The Faerie Queene

by The Faerie Queen(Lit)

  He marching forth with fury insolent

  Against the good king Oswald, who indewd

  With heauenly powre, and by Angels reskewd,

  All holding crosses in their hands on hye,

  Shall him defeate withouten bloud imbrewd:

  Of which, that field for endlesse memory,

  Shall Heuenfield be cald to all posterity.

  Where at Cadwallin wroth, shall forth issew,

  And an huge hoste into Northumber lead,

  With which he godly Oswald shall subdew,

  And crowne with martyrdome his sacred head.

  Whose brother Oswin, daunted with like dread,

  With price of siluer shall his kingdome buy,

  And Penda, seeking him adowne to tread,

  Shall tread adowne, and do him fowly dye,

  But shall with gifts his Lord Cadwallin pacify.

  Then shall Cadwallin dye, and then the raine

  Of Britons eke with him attonce shall dye;

  Ne shall the good Cadwallader with paine,

  Or powre, be hable it to remedy,

  When the full time prefixt by destiny,

  Shalbe expird of Britons regiment.

  For heauen it selfe shall their successe enuy,

  And them with plagues and murrins pestilent

  Consume, till all their warlike puissaunce be spent.

  Yet after all these sorrowes, and huge hills

  Of dying people, during eight yeares space,

  Cadwallader not yielding to his ills,

  From Armoricke, where long in wretched cace

  He liu'd, returning to his natiue place,

  Shalbe by vision staid from his intent:

  For th'heauens haue decreed, to displace

  The Britons, for their sinnes dew punishment,

  And to the Saxons ouer-giue their gouernment.

  Then woe, and woe, and euerlasting woe,

  Be to the Briton babe, that shalbe borne,

  To liue in thraldome of his fathers foe;

  Late King, now captiue, late Lord, now forlorne,

  The worlds reproch, the cruell victors scorne,

  Banisht from Princely bowre to wastfull wood:

  O who shall helpe me to lament, and mourne

  The royall seed, the antique Troian blood,

  Whose Empire lenger here, then euer any stood.

  The Damzell was full deepe empassioned,

  Both for his griefe, and for her peoples sake,

  Whose future woes so plaine he fashioned,

  And sighing sore, at length him thus bespake;

  Ah but will heauens fury neuer slake,

  Nor vengeaunce huge relent it selfe at last?

  Will not long misery late mercy make,

  But shall their name for euer be defast,

  And quite from of th'earth their memory be rast?

  Nay but the terme (said he) is limited,

  That in this thraldome Britons shall abide,

  And the iust reuolution measured,

  That they as Straungers shalbe notifide.

  For twise foure hundreth yeares shalbe supplide,

  Ere they to former rule restor'd shalbee,

  And their importune fates all satisfide:

  Yet during this their most obscuritee,

  Their beames shall oft breake forth, that men them faire may see.

  For Rhodoricke, whose surname shalbe Great,

  Shall of him selfe a braue ensample shew,

  That Saxon kings his friendship shall intreat;

  And Howell Dha shall goodly well indew

  The saluage minds with skill of iust and trew;

  Then Griffyth Conan also shall vp reare

  His dreaded head, and the old sparkes renew

  Of natiue courage, that his foes shall feare,

  Least backe againe the kingdome he from them should beare.

  Ne shall the Saxons selues all peaceably

  Enioy the crowne, which they from Britons wonne

  First ill, and after ruled wickedly:

  For ere two hundred yeares be full outronne,

  There shall a Rauen far from rising Sunne,

  With his wide wings vpon them fiercely fly,

  And bid his faithlesse chickens ouerronne

  The fruitfull plaines, and with fell cruelty,

  In their auenge, tread downe the victours surquedry.

  Yet shall a third both these, and thine subdew;

  There shall a Lyon from the sea-bord wood

  Of Neustria come roring, with a crew

  Of hungry whelpes, his battailous bold brood,

  Whose clawes were newly dipt in cruddy blood,

  That from the Daniske Tyrants head shall rend

  Th'vsurped crowne, as if that he were wood,

  And the spoile of the countrey conquered

  Emongst his young ones shall diuide with bountyhed.

  Tho when the terme is full accomplishid,

  There shall a sparke of fire, which hath long-while

  Bene in his ashes raked vp, and hid,

  Be freshly kindled in the fruitfull Ile

  Of Mona, where it lurked in exile;

  Which shall breake forth into bright burning flame,

  And reach into the house, that beares the stile

  Of royall maiesty and soueraigne name;

  So shall the Briton bloud their crowne againe reclame.

  Thenceforth eternall vnion shall be made

  Betweene the nations different afore,

  And sacred Peace shall louingly perswade

  The warlike minds, to learne her goodly lore,

  And ciuile armes to exercise no more:

  Then shall a royall virgin raine, which shall

  Stretch her white rod ouer the Belgicke shore,

  And the great Castle smite so sore with all,

  That it shall make him shake, and shortly learne to fall.

