The Faerie Queene (17 page)

29
It fortuned (as faire it then befell)

Behind his backe vnweeting, where he stood,

Of auncient time there was a springing well,

From which fast trickled forth a siluer flood,

Full of great vertues, and for med'cine good.

Whylome, before that cursed Dragon got

That happie land, and all with innocent blood

Defyld those sacred waues, it rightly hot

The well of life,
ne yet his vertues had forgot.

30
For vnto life the dead it could restore,

And guilt of sinfull crimes cleane wash away,

Those that with sicknesse were infected sore,

It could recure, and aged long decay

Renew, as one were borne that very day.

Both
Silo
this, and
Iordan
did excell,

And th'English
Bath,
and eke the german
Spau,

Ne can
Cephise,
nor
Hebrus
match this well:

Into the same the knight backe ouerthrowen, fell.

31
Now gan the golden
Phœbus
for to steepe

His fierie face in billowes of the west,

And his faint steedes watred in Ocean deepe,

Whiles from their iournall labours they did rest,

When that infernall Monster, hauing kest

His wearie foe into that liuing well,

Can high aduance his broad discoloured brest,

Aboue his wonted pitch, with countenance fell,

And clapt his yron wings, as victor he did dwell.

32
Which when his pensiue Ladie saw from farre,

Great woe and sorrow did her soule assay;

As weening that the sad end of the warre,

And gan to highest God entirely pray,

That feared chance from her to turne away;

With folded hands and knees full lowly bent

All night she watcht, ne once adowne would lay

Her daintie limbs in her sad dreriment,

But praying still did wake, and waking did lament.

33
The morrow next gan early to appeare,

That
Titan
rose to runne his daily race;

But early ere the morrow next gan reare

Out of the sea faire
Titans
deawy face,

Vp rose the gentle virgin from her place,

And looked all about, if she might spy

Her loued knight to moue his manly pace:

For she had great doubt of his safety,

Since late she saw him fall before his enemy.

34
At last she saw, where he vpstarted braue

Out of the well, wherein he drenched lay;

As Eagle fresh out of the Ocean waue,

Where he hath left his plumes all hoary gray,

And deckt himselfe with feathers youthly gay,

Like Eyas hauke vp mounts vnto the skies,

His newly budded pineons to assay,

And marueiles at himselfe, still as he flies:

So new this new-borne knight to battell new did rise.

35
Whom when the damned feend so fresh did spy,

No wonder if he wondred at the sight,

And doubted, whether his late enemy

It were, or other new supplied knight.

He, now to proue his late renewed might,

High brandishing his bright deaw-burning blade,

Vpon his crested scalpe so sore did smite,

That to the scull a yawning wound it made:

The deadly dint his dulled senses all dismaid.

36
I wote not, whether the reuenging steele

Were hardned with that holy water dew,

Wherein he fell, or sharper edge did feele,

Or his baptized hands now greater grew;

Or other secret vertue did ensew;

Else neuer could the force of fleshly arme,

Ne molten mettall in his bloud embrew:

For till that stownd could neuer wight him harme,

By subtilty, nor slight, nor might, nor mighty charme.

37
The cruell wound enraged him so sore,

That loud he yelded for exceeding paine;

As hundred ramping Lyons seem'd to rore,

Whom rauenous hunger did thereto constraine:

Then gan he tosse aloft his stretched traine,

And therewith scourge the buxome aire so sore,

That to his force to yeelden it was faine;

Ne ought his sturdie strokes might stand afore,

That high trees ouerthrew, and rocks in peeces tore.

38
The same aduauncing high aboue his head,

With sharpe intended sting so rude him smot,

That to the earth him droue, as stricken dead,

Ne liuing wight would haue him life behot:

The mortall sting his angry needle shot

Quite through his shield, and in his shoulder seasd,

Where fast it stucke, ne would there out be got:

The griefe thereof him wondrous sore diseasd,

Ne might his ranckling paine with patience be appeasd.

