The Faerie Queene

by The Faerie Queen(Lit)

Who was right glad to gaine so goodly meed:

  But Blandamour thereat full greatly grudged,

  And litle prays'd his labours euill speed,

  That for to winne the saddle, lost the steed.

  Ne lesse thereat did Paridell complaine,

  And thought t'appeale from that, which was decreed,

  To single combat with Sir Satyrane.

  Thereto him Ate stird, new discord to maintaine.

  And eke with these, full many other Knights

  She through her wicked working did incense,

  Her to demaund, and chalenge as their rights,

  Deserued for their perils recompense.

  Amongst the rest with boastfull vaine pretense

  Stept Braggadochio forth, and as his thrall

  Her claym'd, by him in battell wonne long sens:

  Whereto her selfe he did to witnesse call;

  Who being askt, accordingly confessed all.

  Thereat exceeding wroth was Satyran;

  And wroth with Satyran was Blandamour;

  And wroth with Blandamour was Eriuan;

  And at them both Sir Paridell did loure.

  So all together stird vp strifull stoure,

  And readie were new battell to darraine.

  Each one profest to be her paramoure,

  And vow'd with speare and shield it to maintaine;

  Ne Iudges powre, ne reasons rule mote them restraine.

  Which troublous stirre when Satyrane auiz'd:

  He gan to cast how to appease the same,

  And to accord them all, this meanes deuiz'd:

  First in the midst to set that fayrest Dame,

  To whom each one his chalenge should disclame,

  And he himselfe his right would eke releasse:

  Then looke to whom she voluntarie came,

  He should without disturbance her possesse:

  Sweete is the loue that comes alone with willingnesse.

  They all agreed, and then that snowy Mayd

  Was in the middest plast among them all;

  All on her gazing wisht, and vowd, and prayd,

  And to the Queene of beautie close did call,

  That she vnto their portion might befall.

  Then when she long had lookt vpon each one,

  As though she wished to haue pleasd them all,

  At last to Braggadochio selfe alone

  She came of her accord, in spight of all his fone.

  Which when they all beheld they chaft and rag'd,

  And woxe nigh mad for very harts despight,

  That from reuenge their willes they scarse asswag'd:

  Some thought from him her to haue reft by might;

  Some proffer made with him for her to fight.

  But he nought car'd for all that they could say:

  For he their words as wind esteemed light.

  Yet not fit place he thought it there to stay,

  But secretly from thence that night her bore away.

  They which remaynd, so soone as they perceiu'd,

  That she was gone, departed thence with speed,

  And follow'd them, in mind her to haue reau'd

  From wight vnworthie of so noble meed.

  In which poursuit how each one did succeede,

  Shall else be told in order, as it fell.

  But now of Britomart it here doth neede,

  The hard aduentures and strange haps to tell;

  Since with the rest she went not after Florimell.

  For soone as she them saw to discord set,

  Her list no longer in that place abide;

  But taking with her louely Amoret,

  Vpon her first aduenture forth did ride,

  To seeke her lou'd, making blind Loue her guide.

  Vnluckie Mayd to seeke her enemie!

  Vnluckie Mayd to seeke him farre and wide,

  Whom, when he was vnto her selfe most nie,

  She through his late disguizeme˜t could him not descrie.

  So much the more her griefe, the more her toyle:

  Yet neither toyle nor griefe she once did spare,

  In seeking him, that should her paine assoyle;

  Whereto great comfort in her sad misfare

  Was Amoret, companion of her care:

  Who likewise sought her louer long miswent,

  The gentle Scudamour, whose hart whileare

  That stryfull hag with gealous discontent

  Had fild, that he to fell reueng was fully bent.

  Bent to reuenge on blamelesse Britomart

  The crime, which cursed Ate kindled earst,

  The which like thornes did pricke his gealous hart,

  And through his soule like poysned arrow perst,

  That by no reason it might be reuerst,

  For ought that Glauce could or doe or say.

  For aye the more that she the same reherst,

  The more it gauld, and grieu'd him night and day,

  That nought but dire reuenge his anger mote defray.

  So as they trauelled, the drouping night

  Couered with cloudie storme and bitter showre,

  That dreadfull seem'd to euery liuing wight,

  Vpon them fell, before her timely howre;

  That forced them to seeke some couert bowre,

  Where they might hide their heads in quiet rest,

  And shrowd their persons from that stormie stowre.

  Not farre away, not meete for any guest

  They spide a little cottage, like some poore mans nest.

  Vnder a steepe hilles side it placed was,

  There where the mouldred earth had cav'd the banke;

  And fast beside a little brooke did pas

  Of muddie water, that like puddle stanke;

  By which few crooked sallowes grew in ranke:

  Whereto approaching nigh, they heard the sound

  Of many yron hammers beating ranke,

  And answering their wearie turnes around,

  That seemed some blacksmith dwelt in that desert grou˜d.

