The Faerie Queene

by The Faerie Queen(Lit)

  That forst her turne againe in her despight,

  To saue her selfe, least that he did her slay:

  And sure he had her slaine, had she not turnd her way.

  Tho when she saw, that she was forst to fight,

  She flew at him, like to an hellish feend,

  And on his shield tooke hold with all her might,

  As if that it she would in peeces rend,

  Or reaue out of the hand, that did it hend.

  Strongly he stroue out of her greedy gripe

  To loose his shield, and long while did contend:

  But when he could not quite it, with one stripe

  Her Lions clawes he from her feete away did wipe.

  With that aloude she gan to bray and yell,

  And fowle blasphemous speaches forth did cast,

  And bitter curses, horrible to tell,

  That euen the Temple, wherein she was plast,

  Did quake to heare, and nigh asunder brast.

  Tho with her huge long taile she at him strooke,

  That made him stagger, and stand halfe agast

  With trembling ioynts, as he for terrour shooke;

  Who nought was terrifide, but greater courage tooke.

  As when the Mast of some well timbred hulke

  Is with the blast of some outragious storme

  Blowne downe, it shakes the bottome of the bulke,

  And makes her ribs to cracke, as they were torne,

  Whilest still she stands as stonisht and forlorne:

  So was he stound with stroke of her huge taile.

  But ere that it she backe againe had borne,

  He with his sword it strooke, that without faile

  He ioynted it, and mard the swinging of her flaile.

  Then gan she cry much louder then afore,

  That all the people there without it heard,

  And Belge selfe was therewith stonied sore,

  As if the onely sound thereof she feard.

  But then the feend her selfe more fiercely reard

  Vppon her wide great wings, and strongly flew

  With all her body at his head and beard;

  That had he not foreseene with heedfull vew,

  And thrown his shield atween, she had him done to rew.

  But as she prest on him with heauy sway,

  Vnder her wombe his fatall sword he thrust,

  And for her entrailes made an open way,

  To issue forth; the which once being brust,

  Like to a great Mill damb forth fiercely gusht,

  And powred out of her infernall sinke

  Most vgly filth, and poyson therewith rusht,

  That him nigh choked with the deadly stinke:

  Such loathly matter were small lust to speake, or thinke.

  Then downe to ground fell that deformed Masse,

  Breathing out clouds of sulphure fowle and blacke,

  In which a puddle of contagion was,

  More loathd then Lerna, or then Stygian lake,

  That any man would nigh awhaped make.

  Whom when he saw on ground, he was full glad,

  And streight went forth his gladnesse to partake

  With Belge, who watcht all this while full sad,

  Wayting what end would be of that same daunger drad.

  Whom when she saw so ioyously come forth,

  She gan reioyce, and shew triumphant chere,

  Lauding and praysing his renowmed worth,

  By all the names that honorable were.

  Then in he brought her, and her shewed there

  The present of his paines, that Monsters spoyle,

  And eke that Idoll deem'd so costly dere;

  Whom he did all to peeces breake and foyle

  In filthy durt, and left so in the loathely soyle.

  Then all the people, which beheld that day,

  Gan shout aloud, that vnto heauen it rong;

  And all the damzels of that towne in ray,

  Came dauncing forth, and ioyous carrols song:

  So him they led through all their streetes along,

  Crowned with girlonds of immortall baies,

  And all the vulgar did about them throng,

  To see the man, whose euerlasting praise

  They all were bound to all posterities to raise.

  There he with Belge did a while remaine,

  Making great feast and ioyous merriment,

  Vntill he had her settled in her raine,

  With safe assuraunce and establishment.

  Then to his first emprize his mind he lent,

  Full loath to Belge, and to all the rest:

  Of whom yet taking leaue, thenceforth he went

  And to his former iourney him addrest,

  On which long way he rode, ne euer day did rest.

  But turne we now to noble Artegall;

  Who hauing left Mercilla, streight way went

  On his first quest, the which him forth did call,

  To weet to worke Irenaes franchisement,

  And eke Grantortoes worthy punishment.

  So forth he fared as his manner was,

  With onely Talus wayting diligent,

  Through many perils and much way did pas,

  Till nigh vnto the place at length approcht he has.

  There as he traueld by the way, he met

  An aged wight, wayfaring all alone,

  Who through his yeares long since aside had set

  The vse of armes, and battell quite forgone:

  To whom as he approcht, he knew anone,

  That it was he which whilome did attend

  On faire Irene in her affliction,

  When first to Faery court he saw her wend,

  Vnto his soueraine Queene her suite for to commend.

  Whom by his name saluting, thus he gan;

  Haile good Sir Sergis, truest Knight aliue,

  Well tride in all thy Ladies troubles than,

  When her that Tyrant did of Crowne depriue;

  What new ocasion doth thee hither driue,

  Whiles she alone is left, and thou here found?

  Or is she thrall, or doth she not suruiue?