  But yet the end is not. There Merlin stayd,

  As ouercomen of the spirites powre,

  Or other ghastly spectacle dismayd,

  That secretly he saw, yet note discoure:

  Which suddein fit, and halfe extatick stoure

  When the two fearefull women saw, they grew

  Greatly confused in behauioure;

  At last the fury past, to former hew

  Hee turnd againe, and chearefull looks as earst did shew.

  Then, when them selues they well instructed had

  Of all, that needed them to be inquird,

  They both conceiuing hope of comfort glad,

  With lighter hearts vnto their home retird;

  Where they in secret counsell close conspird,

  How to effect so hard an enterprize,

  And to possesse the purpose they desird:

  Now this, now that twixt them they did deuise,

  And diuerse plots did frame, to maske in strange disguise.

  At last the Nourse in her foolhardy wit

  Conceiu'd a bold deuise, and thus bespake;

  Daughter, I deeme that counsell aye most fit,

  That of the time doth dew aduauntage take;

  Ye see that good king Vther now doth make

  Strong warre vpon the Paynim brethren, hight

  Octa and Oza, whom he lately brake

  Beside Cayr Verolame, in victorious fight,

  That now all Britanie doth burne in armes bright.

  That therefore nought our passage may empeach,

  Let vs in feigned armes our selues disguize,

  And our weake hands (whom need new strength shall teach)

  The dreadfull speare and shield to exercize:

  Ne certes daughter that same warlike wize

  I weene, would you misseeme; for ye bene tall,

  And large of limbe, t'atchieue an hard emprize,

  Ne ought ye want, but skill, which practize small

  Will bring, and shortly make you a mayd Martiall.

  And sooth, it ought your courage much inflame,r />
  To heare so often, in that royall hous,

  From whence to none inferiour ye came,

  Bards tell of many women valorous

  Which haue full many feats aduenturous

  Performd, in paragone of proudest men:

  The bold Bunduca, whose victorious

  Exploits made Rome to quake, stout Guendolen,

  Renowmed Martia, and redoubted Emmilen.

  And that, which more then all the rest may sway,

  Late dayes ensample, which these eyes beheld,

  In the last field before Meneuia

  Which Vther with those forrein Pagans held,

  I saw a Saxon Virgin, the which feld

  Great Vlfin thrise vpon the bloudy plaine,

  And had not Carados her hand withheld

  From rash reuenge, she had him surely slaine,

  Yet Carados himselfe from her escapt with paine.

  Ah read, (quoth Britomart) how is she hight?

  Faire Angela (quoth she) men do her call,

  No whit lesse faire, then terrible in fight:

  She hath the leading of a Martiall

  And mighty people, dreaded more then all

  The other Saxons, which do for her sake

  And loue, themselues of her name Angles call.

  Therefore faire Infant her ensample make

  Vnto thy selfe, and equall courage to thee take.

  Her harty words so deepe into the mynd

  Of the young Damzell sunke, that great desire

  Of warlike armes in her forthwith they tynd,

  And generous stout courage did inspire,

  That she resolu'd, vnweeting to her Sire,

  Aduent'rous knighthood on her selfe to don,

  And counseld with her Nourse, her Maides attire

  To turne into a massy habergeon,

  And bad her all things put in readinesse anon.

  Th'old woman nought, that needed, did omit;

  But all things did conueniently puruay:

  It fortuned (so time their turne did fit)

  A band of Britons ryding on forray

  Few dayes before, had gotten a great pray

  Of Saxon goods, emongst the which was seene

  A goodly Armour, and full rich aray,

  Which long'd to Angela, the Saxon Queene,

  All fretted round with gold, and goodly well beseene.

  The same, with all the other ornaments,

  King Ryence caused to be hanged hy

  In his chiefe Church, for endlesse moniments

  Of his successe and gladfull victory:

  Of which her selfe auising readily,

  In th'euening late old Glauce thither led

  Faire Britomart, and that same Armory

  Downe taking, her therein appareled,

  Well as she might, and with braue bauldrick garnished.

  Beside those armes there stood a mighty speare,

  Which Bladud made by Magick art of yore,

  And vsd the same in battell aye to beare;

  Sith which it had bin here preseru'd in store,

  For his great vertues proued long afore:

  For neuer wight so fast in sell could sit,

  But him perforce vnto the ground it bore:

  Both speare she tooke, and shield, which hong by it:

  Both speare & shield of great powre, for her purpose fit.

  Thus when she had the virgin all arayd,

  Another harnesse, which did hang thereby,

  About her selfe she dight, that the young Mayd

  She might in equall armes accompany,

  And as her Squire attend her carefully:

  Tho to their ready Steeds they clombe full light,

  And through back wayes, that none might them espy,

  Couered with secret cloud of silent night,

  Themselues they forth conuayd, & passed forward right.

  Ne rested they, till that to Faery lond

  They came, as Merlin them directed late:

  Where meeting with this Redcrosse knight, she fond

  Of diuerse things discourses to dilate,

  But most of Arthegall, and his estate.

