There he her found in sorrow and dismay,
All solitarie without living wight;
For all her other children, through affray, 165
Had hid themselves, or taken further flight:
And eke her selfe through sudden strange affright,
When one in armes she saw, began to fly;
But when her owne two sonnes she had in sight,
She gan take hart, and looke up joyfully: 170
For well she wist this knight came succour to supply:
XX
And running unto them with greedy joyes,
Fell straight about their neckes, as they did kneele,
And bursting forth in teares, ‘Ah! my sweet boyes,’
Sayd she, ‘yet now I gin new life to feele, 175
And feeble spirits, that gan faint and reele,
Now rise againe at this your joyous sight.
Alreadie seemes that Fortunes headlong wheele
Begins to turne, and sunne to shine more bright
Then it was wont, through comfort of this noble knight.’ 180
XXI
Then turning unto him, ‘And you, sir knight,’
Said she, ‘that taken have this toylesome paine
For wretched woman, miserable wight,
May you in heaven immortall guerdon gaine
For so great travell as you doe sustaine: 185
For other meede may hope for none of mee,
To whom nought else but bare life doth remaine;
And that so wretched one, as ye do see,
Is liker lingring death then loathed life to bee.’
XXII
Much was he moved with her piteous plight, 190
And low dismounting from his loftie steede,
Gan to recomfort her all that he might,
Seeking to drive away deepe rooted dreede,
With hope of helpe in that her greatest neede.
So thence he wished her with him to wend, 195
Unto some place where they mote rest and feede,
And she take comfort, which God now did send:
Good hart in evils doth the evils much amend.
XXIII
‘Ay me!’ sayd she, ‘and whether shall I goe?
Are not all places full of forraine powres? 200
My pallaces possessed of my foe,
My cities sackt, and their sky-threating towres
Raced, and made smooth fields now full of flowres?
Onely these marishes and myrie bogs,
In which the fearefull ewftes do build their bowres, 205
Yeeld me an hostry mongst the croking frogs,
And harbour here in safety from those ravenous dogs.’
XXIV
‘Nathlesse,’ said he, ‘deare ladie, with me goe;
Some place shall us receive, and harbour yield;
If not, we will it force, maugre your foe, 210
And purchase it to us with speare and shield:
And if all fayle, yet farewell open field:
The Earth to all her creatures lodging lends.’
With such his chearefull speaches he doth wield
Her mind so well, that to his will she bends, 215
And bynding up her locks and weeds, forth with him wends.
XXV
They came unto a citie farre up land,
The which whylome that ladies owne had bene;
But now by force extort out of her hand
By her strong foe, who had defaced cleene 220
Her stately towres and buildings sunny sheene,
Shut up her haven, mard her marchants trade,
Robbed her people, that full rich had beene,
And in her necke a castle huge had made,
The which did her commaund, without needing perswade. 225
XXVI
That castle was the strength of all that state,
Untill that state by strength was pulled downe,
And that same citie, so now ruinate,
Had bene the keye of all that kingdomes crowne;
Both goodly castle, and both goodly towne, 230
Till that th’ offended Heavens list to lowre
Upon their blisse, and balefull Fortune frowne.
When those gainst states and kingdomes do conjure,
Who then can thinke their hedlong ruine to recure?
XXVII
But he had brought it now in servile bond, 235
And made it beare the yoke of Inquisition,
Stryving long time in vaine it to withstond;
Yet glad at last to make most base submission,
And life enjoy for any composition.
So now he hath new lawes and orders new 240
Imposd on it, with many a hard condition,
And forced it the honour that is dew
To God to doe unto his idole most untrew.
XXVIII
To him he hath, before this castle greene,
Built a faire chappell, and an altar framed 245
Of costly ivory, full rich beseene,
On which that cursed idole, farre proclamed,
He hath set up, and him his god hath named,
Offring to him in sinfull sacrifice
The flesh of men, to Gods owne likenesse framed, 250
And powring forth their bloud in brutishe wize,
That any yron eyes to see it would agrize.
XXIX
And for more horror and more crueltie,
Under that cursed idols altar stone
An hideous monster doth in darknesse lie, 255
Whose dreadfull shape was never seene of none
That lives on earth, but unto those alone
The which unto him sacrificed bee.
Those he devoures, they say, both flesh and bone:
What else they have is all the tyrants fee; 260
So that no whit of them remayning one may see.
XXX
There eke he placed a strong garrisone,
And set a seneschall of dreaded might,
That by his powre oppressed every one,
And vanquished all ventrous knights in fight; 265
To whom he wont shew all the shame he might,
After that them in battell he had wonne.