  To whom he thus; She liueth sure and sound;

  But by that Tyrant is in wretched thraldome bound.

  For she presuming on th'appointed tyde,

  In which ye promist, as ye were a Knight,

  To meete her at the saluage Ilands syde,

  And then and there for triall of her right

  With her vnrighteous enemy to fight,

  Did thither come, where she afrayd of nought,

  By guilefull treason and by subtill slight

  Surprized was, and to Grantorto brought,

  Who her imprisond hath, and her life often sought.

  And now he hath to her prefixt a day,

  By which if that no champion doe appeare,

  Which will her cause in battailous array

  Against him iustifie, and proue her cleare

  Of all those crimes, that he gainst her doth reare,

  She death shall by. Those tidings sad

  Did much abash Sir Artegall to heare,

  And grieued sore, that through his fault she had

  Fallen into that Tyrants hand and vsage bad.

  Then thus replide; Now sure and by my life,

  Too much am I to blame for that faire Maide,

  That haue her drawne to all this troublous strife,

  Through promise to afford her timely aide,

  Which by default I haue not yet defraide.

  But witnesse vnto me, ye heauens, that know

  How cleare I am from blame of this vpbraide:

  For ye into like thraldome me did throw,

  And kept from complishing the faith, which I did owe.

  But now aread, Sir Sergis, how long space,

  Hath he her lent, a Champion to prouide?

  Ten daies (quoth he) he graunted hath of grace,

  For that he weeneth well, before that
tide

  None can haue tidings to assist her side.

  For all the shores, which to the sea accoste,

  He day and night doth ward both far and wide,

  That none can there arriue without an hoste:

  So her he deemes already but a damned ghoste.

  Now turne againe (Sir Artegall then sayd)

  For if I liue till those ten daies haue end,

  Assure your selfe, Sir Knight, she shall haue ayd,

  Though I this dearest life for her doe spend;

  So backeward he attone with him did wend.

  Tho as they rode together on their way,

  A rout of people they before them kend,

  Flocking together in confusde array,

  As if that there were some tumultuous affray.

  To which as they approcht, the cause to know,

  They saw a Knight in daungerous distresse

  Of a rude rout him chasing to and fro,

  That sought with lawlesse powre him to oppresse,

  And bring in bondage of their brutishnesse:

  And farre away, amid their rakehell bands,

  They spide a Lady left all succourlesse,

  Crying, and holding vp her wretched hands

  To him for aide, who long in vaine their rage withstands.

  Yet still he striues, ne any perill spares,

  To reskue her from their rude violence,

  And like a Lion wood amongst them fares,

  Dealing his dreadfull blowes with large dispence,

  Gainst which the pallid death findes no defence.

  But all in vaine, their numbers are so great,

  That naught may boot to banishe them from thence:

  For soone as he their outrage backe doth beat,

  They turne afresh, and oft renew their former threat.

  And now they doe so sharpely him assay,

  That they his shield in peeces battred haue,

  And forced him to throw it quite away,

  Fro dangers dread his doubtfull life to saue;

  Albe that it most safety to him gaue,

  And much did magnifie his noble name.

  For from the day that he thus did it leaue,

  Amongst all Knights he blotted was with blame,

  And counted but a recreant Knight, with endles shame.

  Whom when they thus distressed did behold,

  They drew vnto his aide; but that rude rout

  Them also gan assaile with outrage bold,

  And forced them, how euer strong and stout

  They were, as well approu'd in many a doubt,

  Backe to recule; vntill that yron man

  With his huge flaile began to lay about;

  From whose sterne presence they diffused ran,

  Like scattred chaffe, the which the wind away doth fan.

  So when that Knight from perill cleare was freed,

  He drawing neare, began to greete them faire,

  And yeeld great thankes for their so goodly deed,

  In sauing him from daungerous despaire

  Of those, which sought his life for to empaire.

  Of whom Sir Artegall gan then enquire

  The whole occasion of his late misfare,

  And who he was, and what those villaines were,

  The which with mortall malice him pursu'd so nere.

  To whom he thus; My name is Burbon hight,

  Well knowne, and far renowmed heretofore,

  Vntill late mischiefe did vppon me light,

  That all my former praise hath blemisht sore;

  And that faire Lady, which in that vprore

  Ye with those caytiues saw, Flourdelis hight,

  Is mine owne loue, though me she haue forlore,

  Whether withheld from me by wrongfull might,

  Or with her owne good will, I cannot read aright.

  But sure to me her faith she first did plight,

  To be my loue, and take me for her Lord,

  Till that a Tyrant, which Grandtorto hight,

  With golden giftes and many a guilefull word

  Entyced her, to him for to accord.

  O who may not with gifts and words be tempted?

  Sith which she hath me euer since abhord,

  And to my foe hath guilefully consented:

  Ay me, that euer guyle in wemen was inuented.

