Unto the prison, where her hart did thrall remaine.
LII
There all her subtill nets she did unfold, 460
And all the engins of her wit display;
In which she meant him warelesse to enfold,
And of his innocence to make her pray.
So cunningly she wrought her crafts assay,
That both her ladie, and her selfe withall, 465
And eke the knight attonce she did betray:
But most the knight, whom she with guilefull call
Did cast for to allure, into her trap to fall.
LIII
As a bad nurse, which, fayning to receive
In her owne mouth the food ment for her chyld, 470
Withholdes it to her selfe, and doeth deceive
The infant, so for want of nourture spoyld:
Even so Clarinda her owne dame beguyld,
And turn’d the trust which was in her affyde
To feeding of her private fire, which boyld 475
Her inward brest, and in her entrayles fryde,
The more that she it sought to cover and to hyde.
LIV
For comming to this knight, she purpose fayned,
How earnest suit she earst for him had made
Unto her queene, his freedome to have gayned; 480
But by no meanes could her thereto perswade:
But that, in stead thereof, she sternely bade
His miserie to be augmented more,
And many yron bands on him to lade;
All which nathlesse she for his love forbore: 485
So praying him t’ accept her service evermore.
LV
And more then that, she promist that she would,
In case she might finde favour in his eye,
Devize how to enlarge him out of hould.
The Fayrie, glad to gaine his libertie, 490
Can yeeld great thankes for such her curtesie;
And with faire words, fit for the time and place,
To feede the humour of her maladie,
Promist, if she would free him from that case,
He wold, by all good means he might, deserve such grace. 495
LVI
So daily he faire semblant did her shew,
Yet never meant he in his noble mind,
To his owne absent love to be untrew:
Ne ever did deceiptfull Clarin find
In her false hart, his bondage to unbind; 500
But rather how she mote him faster tye.
Therefore unto her mistresse most unkind
She daily told, her love he did defye,
And him she told, her dame his freedome did denye.
LVII
Yet thus much friendship she to him did show, 505
That his scarse diet somewhat was amended,
And his worke lessened, that his love mote grow:
Yet to her dame him still she discommended,
That she with him mote be the more offended.
Thus he long while in thraldome there remayned, 510
Of both beloved well, but litle frended;
Untill his owne true love his freedome gayned,
Which in an other canto will be best contayned.
Faerie Queene Detailed Table of Contents
Glossary for ‘The Faerie Queene’
Canto VI
Talus brings newes to Britomart
Of Artegals mishap:
She goes to seeke him, Dolon meetes,
Who seekes her to entrap.
I
SOME men, I wote, will deeme in Artegall
Great weaknesse, and report of him much ill,
For yeelding so himselfe a wretched thrall
To th’ insolent commaund of womens will;
That all his former praise doth fowly spill. 5
But he the man, that say or doe so dare,
Be well adviz’d that he stand stedfast still:
For never yet was wight so well aware,
But he at first or last was trapt in womens snare.
II
Yet in the streightnesse of that captive state, 10
This gentle knight himselfe so well behaved,
That notwithstanding all the subtill bait,
With which those Amazons his love still craved,
To his owne love his loialtie he saved:
Whose character in th’ adamantine mould 15
Of his true hart so firmely was engraved,
That no new loves impression ever could
Bereave it thence: such blot his honour blemish should.
III
Yet his owne love, the noble Britomart,
Scarse so conceived in her jealous thought, 20
What time sad tydings of his balefull smart
In womans bondage Talus to her brought
Brought in untimely houre, ere it was sought.
For after that the utmost date, assynde
For his returne, she waited had for nought, 25
She gan to cast in her misdoubtfull mynde
A thousand feares, that love-sicke fancies faine to fynde.
IV
Sometime she feared, least some hard mishap
Had him misfalne in his adventurous quest;
Sometime least his false foe did him entrap 30
In traytrous traine, or had unwares opprest:
But most she did her troubled mynd molest,
And secretly afflict with jealous feare,
Least some new love had him from her possest;
Yet loth she was, since she no ill did heare, 35
To thinke of him so ill: yet could she not forbeare.
V
One while she blam’d her selfe; another whyle
She him condemn’d, as trustlesse and untrew:
And then, her griefe with errour to beguyle,
She fayn’d to count the time againe anew, 40
As if before she had not counted trew.
For houres but dayes; for weekes, that passed were,
She told but moneths, to make them seeme more few:
Yet when she reckned them, still drawing neare,
Each hour did seeme a moneth, and every moneth a yeare. 45
VI
But when as yet she saw him not returne,
She thought to send some one to seeke him out;
But none she found so fit to serve that turne,
As her owne selfe, to ease her selfe of dout.