To which when now they gan approch in sight,
The ladie counseld him the place to shonne,
Whereas so many knights had fouly bene fordonne. 270
XXXI
Her fearefull speaches nought he did regard,
But ryding streight under the castle wall,
Called aloud unto the watchfull ward,
Which there did wayte, willing them forth to call
Into the field their tyrants seneschall. 275
To whom when tydings thereof came, he streight
Cals for his armes, and arming him withall,
Eftsoones forth pricked proudly in his might,
And gan with courage fierce addresse him to the fight.
XXXII
They both encounter in the middle plaine, 280
And their sharpe speares doe both together smite
Amid their shields, with so huge might and maine,
That seem’d their soules they wold have ryven quight
Out of their breasts, with furious despight.
Yet could the seneschals no entrance find 285
Into the Princes shield, where it empight,
So pure the mettall was, and well refynd,
But shivered all about, and scattered in the wynd.
XXXIII
Not so the Princes, but with restlesse force
Into his shield it readie passage found, 290
Both through his haberjeon and eke his corse:
Which tombling downe upon the senselesse ground,
Gave leave unto his ghost from thraldome bound,
To wander in the griesly shades of night.
There did the Prince him leave in deadly swound, 295
And thence unto the castle march
ed right,
To see if entrance there as yet obtaine he might.
XXXIV
But as he nigher drew, three knights he spyde,
All arm’d to point, issuing forth a pace,
Which towards him with all their powre did ryde, 300
And meeting him right in the middle race,
Did all their speares attonce on him enchace.
As three great culverings for battrie bent,
And leveld all against one certaine place,
Doe all attonce their thunders rage forth rent, 305
That makes the wals to stagger with astonishment.
XXXV
So all attonce they on the Prince did thonder;
Who from his saddle swarved nought asyde,
Ne to their force gave way, that was great wonder,
But like a bulwarke firmely did abyde, 310
Rebutting him which in the midst did ryde,
With so huge rigour, that his mortall speare
Past through his shield, and pierst through either syde,
That downe he fell uppon his mother deare,
And powred forth his wretched life in deadly dreare. 315
XXXVI
Whom when his other fellowes saw, they fled
As fast as feete could carry them away;
And after them the Prince as swiftly sped,
To be aveng’d of their unknightly play.
There whilest they, entring, th’ one did th’ other stay, 320
The hindmost in the gate he overhent,
And as he pressed in, him there did slay:
His carkasse, tumbling on the threshold, sent
His groning soule unto her place of punishment.
XXXVII
The other, which was entred, laboured fast 325
To sperre the gate; but that same lumpe of clay,
Whose grudging ghost was thereout fled and past,
Right in the middest of the threshold lay,
That it the posterne did from closing stay:
The whiles the Prince hard preased in betweene, 330
And entraunce wonne. Streight th’ other fled away,
And ran into the hall, where he did weene
Him selfe to save: but he there slew him at the skreene.
XXXVIII
Then all the rest which in that castle were,
Seeing that sad ensample them before, 335
Durst not abide, but fled away for feare,
And them convayd out at a posterne dore.
Long sought the Prince, but when he found no more
T’ oppose against his powre, he forth issued
Unto that lady, where he her had lore, 340
And her gan cheare with what she there had vewed,
And what she had not seene within unto her shewed.
XXXIX
Who with right humble thankes him goodly greeting,
For so great prowesse as he there had proved,
Much greater then was ever in her weeting, 345
With great admiraunce inwardly was moved,
And honourd him with all that her behoved.
Thenceforth into that castle he her led,
With her two sonnes, right deare of her beloved,
Where all that night them selves they cherished, 350
And from her balefull minde all care he banished.
Faerie Queene Detailed Table of Contents
Glossary for ‘The Faerie Queene’
Canto XI
Prince Arthure overcomes the great
Gerioneo in fight:
Doth slay the monster, and restore
Belge unto her right.
I
IT often fals in course of common life,
That right long time is overborne of wrong,
Through avarice, or powre, or guile, or strife,
That weakens her, and makes her party strong:
But Justice, though her dome she doe prolong, 5
Yet at the last she will her owne cause right:
As by sad Belge seemes, whose wrongs though long
She suffred, yet at length she did requight,
And sent redresse thereof by this brave Briton knight.
II
Whereof when newes was to that tyrant brought, 10
How that the Lady Belge now had found
A champion, that had with his champion fought,
And laid his seneschall low on the ground,
And eke him selfe did threaten to confound,
He gan to burne in rage, and friese in feare, 15
Doubting sad end of principle unsound:
Yet sith he heard but one that did appeare,
He did him selfe encourage, and take better cheare.