  There entring in, they found the goodman selfe,

  Full busily vnto his worke ybent;

  Who was to weet a wretched wearish elfe,

  With hollow eyes and rawbone cheekes forspent,

  As if he had in prison long bene pent:

  Full blacke and griesly did his face appeare,

  Besmeard with smoke that nigh his eye-sight blent;

  With rugged beard, and hoarie shagged heare,

  The which he neuer wont to combe, or comely sheare.

  Rude was his garment, and to rags all rent,

  Ne better had he, ne for better cared:

  With blistred hands emongst the cinders brent,

  And fingers filthie, with long nayles vnpared,

  Right fit to rend the food, on which he fared.

  His name was Care; a blacksmith by his trade,

  That neither day nor night from working spared,

  But to small purpose yron wedges made;

  Those be vnquiet thoughts, that carefull minds inuade.

  In which his worke he had sixe seruants prest,

  About the Andvile standing euermore,

  With huge great hammers, that did neuer rest

  From heaping stroakes, which thereon soused sore:

  All sixe strong groomes, but one then other more:

  For by degrees they all were disagreed;

  So likewise did the hammers which they bore,

  Like belles in greatnesse orderly succeed,

  That he which was the last, the first did farre exceede.

  He like a monstrous Gyant seem'd in sight,

  Farre passing Bronteus, or Pynacmon great,

  The which in Lipari doe day and night

  Frame thunderbolts for Ioues auengefull threate.

  So dreadfully he did the anduile beat,

  That seem'd to dust he shortly would it driue:

  So huge his hammer and so fierce his heat,

  That seem'd
a rocke of Diamond it could riue,

  And rend a sunder quite, if he thereto list striue.

  Sir Scudamour there entring, much admired

  The manner of their worke and wearie paine;

  And hauing long beheld, at last enquired

  The cause and end thereof: but all in vaine;

  For they for nought would from their worke refraine,

  Ne let his speeches come vnto their eare.

  And eke the breathfull bellowes blew amaine,

  Like to the Northren winde, that none could heare:

  Those Pensifenesse did moue; and Sighes the bellows weare.

  Which when that warriour saw, he said no more,

  But in his armour layd him downe to rest:

  To rest he layd him downe vpon the flore,

  (Whylome for ventrous Knights the bedding best)

  And thought his wearie limbs to haue redrest.

  And that old aged Dame, his faithfull Squire,

  Her feeble ioynts layd eke a downe to rest;

  That needed much her weake age to desire,

  After so long a trauell, which them both did tire.

  There lay Sir Scudamour long while expecting,

  When gentle sleepe his heauie eyes would close;

  Oft chaunging sides, and oft new place electing,

  Where better seem'd he mote himselfe repose;

  And oft in wrath he thence againe vprose;

  And oft in wrath he layd him downe againe.

  But wheresoeuer he did himselfe dispose,

  He by no meanes could wished ease obtaine:

  So euery place seem'd painefull, and ech changing vaine.

  And euermore, when he to sleepe did thinke,

  The hammers sound his senses did molest;

  And euermore, when he began to winke,

  The bellowes noyse disturb'd his quiet rest,

  Ne suffred sleepe to settle in his brest.

  And all the night the dogs did barke and howle

  About the house, at sent of stranger guest:

  And now the crowing Cocke, and now the Owle

  Lowde shriking him afflicted to the very sowle.

  And if by fortune any litle nap

  Vpon his heauie eye-lids chaunst to fall,

  Eftsoones one of those villeins him did rap

  Vpon his headpeece with his yron mall;

  That he was soone awaked therewithall,

  And lightly started vp as one affrayd;

  Or as if one him suddenly did call.

  So oftentimes he out of sleepe abrayd,

  And then lay musing long, on that him ill apayd.

  So long he muzed, and so long he lay,

  That at the last his wearie sprite opprest

  With fleshly weaknesse, which no creature may

  Long time resist, gaue place to kindly rest,

  That all his senses did full soone arrest:

  Yet in his soundest sleepe, his dayly feare

  His ydle braine gan busily molest,

  And made him dreame those two disloyall were:

  The things that day most minds, at night doe most appeare.

  With that, the wicked carle the maister Smith

  A paire of redwhot yron tongs did take

  Out of the burning cinders, and therewith

  Vnder his side him nipt, that forst to wake,

  He felt his hart for very paine to quake,

  And started vp auenged for to be

  On him, the which his quiet slomber brake:

  Yet looking round about him none could see;

  Yet did the smart remaine, though he himselfe did flee.

  In such disquiet and hartfretting payne,

  He all that night, that too long night did passe.

  And now the day out of the Ocean mayne

  Began to peepe aboue this earthly masse,

  With pearly dew sprinkling the morning grasse:

  Then vp he rose like heauie lumpe of lead,

  That in his face, as in a looking glasse,

  The signes of anguish one mote plainely read,

  And ghesse the man to be dismayd with gealous dread.