Now she deviz’d, amongst the warlike rout 50
Of errant knights, to seeke her errant knight;
And then againe resolv’d to hunt him out
Amongst loose ladies, lapped in delight:
And then both knights envide, and ladies eke did spight.
VII
One day, when as she long had sought for ease 55
In every place, and every place thought best,
Yet found no place that could her liking please,
She to a window came, that opened west,
Towards which coast her love his way addrest.
There looking forth, shee in her heart did find 60
Many vaine fancies, working her unrest;
And sent her winged thoughts, more swift then wind,
To beare unto her love the message of her mind.
VIII
There as she looked long, at last she spide
One comming towards her with hasty speede: 65
Well weend she then, ere him she plaine descride,
That it was one sent from her love indeede.
Who when he nigh approcht, shee mote arede
That it was Talus, Artegall his groome;
Whereat her heart was fild with hope and drede; 70
Ne would she stay till he in place could come,
But ran to meete him forth, to know his tidings somme.
IX
Even in the dore him meeting, she begun:
‘And where is he thy lord, and how far hen
ce?
Declare at once; and hath he lost or wun?’ 75
The yron man, albe he wanted sence
And sorrowes feelings, yet with conscience
Of his ill newes, did inly chill and quake,
And stood still mute, as one in great suspence,
As if that by his silence he would make 80
Her rather reade his meaning, then him selfe it spake.
X
Till she againe thus sayd: ‘Talus, be bold,
And tell what ever it be, good or bad,
That from thy tongue thy hearts intent doth hold.’
To whom he thus at length: ‘The tidings sad, 85
That I would hide, will needs, I see, be rad.
My lord, your love, by hard mishap doth lie
In wretched bondage, wofully bestad.’
‘Ay me,’ quoth she, ‘what wicked destinie!
And is he vanquisht by his tyrant enemy?’ 90
XI
‘Not by that tyrant, his intended foe;
But by a tyrannesse,’ he then replide,
‘That him captived hath in haplesse woe.’
‘Cease, thou bad newes-man; badly doest thou hide
Thy maisters shame, in harlots bondage tide. 95
The rest my selfe too readily can spell.’
With that in rage she turn’d from him aside,
Forcing in vaine the rest to her to tell,
And to her chamber went like solitary cell.
XII
There she began to make her monefull plaint 100
Against her knight, for being so untrew;
And him to touch with falshoods fowle at-taint,
That all his other honour overthrew.
Oft did she blame her selfe, and often rew,
For yeelding to a straungers love so light, 105
Whose life and manners straunge she never knew;
And evermore she did him sharpely twight
For breach of faith to her, which he had firmely plight.
XIII
And then she in her wrathfull will did cast,
How to revenge that blot of honour blent; 110
To fight with him, and goodly die her last:
And then againe she did her selfe torment,
Inflicting on her selfe his punishment.
A while she walkt, and chauft; a while she threw
Her selfe uppon her bed, and did lament: 115
Yet did she not lament with loude alew,
As women wont, but with deepe sighes, and singulfs few.
XIV
Like as a wayward childe, whose sounder sleepe
Is broken with some fearefull dreames affright,
With froward will doth set him selfe to weepe; 120
Ne can be stild for all his nurses might,
But kicks, and squals, and shriekes for fell despight;
Now scratching her, and her loose locks misusing;
Now seeking darkenesse, and now seeking light;
Then craving sucke, and then the sucke refusing: 125
Such was this ladies, fit, in her loves fond accusing.
XV
But when she had with such unquiet fits
Her selfe there close afflicted long in vaine,
Yet found no easement in her troubled wits,
She unto Talus forth return’d againe, 130
By change of place seeking to ease her paine;
And gan enquire of him, with mylder, mood,
The certaine cause of Artegals detaine;
And what he did, and in what state he stood,
And whether he did woo, or whether he were woo’d. 135
XVI
‘Ah wellaway!’ sayd then the yron man,
‘That he is not the while in state to woo;
But lies in wretched thraldome, weake and wan,
Not by strong hand compelled thereunto,
But his owne doome, that none can now undoo.’ 140
‘Sayd I not then,’ quoth shee, ‘erwhile aright,
That this is thinge compacte betwixt you two,
Me to deceive of faith unto me plight,
Since that he was not forst, nor overcome in fight?’
XVII
With that he gan at large to her dilate 145
The whole discourse of his captivance sad,
In sort as ye have heard the same of late.
All which when she with hard enduraunce had
Heard to the end, she was right sore bestad,
With sodaine stounds of wrath and griefe attone: 150
Ne would abide, till she had aunswere made,
But streight her selfe did dight, and armor don;
And mounting to her steede, bad Talus guide her on.