III
Nathelesse him selfe he armed all in hast,
And forth he far’d with all his many bad, 20
Ne stayed step, till that he came at last
Unto the castle which they conquerd had.
There with huge terrour, to be more ydrad,
He sternely marcht before the castle gate,
And with bold vaunts and ydle threatning bad 25
Deliver him his owne, ere yet too late,
To which they had no right, nor any wrongfull state.
IV
The Prince staid not his aunswere to devize,
But opening streight the sparre, forth to him came,
Full nobly mounted in right warlike wize; 30
And asked him, if that he were the same,
Who all that wrong unto that wofull dame
So long had done, and from her native land
Exiled her, that all the world spake shame.
He boldly aunswerd him, he there did stand 35
That would his doings justifie with his owne hand.
V
With that so furiously at him he flew,
As if he would have overrun him streight,
And with his huge great yron axe gan hew
So hideously uppon his armour bright, 40
As he to peeces would have chopt it quight:
That the bold Prince was forced foote to give
To his first rage, and yeeld to his despight;
The whilest at him so dreadfully he drive,
That seem’d a marble rocke asunder could have rive. 45
VI
Thereto a great advauntage eke he has
Through his three double hands thrise multiplyde,
Besides the double strength which in them was:
For stil when fit occasion did betyde,
He could his weapon shift from side to syde, 50
From hand to hand, and with such nimblesse sly
Could wield about, that ere it were espide,
The wicked stroke did wound his enemy,
Behinde, beside, before, as he it list apply.
VII
Which uncouth use when as the Prince perceived, 55
He gan to watch the wielding of his hand,
Least by such slight he were unwares deceived;
And ever ere he saw the stroke to land,
He would it meete and warily withstand.
One time, when he his weapon faynd to shift, 60
As he was wont, and chang’d from hand to hand,
He met him with a counterstroke so swift,
That quite smit off his arme, as he it up did lift.
VIII
Therewith, all fraught with fury and disdaine,
He brayd aloud for very fell despight, 65
And sodainely t’ avenge him selfe againe,
Gan into one assemble all the might
Of all his hands, and heaved them on hight,
Thinking to pay him with that one for all:
But the sad steele seizd not, where it was hight, 70
Uppon the childe, but somewhat short did fall,
And lighting on his horses head, him quite did mall.
IX
Downe streight to ground fell his astonisht st
eed,
And eke to th’ earth his burden with him bare:
But he him selfe full lightly from him freed, 75
And gan him selfe to fight on foote prepare.
Whereof when as the gyant was aware,
He wox right blyth, as he had got thereby,
And laught so loud, that all his teeth wide bare
One might have seene enraung’d disorderly, 80
Like to a rancke of piles, that pitched are awry.
X
Eftsoones againe his axe he raught on hie,
Ere he were throughly buckled to his geare,
And can let drive at him so dreadfullie,
That had he chaunced not his shield to reare, 85
Ere that huge stroke arrived on him neare,
He had him surely cloven quite in twaine.
But th’ adamantine shield which he did beare
So well was tempred, that, for all his maine,
It would no passage yeeld unto his purpose vaine. 90
XI
Yet was the stroke so forcibly applide,
That made him stagger with uncertaine sway,
As if he would have tottered to one side.
Wherewith full wroth, he fiercely gan assay
That curt’sie with like kindnesse to repay; 95
And smote at him with so importune might,
That two more of his armes did fall away,
Like fruitlesse braunches, which the hatchets slight
Hath pruned from the native tree, and cropped quight.
XII
With that all mad and furious he grew, 100
Like a fell mastiffe through enraging heat,
And curst, and band, and blasphemies forth threw
Against his gods, and fire to them did threat,
And hell unto him selfe with horrour great.
Thenceforth he car’d no more which way he strooke, 105
Nor where it light, but gan to chaufe and sweat,
And gnasht his teeth, and his head at him shooke,
And sternely him beheld with grim and ghastly looke.
XIII
Nought fear’d the childe his lookes, ne yet his threats,
But onely wexed now the more aware, 110
To save him selfe from those his furious heats,
And watch advauntage, how to worke his care;
The which good fortune to him offred faire.
For as he in his rage him overstrooke,
He, ere he could his weapon backe repaire, 115
His side all bare and naked overtooke,
And with his mortal steel quite throgh the body strooke.
XIV
Through all three bodies he him strooke attonce,
That all the three attonce fell on the plaine:
Else should he thrise have needed for the nonce 120
Them to have stricken, and thrise to have slaine.
So now all three one sencelesse lumpe remaine,
Enwallow’d in his owne blacke bloudy gore,
Complete Works of Edmund Spenser Page 102