  At last their wayes so fell, that they mote part

  Then each to other well affectionate,

  Friendship professed with vnfained hart,

  The Redcrosse knight diuerst, but forth rode Britomart.

  Cant. IIII.

  Bold Marinell of Britomart,

  Is throwne on the Rich strond:

  Faire Florimell of Arthur is

  Long followed, but not fond.

  VV Here is the Antique glory now become,

  That whilome wont in women to appeare?

  Where be the braue atchieuements doen by some?

  Where be the battels, where the shield and speare,

  And all the conquests, which them high did reare,

  That matter made for famous Poets verse,

  And boastfull men so oft abasht to heare?

  Bene they all dead, and laid in dolefull herse?

  Or doen they onely sleepe, and shall againe reuerse?

  If they be dead, then woe is me therefore:

  But if they sleepe, ô let them soone awake:

  For all too long I burne with enuy sore,

  To heare the warlike feates, which Homere spake

  Of bold Penthesilee, which made a lake

  Of Greekish bloud so oft in Troian plaine;

  But when I read, how stout Debora strake

  Proud Sisera, and how Camill' hath slaine

  The huge Orsilochus, I swell with great disdaine.

  Yet these, and all that else had puissaunce,

  Cannot with noble Britomart compare,

  Aswell for glory of great valiaunce,

  As for pure chastitie and vertue rare,

  That all her goodly deeds do well declare.

  Well worthy stock, from which the branches sprong,

  That in late yeares so faire a blossome bare,

  As thee, ô Queene, the matter of my song,

  Whose lignage from this Lady I deriue along.

  Who when through speaches with the Redcrosse knight,

  She learned had th'estate of Arthegall,

  And in each point her selfe informd aright,

  A friendly league of loue perpetuall

  She with him bound, and Congé tooke withall.

  Then he forth on his iourney did proceede,

  To seeke aduentures, which mote him befall,

  And win him worship through his warlike deed,

  Which alwayes of his paines he made the chiefest meed.

  But Britomart kept on her former course,

  Ne euer dofte her armes, but all the way

  Grew pensiue through that amorous discourse,

  By which the Redcrosse knight did earst display

  Her louers shape, and cheualrous aray;

  A thousand thoughts she fashioned in her mind,

  And in her feigning fancie did pourtray

  Him such, as fittest she for loue could find,

  Wise, warlike, personable, curteous, and kind.

  With such selfe-pleasing thoughts her wound she fed,

  And thought so to beguile her grieuous smart;

  But so her smart was much more grieuous bred,

  And the deepe wound more deepe engord her hart,

  That nought but death her dolour mote depart.

  So forth she rode without repose or rest,

  Searching all lands and each remotest part,

  Following the guidaunce of her blinded guest,

  Till that to the sea-coast at length she her addrest.

  There she alighted from her light-foot beast,

  And sitting downe vpon the rocky shore,

  Bad her old Squire vnlace her lofty creast;

  Tho hauing vewd a while the surges hore,

  That gainst the craggy clifts did loudly rore,

  And in their raging surquedry disdaynd,

&nbs
p; That the fast earth affronted them so sore,

  And their deuouring couetize restraynd,

  Thereat she sighed deepe, and after thus complaynd.

  Huge sea of sorrow, and tempestuous griefe,

  Wherein my feeble barke is tossed long,

  Far from the hoped hauen of reliefe,

  Why do thy cruell billowes beat so strong,

  And thy moyst mountaines each on others throng,

  Threatning to swallow vp my fearefull life?

  O do thy cruell wrath and spightfull wrong

  At length allay, and stint thy stormy strife,

  Which in these troubled bowels raignes, & rageth rife.

  For else my feeble vessell crazd, and crackt

  Through thy strong buffets and outrageous blowes,

  Cannot endure, but needs it must be wrackt

  On the rough rocks, or on the sandy shallowes,

  The whiles that loue it steres, and fortune rowes;

  Loue my lewd Pilot hath a restlesse mind

  And fortune Boteswaine no assuraunce knowes,

  But saile withouten starres gainst tide and wind:

  How can they other do, sith both are bold and blind?

  Thou God of winds, that raignest in the seas,

  That raignest also in the Continent,

  At last blow vp some gentle gale of ease,

  The which may bring my ship, ere it be rent,

  Vnto the gladsome port of her intent:

  Then when I shall my selfe in safety see,

  A table for eternall moniment

  Of thy great grace, and my great ieopardee,

  Great Neptune, I auow to hallow vnto thee.

  Then sighing softly sore, and inly deepe,

  She shut vp all her plaint in priuy griefe;

  For her great courage would not let her weepe,

  Till that old Glauce gan with sharpe repriefe,

  Her to restraine, and giue her good reliefe,

  Through hope of those, which Merlin had her told

  Should of her name and nation be chiefe,

  And fetch their being from the sacred mould

  Of her immortall wombe, to be in heauen enrold.

  Thus as she her recomforted, she spyde,

  Where farre away one all in armour bright,

  With hastie gallop towards her did ryde;

  Her dolour soone she ceast, and on her dight