The Faerie Queene

by The Faerie Queen(Lit)

  Now lesse she feared that same fatall read,

  That warned him of womens loue beware:

  Which being ment of mortall creatures sead,

  For loue of Nymphes she thought she need not care,

  But promist him, what euer wight she weare,

  That she her loue to him would shortly gaine:

  So he her told: but soone as she did heare

  That Florimell it was, which wrought his paine,

  She gan a fresh to chafe, and grieue in euery vaine.

  Yet since she saw the streight extremitie,

  In which his life vnluckily was layd,

  It was no time to scan the prophecie,

  Whether old Proteus true or false had sayd,

  That his decay should happen by a mayd.

  It's late in death of daunger to aduize,

  Or loue forbid him, that is life denayd:

  But rather gan in troubled mind deuize,

  How she that Ladies libertie might enterprize.

  To Proteus selfe to sew she thought it vaine,

  Who was the root and worker of her woe:

  Nor vnto any meaner to complaine,

  But vnto great king Neptune selfe did goe,

  And on her knee before him falling lowe,

  Made humble suit vnto his Maiestie,

  To graunt to her, her sonnes life, which his foe

  A cruell Tyrant had presumpteouslie

  By wicked doome condemn'd, a wretched death to die.

  To whom God Neptune softly smyling, thus;

  Daughter me seemes of double wrong ye plaine,

  Gainst one that hath both wronged you, and vs:

  For death t'adward I ween'd did appertaine

  To none, but to the seas sole Soueraine.

  Read therefore who it is, which this hath wrought,

  And for what cause; the truth discouer plaine.

  For neuer wight so euill did or thought,

  But would some rightfull cause pretend, though rightly nought.

  To whom she answerd, Then it is by name

  Proteus, that hath ordayn'd my sonne to die;

  For that a waift, the which by fortune came

  Vpon your seas, he claym'd as propertie:

  And yet nor his, nor his in equitie,

  But yours the waift by high prerogatiue.

  Therefore I humbly craue your Maiestie,

  It to repleuie, and my sonne repriue:

  So shall you by one gift saue all vs three aliue.

  He graunted it: and streight his warrant made,

  Vnder the Sea-gods seale autenticall,

  Commaunding Proteus straight t'enlarge the mayd,

  Which wandring on his seas imperiall,

  He lately tooke, and sithence kept as thrall.

  Which she receiuing with meete thankefulnesse,

  Departed straight to Proteus therewithall:

  Who reading it with inward loathfulnesse,

  Was grieued to restore the pledge, he did possesse.

  Yet durst he not the warrant to withstand,

  But vnto her deliuered Florimell.

  Whom she receiuing by the lilly hand,

  Admyr'd her beautie much, as she mote well:

  For she all liuing creatures did excell;

  And was right ioyous, that she gotten had

  So faire a wife for her sonne Marinell.

  So home with her she streight the virgin lad,

  And shewed her to him, then being sore bestad.

  Who soone as he beheld that angels face,

  Adorn'd with all diuine perfection,

  His cleared heart eftsoones away gan chace

  Sad death, reuiued with her sweet inspection

  And feeble spirit inly felt refection;

  As withered weed through cruell winters tine,

  That feeles the warmth of sunny beames reflection,

  Liftes vp his head, that did before decline

  And gins to spread his leafe before the faire sunshine.

  Right so himselfe did Marinell vpreare,

  When he in place his dearest loue did spy;

  And though his limbs could not his bodie beare,

  Ne former strength returne so suddenly,

  Yet chearefull signes he shewed outwardly.

  Ne lesse was she in secret hart affected,

  But that she masked it with modestie,

  For feare she should of lightnesse be detected:

  Which to another place I leaue to be perfected.

  [here, in 1609, 'The end of the fourth Booke.']

  THE FIFTH

  BOOKE OF THE

  FAERIE QVEENE.

  Contayning

  THE LEGEND OF ARTEGALL

  OR

  OF IVSTICE.

  SO oft as I with state of present time,

  The image of the antique world compare,

  When as mans age was in his freshest prime,

  And the first blossome of faire vertue bare,

  Such oddes I finde twixt those, and these which are,

  As that, through long continuance of his course,

  Me seemes the world is runne quite out of square,

  From the first point of his appointed sourse,

  And being once amisse growes daily wourse and wourse.

  For from the golden age, that first was named,

  It's now at earst become a stonie one;

  And men themselues, the which at first were framed

  Of earthly mould, and form'd of flesh and bone,

  Are now transformed into hardest stone:

  Such as behind their backs (so backward bred)

  Were throwne by Pyrrha and Deucalione:

  And if then those may any worse be red,

  They into that ere long will be degendered.

