

  Did her espy, and through my good endevour

  From dreadfull mouth of death, which threatned sore

  Her to have sw
allow’d up, did helpe to save her.

  She then, in recompence of that great favour

  Which I on her bestowed, bestowed on me 105

  The portion of that good which fortune gave her,

  Together with her selfe in dowry free;

  Both goodly portions, but of both the better she.

  XIII

  ‘Yet in this coffer, which she with her brought,

  Great threasure sithence we did finde contained; 110

  Which as our owne we tooke, and so it thought.

  But this same other damzell since hath fained,

  That to her selfe that threasure appertained;

  And that she did transport the same by sea,

  To bring it to her husband new ordained, 115

  But suffred cruell shipwracke by the way.

  But whether it be so or no, I can not say.

  XIV

  ‘But whether it indeede be so or no,

  This doe I say, that what so good or ill

  Or God or Fortune unto me did throw, 120

  Not wronging any other by my will,

  I hold mine owne, and so will hold it still.

  And though my land he first did winne away,

  And then my love (though now it little skill)

  Yet my good lucke he shall not likewise pray; 125

  But I will it defend, whilst ever that I may.’

  XV

  So having sayd, the younger did ensew:

  ‘Full true it is, what so about our land

  My brother here declared hath to you:

  But not for it this ods twixt us doth stand, 130

  But for this threasure throwne uppon his strand;

  Which well I prove, as shall appeare by triall,

  To be this maides with whom I fastned hand,

  Known by good markes and perfect good espiall,

  Therefore it ought be rendred her without deniall.’ 135

  XVI

  When they thus ended had, the knight began:

  ‘Certes your strife were easie to accord,

  Would ye remit it to some righteous man.’

  ‘Unto your selfe,’ said they, ‘we give our word,

  To bide what judgement ye shall us afford.’ 140

  ‘Then for assuraunce to my doome to stand,

  Under my foote let each lay downe his sword,

  And then you shall my sentence understand.’

  So each of them layd downe his sword out of his hand.

  XVII

  Then Artegall thus to the younger sayd: 145

  ‘Now tell me, Amidas, if that ye may,

  Your brothers land, the which the sea hath layd

  Unto your part, and pluckt from his away,

  By what good right doe you withhold this day?’

  ‘What other right,’ quoth he, ‘should you esteeme, 150

  But that the sea it to my share did lay?’

  ‘Your right is good,’ sayd he, ‘and so I deeme,

  That what the sea unto you sent your own should seeme.’

  XVIII

  Then turning to the elder thus he sayd:

  ‘Now, Bracidas, let this likewise be showne: 155

  Your brothers threasure, which from him is strayd,

  Being the dowry of his wife well knowne,

  By what right doe you claime to be your owne?’

  ‘What other right,’ quoth he, ‘should you esteeme,

  But that the sea hath it unto me throwne?’ 160

  ‘Your right is good,’ sayd he, ‘and so I deeme,

  That what the sea unto you sent your own should seeme.

  XIX

  ‘For equall right in equall things doth stand;

  For what the mighty sea hath once possest,

  And plucked quite from all possessors hand, 165

  Whether by rage of waves, that never rest,

  Or else by wracke, that wretches hath distrest,

  He may dispose by his imperiall might,

  As thing at randon left, to whom he list.

  So, Amidas, the land was yours first hight, 170

  And so the threasure yours is, Bracidas, by right.’

  XX

  When he his sentence thus pronounced had,

  Both Amidas and Philtra were displeased:

  But Bracidas and Lucy were right glad,

  And on the threasure by that judgement seased. 175

  So was their discord by this doome appeased,

  And each one had his right. Then Artegall,

  When as their sharpe contention he had ceased,

  Departed on his way, as did befall,

  To follow his old quest, the which him forth did call. 180

  XXI

  So as he travelled uppon the way,

  He chaunst to come, where happily he spide

  A rout of many people farre away;

  To whom his course he hastily applide,

  To weete the cause of their assemblaunce wide. 185

  To whom when he approched neare in sight,

  (An uncouth sight) he plainely then descride

  To be a troupe of women warlike dight,

  With weapons in their hands, as ready for to fight.

