Complete Works of Edmund Spenser

by Edmund Spenser

  To faire accordaunce, and both faults to shade,

  Either embracing other lovingly,

  And swearing faith to either on his blade,

  Never thenceforth to nourish enmity, 125

  But either others cause to maintaine mutually.

  XV

  Then Artegall gan of the Prince enquire,

  What were those knights, which there on ground were layd,

  And had receiv’d their follies worthy hire,

  And for what cause they chased so that mayd. 130

  ‘Certes, I wote not well,’ the Prince then sayd,

  ‘But by adventure found them faring so,

  As by the way unweetingly I strayd,

  And lo the damzell selfe, whence all did grow,

  Of whom we may at will the whole occasion know.’ 135

  XVI

  Then they that damzell called to them nie,

  And asked her, what were those two her fone,

  From whom she earst so fast away did flie;

  And what was she her selfe so woe begone,

  And for what cause pursu’d of them attone. 140

  To whom she thus: ‘Then wote ye well, that I

  Doe serve a queene, that not far hence doth wone,

  A princesse of great powre and majestie,

  Famous through all the world, and honor’d far and nie.

  XVII

  ‘Her name Mercilla most men use to call; 145

  That is a mayden queene of high renowne,

  For her great bounty knowen over all,

  And soveraine grace, with which her royall crowne

  She doth support, and strongly beateth downe

  The malice of her foes, which her envy, 150

  And at her happinesse do fret and frowne:

  Yet she her selfe the more doth magnify,

  And even to her foes her mercies multiply.

  XVIII

  ‘Mongst many which maligne her happy state,

  There is a mighty man, which wonnes here by, 155

  That with most fell despight and deadly hate

  Seekes to subvert her crowne and dignity,

  And all his powre doth thereunto apply:

  And her good knights, of which so brave a band

  Serves her as any princesse under sky, 160

  He either spoiles, if they against him stand,

  Or to his part allures, and bribeth under hand.

  XIX

  ‘Ne him sufficeth all the wrong and ill,

  Which he unto her people does each day,

  But that he seekes by traytrous traines to spill 165

  Her person, and her sacred selfe to slay:

  That, O ye heavens, defend, and turne away

  From her unto the miscreant him selfe,

  That neither hath religion nor fay,

  But makes his god of his ungodly pelfe, 170

  And idols serves; so let his idols serve the elfe.

  XX

  ‘To all which cruell tyranny, they say,

  He is provokt, and stird up day and night

  By his bad wife, that hight Adicia,

  Who counsels him, through confidence of might, 175

  To breake all bonds of law and rules of right.

  For she her selfe professeth mortall foe

  To Justice, and against her still doth fight,

  Working to all that love her deadly woe,

  And making all her knights and people to doe so. 180

  XXI

  ‘Which my liege lady seeing, thought it best,

  With that his wife in friendly wise to deale,

  For stint of strife and stablishment of rest

  Both to her selfe and to her common weale,

  And all forepast displeasures to repeale. 185

  So me in message unto her she sent,

  To treat with her, by way of enterdeale,

  Of finall peace and faire attonement,

  Which might concluded be by mutuall consent.

  XXII

  ‘All times have wont safe passage to afford 190

  To messengers that come for causes just:

  But this proude dame, disdayning all accord,

  Not onely into bitter termes forth brust,

  Reviling me, and rayling as she lust,

  But lastly, to make proofe of utmost shame, 195

  Me like a dog she out of dores did thrust,

  Miscalling me by many a bitter name,

  That never did her ill, ne once deserved blame.

  XXIII

  ‘And lastly, that no shame might wanting be,

  When I was gone, soone after me she sent 200

  These two false knights, whom there ye lying see,

  To be by them dishonoured and shent:

  But thankt be God, and your good hardiment,

  They have the price of their owne folly payd.’

  So said this damzell, that hight Samient, 205

  And to those knights, for their so noble ayd,

  Her selfe most gratefull shew’d, and heaped thanks repayd.

  XXIV

  But they now having throughly heard, and seene

  Al those great wrongs, the which that mayd complained

  To have bene done against her lady queene 210

  By that proud dame, which her so much disdained,

  Were moved much thereat, and twixt them fained

  With all their force to worke avengement strong

  Uppon the Souldan selfe, which it mayntained,

  And on his lady, th’ author of that wrong, 215

  And uppon all those knights that did to her belong.

  XXV

  But thinking best by counterfet disguise

  To their deseigne to make the easier way,

  They did this complot twixt them selves devise:

  First, that Sir Artegall should him array 220

  Like one of those two knights which dead there lay;

  And then that damzell, the sad Samient,

  Should as his purchast prize with him convay

  Unto the Souldans court, her to present

  Unto his scornefull lady, that for her had sent. 225

  XXVI

  So as they had deviz’d, Sir Artegall

  Him clad in th’ armour of a Pagan knight,

  And taking with him, as his vanquisht thrall,

  That damzell, led her to the Souldans right.