XVIII
So forth she rode uppon her ready way,
To seeke her knight, as Talus her did guide: 155
Sadly she rode, and never word did say,
Nor good nor bad, ne ever lookt aside,
But still right downe, and in her thought did hide
The felnesse of her heart, right fully bent
To fierce avengement of that womans pride, 160
Which had her lord in her base prison pent,
And so great honour with so fowle reproch had blent.
XIX
So as she thus melancholicke did ride,
Chawing the cud of griefe and inward paine,
She chaunst to meete toward the even-tide 165
A knight, that softly paced on the plaine,
As if him selfe to solace he were faine.
Well shot in yeares he seem’d, and rather bent
To peace, then needlesse trouble to constraine;
As well by view of that his vestiment, 170
As by his modest semblant, that no evill ment.
XX
He, comming neare, gan gently her salute
With curteous words, in the most comely wize;
Who though desirous rather to rest mute,
Then termes to entertaine of common guize, 175
Yet rather then she kindnesse would despize,
She would her selfe displease, so him requite.
Then gan the other further to devize
Of things abrode, as next to hand did light,
And many things demaund, to which she answer’d light. 180
XXI
For little lust had she to talke of ought,
Or ought to heare, that mote delightfull bee;
Her minde was whole possessed of one thought,
That gave none other place. Which when as hee
By outward signes (as well he might) did see, 185
He list no lenger to use lothfull speach,
But her besought to take it well in gree,
Sith shady dampe had dimd the heavens reach,
To lodge with him that night, unles good cause empeach.
XXII
The championesse, now seeing night at dore, 190
Was glad to yeeld unto his good request:
And with him went without gaine-saying more.
Not farre away, but little wide by west,
His dwelling was, to which he him addrest;
Where soone arriving, they received were 195
In seemely wise, as them beseemed best:
For he their host them goodly well did cheare,
And talk’t of pleasant things, the night away to weare.
XXIII
Thus passing th’ evening well, till time of rest,
Then Britomart unto a bowre was brought; 200
Where groomes awayted her to have undrest.
But she ne would undressed be for ought,
Ne doffe her armes, though he her much besought.
For she had vow’d, she sayd, not to forgo
Those warlike weedes, till she revenge had wrought 205
Of a late wrong uppon a mortall foe;
Which she would sure performe, betide her wele or wo.
XXIV
&nbs
p; Which when their host perceiv’d, right discontent
In minde he grew, for feare least by that art
He should his purpose misse, which close he ment: 210
Yet taking leave of her, he did depart.
There all that night remained Britomart,
Restlesse, recomfortlesse, with heart deepe grieved,
Not suffering the least twinckling sleepe to start
Into her eye, which th’ heart mote have relieved, 215
But if the least appear’d, her eyes she streight reprieved.
XXV
‘Ye guilty eyes,’ sayd she, ‘the which with guyle
My heart at first betrayd, will ye betray
My life now to, for which a little whyle
Ye will not watch? False watches, well-away! 220
I wote when ye did watch both night and day
Unto your losse: and now needes will ye sleepe?
Now ye have made my heart to wake alway,
Now will ye sleepe? ah! wake, and rather weepe,
To thinke of your nights want, that should yee waking keepe.’ 225
XXVI
Thus did she watch, and weare the weary night
In waylfull plaints, that none was to appease;
Now walking soft, now sitting still upright,
As sundry chaunge her seemed best to ease.
Ne lesse did Talus suffer sleepe to seaze 230
His eye-lids sad, but watcht continually,
Lying without her dore in great disease;
Like to a spaniell wayting carefully,
Least any should betray his lady treacherously.
XXVII
What time the native belman of the night, 235
The bird that warned Peter of his fall,
First rings his silver bell t’ each sleepy wight,
That should their mindes up to devotion call,
She heard a wondrous noise below the hall.
All sodainely the bed, where she should lie, 240
By a false trap was let adowne to fall
Into a lower roome, and by and by
The loft was raysd againe, that no man could it spie.
XXVIII
With sight whereof she was dismayd right sore,
Perceiving well the treason which was ment: 245
Yet stirred not at all for doubt of more,
But kept her place with courage confident,
Wayting what would ensue of that event.
It was not long before she heard the sound
Of armed men, comming with close intent 250
Towards her chamber; at which dreadfull stound
She quickly caught her sword, and shield about her bound.
XXIX
With that there came unto her chamber dore
Two knights, all armed ready for to fight,
And after them full many other more, 255
A raskall rout, with weapons rudely dight.
Whom soone as Talus spide by glims of night,
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