  And now he hath this troupe of villains sent,

  By open force to fetch her quite away:

  Gainst whom my selfe I long in vaine haue bent,

  To rescue her, and daily meanes assay,

  Yet rescue her thence by no meanes I may:

  For they doe me with multitude oppresse,

  And with vnequall might doe ouerlay,

  That oft I driuen am to great distresse,

  And forced to forgoe th'attempt remedilesse.

  But why haue ye (said Artegall) forborne

  Your owne good shield in daungerous dismay?

  That is the greatest shame and foulest scorne,

  Which vnto any knight behappen may

  To loose the badge, that should his deedes display.

  To whom Sir Burbon, blushing halfe for shame,

  That shall I vnto you (quoth he) bewray;

  Least ye therefore mote happily me blame,

  And deeme it doen of will, that through inforcement came.

  True is, that I at first was dubbed knight

  By a good knight, the knight of the Redcrosse;

  Who when he gaue me armes, in field to fight,

  Gaue me a shield, in which he did endosse

  His deare Redeemers badge vpon the bosse:

  The same longwhile I bore, and therewithall

  Fought many battels without wound or losse;

  Therewith Grandtorto selfe I did appall,

  And made him oftentimes in field before me fall.

  But for that many did that shield enuie,

  And cruell enemies increased more;

  To stint all strife and troublous enmitie,

  That bloudie scutchin being battered sore,

  I layd aside, and haue of late forbore,

  Hoping thereby to haue my loue obtayned:

  Yet can I not my loue haue nathemore;

  For she by force is still fro me detayned,

  And with corruptfull brybes is to vntruth mis-trayned.

  To whom thus Artegall; Certes Sir knight,

  Hard is the case, the which ye doe complaine;

  Yet not so hard (for nought so hard may light,

  That it to such a streight mote you constraine)

  As to abandon, that which doth containe

  Your honours stile, that is your warlike shield.

  All perill ought be lesse, and lesse all paine

  Then losse of fame in disauentrous field;

  Dye rather, then doe ought, that mote dishonour yield.

  Not so; (quoth he) for yet when time doth serue,

  My former shield I may resume againe:

  To temporize is not from truth to swerue,

  Ne for aduantage terme to entertaine,

  When as necessitie doth it constraine.

  Fie on such forgerie (said Artegall)

  Vnder one hood to shadow faces twaine.

  Knights ought be true, and truth is one in all:

  Of all things to dissemble fouly may befall.

  Yet let me you of courtesie request,

  (Said Burbon) to assist me now at need

  Against these pesants, which haue me opprest,

  And forced me to so infamous deed,

  That yet my loue may from their hands be freed.

  Sir Artegall, albe he earst did wyte

  His wauering mind, yet to his aide agreed,

  And buckling him eftsoones vnto the fight,

  Did set vpon those troupes with all his powre and might.

  Who flocking round about them, as a swarme

  Of flyes vpon a birchen bough doth cluster,

  Did them assault with terrib
le allarme,

  And ouer all the fields themselues did muster,

  With bils and glayues making a dreadfull luster;

  That forst at first those knights backe to retyre:

  As when the wrathfull Boreas doth bluster,

  Nought may abide the tempest of his yre,

  Both man and beast doe fly, and succour doe inquyre.

  But when as ouerblowen was that brunt,

  Those knights began a fresh them to assayle,

  And all about the fields like Squirrels hunt;

  But chiefly Talus with his yron flayle,

  Gainst which no flight nor rescue mote auayle,

  Made cruell hauocke of the baser crew,

  And chaced them both ouer hill and dale:

  The raskall manie soone they ouerthrew,

  But the two knights themselues their captains did subdew.

  At last they came whereas that Ladie bode,

  Whom now her keepers had forsaken quight,

  To saue themselues, and scattered were abrode:

  Her halfe dismayd they found in doubtfull plight,

  As neither glad nor sorie for their sight;

  Yet wondrous faire she was, and richly clad

  In roiall robes, and many Iewels dight,

  But that those villens through their vsage bad

  Them fouly rent, and shamefully defaced had.

  But Burbon streight dismounting from his steed,

  Vnto her ran with greedie great desyre,

  And catching her fast by her ragged weed,

  Would haue embraced her with hart entyre.

  But she backstarting with disdainefull yre,

  Bad him auaunt, ne would vnto his lore

  Allured be, for prayer nor for meed.

  Whom when those knights so froward and forlore

  Beheld, they her rebuked and vpbrayded sore.

  Sayd Artegall; What foule disgrace is this,

  To so faire Ladie, as ye seeme in sight,

  To blot your beautie, that vnblemisht is,

  With so foule blame, as breach of faith once plight,

  Or change of loue for any worlds delight?

  Is ought on earth so pretious or deare,

  As prayse and honour? Or is ought so bright

  And beautifull, as glories beames appeare,

  Whose goodly light then Phebus lampe doth shine more cleare?