  Where soone as his proud wife of her had sight, 230

  Forth of her window as she looking lay,

  She weened streight it was her Paynim knight,

  Which brought that damzell as his purchast pray;

  And sent to him a page, that mote direct his way.

  XXVII

  Who bringing them to their appointed place, 235

  Offred his service to disarme the knight;

  But he refusing him to let unlace,

  For doubt to be discovered by his sight,

  Kept himselfe still in his straunge armour dight.

  Soone after whom the Prince arrived there, 240

  And sending to the Souldan in despight

  A bold defyance, did of him requere

  That damzell, whom he held as wrongfull prisonere.

  XXVIII

  Wherewith the Souldan all with furie fraught,

  Swearing and banning most blasphemously, 245

  Commaunded straight his armour to be brought,

  And mounting straight upon a charret hye,

  (With yron wheeles and hookes arm’d dreadfully,

  And drawne of cruell steedes, which he had fed

  With flesh of men, whom through fell tyranny 250

  He slaughtred had, and ere they were halfe ded,

  Their bodies to his beasts for provender did spred,)

  XXIX

  So forth he came, all in a cote of plate,

  Burnisht with bloudie rust; whiles on the greene

  The Briton Prince him readie did awayte, 255

  In glistering armes ri
ght goodly well beseene,

  That shone as bright as doth the heaven sheene;

  And by his stirrup Talus did attend,

  Playing his pages part, as he had beene

  Before directed by his lord; to th’ end 260

  He should his flale to finall execution bend.

  XXX

  Thus goe they both together to their geare,

  With like fieroe minds, but meanings different:

  For the proud Souldan, with presumpteous cheare,

  And countenance sublime and insolent, 265

  Sought onely slaughter and avengement:

  But the brave Prince for honour and for right,

  Gainst tortious powre and lawlesse regiment,

  In the behalfe of wronged weake did fight:

  More in his causes truth he trusted then in might. 270

  XXXI

  Like to the Thracian tyrant, who, they say,

  Unto his horses gave his guests for meat,

  Till he himselfe was made their greedie pray,

  And torne in peeces by Alcides great:

  So thought the Souldan in his follies threat, 275

  Either the Prince in peeces to have torne

  With his sharpe wheeles, in his first rages heat,

  Or under his fierce horses feet have borne,

  And trampled downe in dust his thoughts disdained scorne.

  XXXII

  But the bold child that perill well espying, 280

  If he too rashly to his charet drew,

  Gave way unto his horses speedie flying,

  And their resistlesse rigour did eschew.

  Yet, as he passed by, the Pagan threw

  A shivering dart with so impetuous force, 285

  That, had he not it shun’d with heedfull vew,

  It had himselfe transfixed, or his horse,

  Or made them both one masse withouten more remorse.

  XXXIII

  Oft drew the Prince unto his charret nigh,

  In hope some stroke to fasten on him neare; 290

  But he was mounted in his seat so high,

  And his wingfooted coursers him did beare

  So fast away, that ere his readie speare

  He could advance, he farre was gone and past.

  Yet still he him did follow every where, 295

  And followed was of him likewise full fast,

  So long as in his steedes the flaming breath did last.

  XXXIV

  Againe the Pagan threw another dart,

  Of which he had with him abundant store,

  On every side of his embatteld cart, 300

  And of all other weapons lesse or more,

  Which warlike uses had deviz’d of yore.

  The wicked shaft, guyded through th’ ayrie wyde

  By some bad spirit, that it to mischiefe bore,

  Stayd not, till through his curat it did glyde, 305

  And made a griesly wound in his enriven side.

  XXXV

  Much was he grieved with that haplesse throe,

  That opened had the welspring of his blood;

  But much the more that to his hatefull foe

  He mote not come, to wreake his wrathfull mood. 310

  That made him rave, like to a lyon wood,

  Which, being wounded of the huntsmans hand,

  Can not come neare him in the covert wood,

  Where he with boughes hath built his shady stand,

  And fenst himselfe about with many a flaming brand. 315

  XXXVI

  Still when he sought t’ approch unto him ny,

  His charret wheeles about him whirled round,

  And made him backe againe as fast to fly;

  And eke his steedes, like to an hungry hound,

  That hunting after game hath carrion found, 320

  So cruelly did him pursew and chace,

  That his good steed, all were he much renound

  For noble courage and for hardie race,

  Durst not endure their sight, but fled from place to place.

  XXXVII

  Thus long they trast and traverst to and fro, 325

  Seeking by every way to make some breach,

  Yet could the Prince not nigh unto him goe,

  That one sure stroke he might unto him reach,

  Whereby his strengthes assay he might him teach.

  At last from his victorious shield he drew 330

  The vaile which did his powrefull light empeach;

  And comming full before his horses vew,

  As they upon him prest, it plaine to them did shew.