  Vnto his lofty steede he clombe anone,

  And forth vpon his former voiage fared,

  And with him eke that aged Squire attone;

  Who whatsoeuer perill was prepared,

  Both equall paines and equall perill shared:

  The end whereof and daungerous euent

  Shall for another canticle be spared.

  But here my wearie teeme nigh ouer spent

  Shall breath it selfe awhile, after so long a went.

  Cant. VI.

  Both Scudamour and Arthegall

  Doe fight with Britomart:

  He sees her face; doth fall in loue,

  and soone from her depart.

  VV Hat equall torment to the griefe of mind,

  And pyning anguish hid in gentle hart,

  That inly feeds it selfe with thoughts vnkind,

  And nourisheth her owne consuming smart?

  What medicine can any Leaches art

  Yeeld such a sore, that doth her grieuance hide,

  And will to none her maladie impart?

  Such was the wound that Scudamour did gride;

  For which Dan Phebus selfe cannot a salue prouide.

  Who hauing left that restlesse house of Care,

  The next day, as he on his way did ride,

  Full of melancholie and sad misfare,

  Through misconceipt; all vnawares espide

  An armed Knight vnder a forrest side,

  Sitting in shade beside his grazing steede;

  Who soone as them approaching he descride,

  Gan towards them to pricke with eger speede,

  That seem'd he was full bent to some mischieuous deede.

  Which Scudamour perceiuing, forth issewed

  To haue rencountred him in equall race;

  But soone as th'other nigh approaching, vewed

  The armes he bore, his speare he gan abase,

  And voide his course: at which so suddain case

  He wondred much. But th'other thus can say;

  Ah gentle Scudamour, vnto your grace

  I me submit, and you of pardon pray,

  That almost had against you trespassed this day.

  Whereto thus Scudamour, Small harme it were

  For any knight, vpon a ventrous knight

  Without displeasance for to proue his spere.

  But reade you Sir, sith ye my name haue hight,

  What is your owne, that I mote you requite?

  Certes (sayd he) ye mote as now excuse

  Me from discouering you my name aright:

  For time yet serues that I the same refuse,

  But call ye me the Saluage Knight, as others vse.

  Then this, Sir Saluage Knight (quoth he) areede;

  Or doe you here within this forrest wonne,

  That seemeth well to answere to your weede?

  Or haue ye it for some occasion donne?

  That rather seemes, sith knowen armes ye shonne.

  This other day (sayd he) a stranger knight

  Shame and dishonour hath vnto me donne;

  On whom I waite to wreake that foule despight,

  When euer he this way shall passe by day or night.

  Shame be his meede (quoth he) that meaneth shame.

  But what is he, by whom ye shamed were?

  A stranger knight, sayd he, vnknowne by name,

  But knowne by fame, and by an Hebene speare,

  With which he all that met him, downe did beare.

  He in an open Turney lately held,

  Fro me the honour of that game did reare;

  And hauing me all wearie earst, downe feld,

  The fayrest Ladie reft, and euer since withheld.

  When Scudamour heard mention of that speare,

  He wist right well, that it was Britomart,

  The which from him his fairest loue did be
are.

  Tho gan he swell in euery inner part,

  For fell despight, and gnaw his gealous hart,

  That thus he sharply sayd; Now by my head,

  Yet is not this the first vnknightly part,

  Which that same knight, whom by his launce I read,

  Hath doen to noble knights, that many makes him dread.

  For lately he my loue hath fro me reft,

  And eke defiled with foule villanie

  The sacred pledge, which in his faith was left,

  In shame of knighthood and fidelitie;

  The which ere long full deare he shall abie.

  And if to that auenge by you decreed

  This hand may helpe, or succour ought supplie,

  It shall not fayle, when so ye shall it need.

  So both to wreake their wrathes on Britomart agreed.

  Whiles thus they communed, lo farre away

  A Knight soft ryding towards them they spyde,

  Attyr'd in forraine armes and straunge aray:

  Whõ when they nigh approcht, they plaine descryde

  To be the same, for whom they did abyde.

  Sayd then Sir Scudamour, Sir Saluage knight

  Let me this craue, sith first I was defyde,

  That first I may that wrong to him requite:

  And if I hap to fayle, you shall recure my right.

  Which being yeelded, he his threatfull speare

  Gan fewter, and against her fiercely ran.

  Who soone as she him saw approaching neare

  With so fell rage, her selfe she lightly gan

  To dight, to welcome him, well as she can:

  But entertaind him in so rude a wise,

  That to the ground she smote both horse and man;

  Whence neither greatly hasted to arise,

  But on their common harmes together did deuise.

  But Artegall beholding his mischaunce,

  New matter added to his former fire;

  And eft auentring his steeleheaded launce,

  Against her rode, full of despiteous ire,

  That nought but spoyle and vengeance did require.

  But to himselfe his felonous intent

  Returning, disappointed his desire,

  Whiles vnawares his saddle he forwent,

  And found himselfe on ground in great amazement.

  Lightly he started vp out of that stound,