  XXII

  And in the midst of them he saw a knight, 190

  With both his hands behinde him pinnoed hard,

  And round about his necke an halter tight,

  As ready for the gallow tree prepard:

  His face was covered, and his head was bar’d,

  That who he was uneath was to descry; 195

  And with full heavy heart with them he far’d,

  Griev’d to the soule, and groning inwardly,

  That he of womens hands so base a death should dy.

  XXIII

  But they like tyrants, mercilesse the more,

  Rejoyced at his miserable case, 200

  And him reviled, and reproched sore

  With bitter taunts, and termes of vile disgrace.

  Now when as Artegall, arriv’d in place,

  Did aske what cause brought that man to decay,

  They round about him gan to swarme apace, 205

  Meaning on him their cruell hands to lay,

  And to have wrought unwares some villanous assay.

  XXIV

  But he was soone aware of their ill minde,

  And drawing backe deceived their intent;

  Yet though him selfe did shame on womankinde 210

  His mighty hand to shend, he Talus sent

  To wrecke on them their follies hardyment:

  Who with few sowces of his yron flale

  Dispersed all their troupe incontinent,

  And sent them home to tell a piteous tale 215

  Of their vaine prowesse turned to their proper bale.

  XXV

  But that same wretched man, ordaynd to die,

  They left behind them, glad to be so quit:

  Him Talus tooke out of perplexitie,

  And horrour of fowle death for knight unfit, 220

  Who more then losse of life ydreaded it;

  And him restoring unto living light,

  So brought unto his lord, where he did sit,

  Beholding all that womanish weake fight;

  Whom soone as he beheld, he knew, and thus behight: 225

  XXVI

  ‘Sir Turpine, haplesse man, what make you here?

  Or have you lost your selfe and your discretion,

  That ever in this wretched case ye were?

  Or have ye yeelded you to proude oppression

  Of womens powre, that boast of mens subjection? 230

  Or else what other deadly dismall day

  Is falne on you, by heavens hard direction,

  That ye were runne so fondly far astray,

  As for to lead your selfe unto your owne decay?’

  XXVII

  Much was the man confounded in his mind, 235

  Partly with shame, and partly with dismay,

  That all astonisht he
him selfe did find,

  And little had for his excuse to say,

  But onely thus: ‘Most haplesse well ye may

  Me justly terme, that to this shame am brought, 240

  And made the scorne of knighthod this same day.

  But who can scape what his owne fate hath wrought?

  The worke of heavens will surpasseth humaine thought.’

  XXVIII

  ‘Right true: but faulty men use oftentimes

  To attribute their folly unto fate, 245

  And lay on heaven the guilt of their owne crimes.

  But tell, Sir Terpin, ne let you amate

  Your misery, how fell ye in this state?’

  ‘Then sith ye needs,’ quoth he, ‘will know my shame,

  And all the ill which chaunst to me of late, 250

  I shortly will to you rehearse the same,

  In hope ye will not turne misfortune to my blame.

  XXIX

  ‘Being desirous (as all knights are woont)

  Through hard adventures deedes of armes to try,

  And after fame and honour for to hunt, 255

  I heard report that farre abrode did fly,

  That a proud Amazon did late defy

  All the brave knights that hold of Maidenhead,

  And unto them wrought all the villany

  That she could forge in her malicious head, 260

  Which some hath put to shame, and many done be dead.

  XXX

  ‘The cause, they say, of this her cruell hate,

  Is for the sake of Bellodant the bold,

  To whom she bore most fervent love of late,

  And wooed him by all the waies she could: 265

  But when she saw at last, that he ne would

  For ought or nought be wonne unto her will,

  She turn’d her love to hatred manifold,

  And for his sake vow’d to doe all the ill

  Which she could doe to knights; which now she doth fulfill. 270

  XXXI

  ‘For all those knights, the which by force or guile

  She doth subdue, she fowly doth entreate.

  First she doth them of warlike armes despoile,

  And cloth in womens weedes: and then with threat

  Doth them compell to worke, to earne their meat, 275

  To spin, to card, to sew, to wash, to wring;

  Ne doth she give them other thing to eat,

  But bread and water, or like feeble thing,

  Them to disable from revenge adventuring.

  XXXII

  ‘But if through stout disdaine of manly mind, 280

  Any her proud observaunce will withstand,

  Uppon that gibbet, which is there behind,

  She causeth them be hang’d up out of hand;

  In which condition I right now did stand.

  For being overcome by her in fight, 285

  And put to that base service of her band,