39
But yet more mindfull of his honour deare,

Then of the grieuous smart, which him did wring,

From loathed soile he can him lightly reare,

And stroue to loose the farre infixed sting:

Which when in vaine he tryde with struggeling,

Inflam'd with wrath, his raging blade he heft,

And strooke so strongly, that the knotty string

Of his huge taile he quite a sunder cleft,

Fiue ioynts thereof he hewd, and but the stump him left.

40
Hart cannot thinke, what outrage, and what cryes,

With foule enfouldred smoake and flashing fire,

The hell-bred beast threw forth vnto the skyes,

That all was couered with darknesse dire:

Then fraught with rancour, and engorged ire,

He cast at once him to auenge for all,

And gathering vp himselfe out of the mire,

With his vneuen wings did fiercely fall,

Vpon his sunne-bright shield, and gript it fast withall.

41
Much was the man encombred with his hold,

In feare to lose his weapon in his paw,

Ne wist yet, how his talants to vnfold;

For harder was from
Cerberus
greedie iaw

To plucke a bone, then from his cruell claw

To reaue by strength, the griped gage away:

Thrise he assayd it from his foot to draw,

And thrise in vaine to draw it did assay,

It booted nought to thinke, to robbe him of his pray.

42
Tho when he saw no power might preuaile,

His trustie sword he cald to his last aid,

Wherewith he fiercely did his foe assaile,

And double blowes about him stoutly laid,

That glaundng fire out of the yron plaid;

As sparckles from the Anduile vse to fly,

When heauie hammers on the wedge are swaid;

Therewith at last he forst him to vnty

One of his grasping feete, him to defend thereby.

43
The other foot, fast fixed on his shield

Whenas no strength, nor stroks mote him constraine

To loose, ne yet the warlike pledge to yield,

He smot thereat with all his might and maine,

That nought so wondrous puissance might sustaine;

Vpon the ioynt the lucky steele did light,

And made such way, that hewd it quite in twaine;

The paw yet missed not his minisht might,

But hong still on the shield, as it at first was pight.

44
For griefe thereof, and diuelish despight,

From his infernall fournace forth he threw

Huge flames, that dimmed all the heauens light,

Enrold in duskish smoke and brimstone blew;

As burning
Aetna
from his boyling stew

Doth belch out flames, and rockes in peeces broke,

And ragged ribs of mountaines molten new,

Enwrapt in coleblacke clouds and filthy smoke,

That all the land with stench, and heauen with horror choke.

45
The heate whereof, and hannefull pestilence

So sore him noyd, that font him to retire

A little backward for his best defence,

To saue his bodie from the scorching fire,

Which he from hellish entrailes did expire.

It chaunst (eternall God that chaunce did guide)

As he recoyled backward, in the mire

His nigh forwearied feeble feet did slide,

And downe he fell, with dread of shame sore terrifide.

46
There grew a goodly tree him faire beside,

Loaden with fruit and apples rosie red,

As they in pure vermilion had beene dide,

Whereof great vertues ouer all were red:

For happie life to all, which thereon fed,

And life eke euerlasting did befall:

Great God it planted in that blessed sted

With his almightie hand, and did it call

The tree of life, the crime of our first fathers fall.

47
In all the world like was not to be found,

Saue in that soile, where all good things did grow,

And freely sprong out of the fruitfull ground,

As incorrupted Nature did them sow,

Till that dread Dragon all did ouerthrow.

Another like faire tree eke grew thereby,

Whereof who so did eat, eftsoones did know

Both good and ill: O mornefull memory:

That tree through one mans fault hath doen vs all to dy.

48
From that first tree forth flowd, as from a well,

A trickling streame of Balme, most soueraine

And daintie deare, which on the ground still fell,

And ouerflowed all the fertill plaine,

As it had deawed bene with timely raine:

Life and long health that gratious ointment gaue,

And deadly woundes could heale and reare againe

The senselesse corse appointed for the graue.

Into that same he fell: which did from death him saue.

49
For nigh thereto the euer damned beast

Durst not approch, for he was deadly made,

And all that life preserued, did detest:

Yet he it oft aduentur'd to inuade.

By this the drouping day-light gan to fade,

And yeeld his roome to sad succeeding night,

Who with her sable mantle gan to shade

The face of earth, and wayes of liuing wight,

And high her burning torch set vp in heauen bright.