  Let none then blame me, if in discipline

  Of vertue and of ciuill vses lore,

  I doe not forme them to the common line

  Of present dayes, which are corrupted sore,

  But to the antique vse, which was of yore,

  When good was onely for it selfe desyred,

  And all men sought their owne, and none no more;

  When Iustice was not for most meed outhyred,

  But simple Truth did rayne, and was of all admyred.

  For that which all men then did vertue call,

  Is now cald vice; and that which vice was hight,

  Is now hight vertue, and so vs'd of all:

  Right now is wrong, and wrong that was is right,

  As all things else in time are chaunged quight.

  Ne wonder; for the heauens reuolution

  Is wandred farre from where it first was pight,

  And so doe make contrarie constitution

  Of all this lower world, toward his dissolution.

  For who so list into the heauens looke,

  And search the courses of the rowling spheares,

  Shall find that from the point, where they first tooke

  Their setting forth, in these few thousand yeares

  They all are wandred much; that plaine appeares.

  For that same golden fleecy Ram, which bore

  Phrixus and Helle from their stepdames feares,

  Hath now forgot, where he was plast of yore,

  And shouldred hath the Bull, which fayre Europa bore.

  And eke the Bull hath with his bow-bent horne

  So hardly butted those two twinnes of Ioue,

  That they haue crusht the Crab, and quite him borne

  Into the great Nemoean lions groue.

  So now all range, and doe at randon roue

  Out of their proper places farre away,

  And all this world with them amisse doe moue,

  And all his creatures from their course astray,

  Till they arriue at their last ruinous decay.

  Ne is that same great glorious lampe of light,

  That doth enlumine all these lesser fyres,

  In better case, ne keepes his co
urse more right,

  But is miscaried with the other Spheres.

  For since the terme of fourteene hundred fyeres,

  That learned Ptolomaee his hight did take,

  He is declyned from that marke of theirs,

  Nigh thirtie minutes to the Southerne lake;

  That makes me feare in time he will vs quite forsake.

  And if to those Ægyptian wisards old,

  Which in Star-read were wont haue best insight,

  Faith may be giuen, it is by them told,

  That since the time they first tooke the Sunnes hight,

  Foure times his place he shifted hath in sight,

  And twice hath risen, where he now doth West,

  And wested twice, where he ought rise aright.

  But most is Mars amisse of all the rest,

  And next to him old Saturne, that was wont be best.

  For during Saturnes ancient raigne it's sayd,

  That all the world with goodnesse did abound:

  All loued vertue, no man was affrayd

  Of force, ne fraud in wight was to be found:

  No warre was knowne, no dreadfull trompets sound,

  Peace vniuersall rayn'd mongst men and beasts,

  And all things freely grew out of the ground:

  Iustice sate high ador'd with solemne feasts,

  And to all people did diuide her dred beheasts.

  Most sacred vertue she of all the rest,

  Resembling God in his imperiall might;

  Whose soueraine powre is herein most exprest,

  That both to good and bad he dealeth right,

  And all his workes with Iustice hath bedight.

  That powre he also doth to Princes lend,

  And makes them like himselfe in glorious sight,

  To sit in his owne seate, his cause to end,

  And rule his people right, as he doth recommend.

  Dread Souerayne Goddesse, that doest highest sit

  In seate of iudgement, in th'Almighties stead,

  And with magnificke might and wondrous wit

  Doest to thy people righteous doome aread,

  That furthest Nations filles with awfull dread,

  Pardon the boldnesse of thy basest thrall,

  That dare discourse of so diuine a read,

  As thy great iustice praysed ouer all:

  The instrument whereof loe here thy Artegall.

  Canto I.

  Artegall trayn'd in Iustice lore

  Irenaes quest pursewed,

  He doeth auenge on Sanglier

  His Ladies bloud embrewed.

  T Hough vertue then were held in highest price,

  In those old times, of which I doe intreat,

  Yet then likewise the wicked seede of vice

  Began to spring which shortly grew full great,

  And with their boughes the gentle plants did beat.

  But euermore some of the vertuous race

  Rose vp, inspired with heroicke heat,

  That cropt the branches of the sient base,

  And with strong hand their fruitfull rancknes did deface.

  Such first was Bacchus, that with furious might

  All th'East before vntam'd did ouerronne,

  And wrong repressed, and establisht right,

  Which lawlesse men had formerly fordonne.

  There Iustice first her princely rule begonne.

  Next Hercules his like ensample shewed,

  Who all the West with equall conquest wonne,

  And monstrous tyrants with his club subdewed;

  The club of Iustice dread, with kingly powre endewed.

  And such was he, of whom I haue to tell,

  The Champion of true Iustice Artegall.

  Whom (as ye lately mote remember well)

  An hard aduenture, which did then befall,

  Into redoubted perill forth did call;

  That was to succour a distressed Dame,

  Whom a strong tyrant did vniustly thrall,

  And from the heritage, which she did clame,

  Did with strong hand withhold: Grantorto was his name.