  XXXVIII

  Like lightening flash, that hath the gazer burned,

  So did the sight thereof their sense dismay, 335

  That backe againe upon themselves they turned,

  And with their ryder ranne perforce away:

  Ne could the Souldan them from flying stay

  With raynes, or wonted rule, as well he knew.

  Nought feared they what he could do or say, 340

  But th’ onely feare that was before their vew;

  From which, like mazed deare, dismayfully they flew.

  XXXIX

  Fast did they fly as them their feete could beare,

  High over hilles, and lowly over dales,

  As they were follow’d of their former feare. 345

  In vaine the Pagan bannes, and sweares, and rayles,

  And backe with both his hands unto him hayles

  The resty raynes, regarded now no more:

  He to them calles and speakes, yet nought avayles;

  They heare him not, they have forgot his lore, 350

  But go which way they list; their guide they have forlore.

  XL

  As when the firie-mouthed steeds, which drew

  The sunnes bright wayne to Phaetons decay,

  Soone as they did the monstrous Scorpion vew,

  With ugly craples crawling in their way, 355

  The dreadfull sight did them so sore affray,

  That their well knowen courses they forwent,

  And leading th’ ever-burning lampe astray,

  This lower world nigh all to ashes brent,

  And left their scorched path yet in the firmament. 360

  XLI

  Such was the furie of these head-strong steeds,

  Soone as the infants sunlike shield they saw,

  That all obedience both to words and deeds

  They quite forgot, and scornd all former law:

  Through woods, and rocks, and mountaines they did draw 365

  The yron charet, and the wheeles did teare,

  And tost the Paynim, without feare or awe;

  From side to side they tost him here and there,

  Crying to them in vaine, that nould his crying heare.

  XLII

  Yet still the Prince pursew’d him close behind, 370

  Oft making offer him to smite, but found

  No easie meanes according to his mind.

  At last they have all overthrowne to ground,

  Quite topside turvey, and the Pagan hound

  Amongst the yron hookes and graples keene 375

  Torne all to rags, and rent with many a wound,

  That no whole peece of him was to be seene,

  But scattred all about, and strow’d upon the greene.

  XLIII

  Like as the cursed sonne of Theseus,

  That, following his chace in dewy morne, 380

  To fly his stepdames loves outrageous,

  Of his owne steedes was all to peeces torne,

  And his faire limbs left in the woods forlorne;

  That for his sake Diana did lament,

  And all the wooddy nymphes did wayle and mourne: 385

  So was this Souldan rapt and all to-rent,

  That of his shape appear’d no litle moniment.

  XLIV

  Onely his shield and armour, which there lay,

  Though nothing whole, but all to
-brusd and broken,

  He up did take, and with him brought away, 390

  That mote remaine for an eternall token

  To all mongst whom this storie should be spoken,

  How worthily, by Heavens high decree,

  Justice that day of wrong her selfe had wroken,

  That all men which that spectacle did see, 395

  By like ensample mote for ever warned bee.

  XLV

  So on a tree, before the tyrants dore,

  He caused them be hung in all mens sight,

  To be a moniment for evermore.

  Which when his ladie from the castles hight 400

  Beheld, it much appald her troubled spright:

  Yet not, as women wont, in dolefull fit

  She was dismayd, or faynted through affright,

  But gathered unto her her troubled wit,

  And gan eftsoones devize to be aveng’d for it. 405

  XLVI

  Streight downe she ranne, like an enraged cow,

  That is berobbed of her youngling dere,

  With knife in hand, and fatally did vow

  To wreake her on that mayden messengere,

  Whom she had causd be kept as prisonere 410

  By Artegall, misween’d for her owne knight,

  That brought her backe. And comming present there,

  She at her ran with all her force and might,

  All flaming with revenge and furious despight.

  XLVII

  Like raging Ino, when with knife in hand 415

  She threw her husbands murdred infant out;

  Or fell Medea, when on Colchicke strand

  Her brothers bones she scattered all about;

  Or as that madding mother, mongst the rout

  Of Bacchus priests, her owne deare flesh did teare. 420

  Yet neither Ino, nor Medea stout,

  Nor all the Mœnades so furious were,

  As this bold woman, when she saw that damzell there.

  XLVIII

  But Artegall, being thereof aware,

  Did stay her cruell hand, ere she her raught, 425

  And as she did her selfe to strike prepare,

  Out of her fist the wicked weapon caught:

  With that, like one enfelon’d or distraught,

  She forth did rome, whether her rage her bore,

  With franticke passion and with furie fraught; 430

  And breaking forth out at a posterne dore,

  Unto the wyld ranne, her dolours to deplore.

  XLIX

  As a mad bytch, when as the franticke fit

  Her burning tongue with rage inflamed hath,

  Doth runne at randon, and with furious bit 435

  Snatching at every thing, doth wreake her wrath

  On man and beast that commeth in her path.

  There they doe say that she transformed was

  Into a tygre, and that tygres scath

  In crueltie and outrage she did pas, 440

  To prove her surname true, that she imposed has.