  Wherefore the Lady, which Eirena hight,

  Did to the Faery Queene her way addresse,

  To whom complayning her afflicted plight,

  She her besought of gratious redresse.

  That soueraine Queene, that mightie Emperesse,

  Whose glorie is to aide all suppliants pore,

  And of weake Princes to be Patronesse,

  Chose Artegall to right her to restore;

  For that to her he seem'd best skild in righteous lore.

  For Artegall in iustice was vpbrought

  Euen from the cradle of his infancie,

  And all the depth of rightfull doome was taught

  By faire Astræa, with great industrie,

  Whilest here on earth she liued mortallie.

  For till the world from his perfection fell

  Into all filth and foule iniquitie,

  Astræa here mongst earthly men did dwell,

  And in the rules of iustice them instructed well.

  Whiles through the world she walked in this sort,

  Vpon a day she found this gentle childe,

  Amongst his peres playing his childish sport:

  Whom seeing fit, and with no crime defilde,

  She did allure with gifts and speaches milde,

  To wend with her. So thence him farre she brought

  Into a caue from companie exilde,

  In which she noursled him, till yeares he raught,

  And all the discipline of iustice there him taught.

  There she him taught to weigh both right and wrong

  In equall ballance with due recompence,

  And equitie to measure out along,

  According to the line of conscience,

  When so it needs with rigour to dispence.

  Of all the which, for want there of mankind,

  She caused him to make experience

  Vpon wyld beasts, which she in woods did find,

  With wrongfull powre oppressing others of their kind.

  Thus she him trayned, and thus she him taught,

  In all the skill of deeming wrong and right,

  Vntill the ripenesse of mans yeares he raught;

  That euen wilde beasts did feare his awfull sight,

  And men admyr'd his ouerruling might;

  Ne any liu'd on ground, that durst withstand

  His dreadfull heast, much lesse him match in fight,

  Or bide the horror of his wreakfull hand,

  When so he list in wrath lift vp his steely brand.

  Which steely brand, to make him dreaded more,

  She gaue vnto him, gotten by her slight

  And earnest search, where it was kept in store

  In Ioues eternall house, vnwist of wight,

  Since he himselfe it vs'd in that great fight

  Against the Titans, that whylome rebelled

  Gainst highest heauen; Chrysaor it was hight;

  Chrysaor that all other swords excelled,

  Well prou'd in that same day, when Ioue those Gyants quelled.

  For of most perfect metall it was made,

  Tempred with Adamant amongst the same,

  And garnisht all with gold vpon the blade

  In goodly wise, whereof it tooke his name,

  And was of no lesse vertue, then of fame.

  For there no substance was so firme and hard,

  But it would pierce or cleaue, where so it came;

  Ne any armour could his dint out ward,

  But wheresoeuer it did light, it throughly shard.

  Now when the world with sinne gan to abound,

  Astraea loathing lenger here to space

  Mongst wicked men, in whom no truth she found,

  Return'd to heauen, whence she deriu'd her race;

  Where she hath now an euerlasting place,

  Mongst those twelue signes, which nightly we d
oe see

  The heauens bright-shining baudricke to enchace;

  And is the Virgin, sixt in her degree,

  And next her selfe her righteous ballance hanging bee.

  But when she parted hence, she left her groome

  An yron man, which did on her attend

  Alwayes, to execute her stedfast doome,

  And willed him with Artegall to wend,

  And doe what euer thing he did intend.

  His name was Talus, made of yron mould,

  Immoueable, resistlesse, without end.

  Who in his hand an yron flale did hould,

  With which he thresht out falshood, and did truth vnfould.

  He now went with him in this new inquest,

  Him for to aide, if aide he chaunst to neede,

  Against that cruell Tyrant, which opprest

  The faire Irena with his foule misdeede,

  And kept the crowne in which she should succeed.

  And now together on their way they bin,

  When as they saw a Squire in squallid weed,

  Lamenting sore his sorowfull sad tyne,

  With many bitter teares shed from his blubbred eyne.

  To whom as they approched, they espide

  A sorie sight, as euer seene with eye;

  An headlesse Ladie lying him beside,

  In her owne blood all wallow'd wofully,

  That her gay clothes did in discolour die.

  Much was he moued at that ruefull sight;

  And flam'd with zeale of vengeance inwardly,

  He askt, who had that Dame so fouly dight;

  Or whether his owne hand, or whether other wight?

  Ah woe is me, and well away (quoth hee)

  Bursting forth teares, like springs out of a banke,

  That euer I this dismall day did see:

  Full farre was I from thinking such a pranke;

  Yet litle losse it were, and mickle thanke,

  If I should graunt that I haue doen the same,

  That I mote drinke the cup, whereof she dranke:

  But that I should die guiltie of the blame,

  The which another did, who now is fled with shame.

  Who was it then (sayd Artegall) that wrought?