50
When gentle
Vna
saw the second fall

Of her deare knight, who wearie of long fight,

And faint through losse of bloud, mou'd not at all,

But lay as in a dreame of deepe delight,

Besmeard with pretdous Balme, whose vertuous might

Did heale his wounds, and scorching heat alay,

Againe she stricken was with sore affright,

And for his safetie gan deuoutly pray;

And watch the noyous night, and wait for ioyous day.

51
The ioyous day gan early to appeare,

And faire
Aurora
from the deawy bed

Of aged
Tithone
gan her selfe to reare,

With rosie cheekes, for shame as blushing red;

Her golden lockes for haste were loosely shed

About her eares, when
Vna
her did marke

Clymbe to her charet, all with flowers spred;

From heauen high to chase the chearelesse darke,

With merry note her loud salutes the mounting larke.

52
Then freshly vp arose the doughtie knight,

All healed of his hurts and woundes wide,

And did himselfe to battell readie dight;

Whose early foe awaiting him beside

To haue deuourd, so soone as day he spyde,

When now he saw himselfe so freshly reare,

As if late fight had nought him damnifyde,

He woxe dismayd, and gan his fate to feare;

Nathlesse with wonted rage he him aduaunced neare.

53
And in his first encounter, gaping wide,

He thought attonce him to haue swallowd quight,

And rusht vpon him with outragious pride;

Who him r'encountring fierce, as hauke in flight,

Perforce rebutted backe. The weapon bright

Taking aduantage of his open iaw,

Ran through his mouth with so importune might,

That deepe emperst his darksome hollow maw,

And back retyrd, his life bloud forth with all did draw.

54
So downe he fell, and forth his life did breath,

That vanisht into smoke and cloudes swift;

So downe he fell, that th'earth him vnderneath

Did grone, as feeble so great load to lift;

So downe he fell, as an huge rockie clift,

Whose false foundation waues haue washt away,

With dreadfull poyse is from the mayneland rift,

And rolling downe, great
Neptune
doth dismay;

So downe he fell, and like an heaped mountaine lay.

55
The knight himselfe euen trembled at his fall,

So huge and horrible a masse it seem'd;

And his deare Ladie, that beheld it all,

Durst not approch for dread, which she misdeem'd,

But yet at last, when as the direfull feend

She saw not stirre, off-shaking vaine affright,

She nigher drew, and saw that ioyous end:

Then God she praysd, and thankt her faithfull knight,

That had atchieu'd so great a conquest by his might.

Faire Una to the Redcrosse knight
   betrouthed is with ioy:
Though false Duessa it to barre
   her false sleights doe imploy.

1
Behold I see the hauen nigh at hand,

To which I meane my wearie course to bend;

Vere the maine shete, and beare vp with the land,

The which afore is fairely to be kend,

And seemeth safe from stormes, that may offend;

There this faire virgin wearie of her way

Must landed be, now at her iourneyes end:

There eke my feeble barke a while may stay,

Till merry wind and weather call her thence away.

2
Scarsely had
Phœbus
in the glooming East

Yet harnessed his fine-footed teeme,

Ne reard aboue the earth his flaming creast,

When the last deadly smoke aloft did steeme,

That signe of last outbreathed life did seeme,

Vnto the watchman on the castle wall;

Who thereby dead that balefull Beast did deeme,

And to his Lord and Ladie lowd gan call,

To tell, how he had seene the Dragons fatall fall.

3
Vprose with hastie ioy, and feeble speed

That aged Sire, the Lord of all that land,

And looked forth, to weet, if true indeede

Those tydings were, as he did vnderstand,

Which whenas true by tryall he out found,

He bad to open wyde his brazen gate,

Which long time had bene shut, and out of hond

Proclaymed ioy and peace through all his state;

For dead now was their foe, which them forrayed late.

4
Then gan triumphant Trompets sound on hie,

That sent to heauen the ecchoed report

Of their new ioy, and happie victorie

Gainst him, that had them long opprest with tort,

And fast imprisoned in sieged fort.

Then all the people, as in solemne feast,

To him assembled with one full consort,

Reioycing at the fall of that great beast,

From whose etemall bondage now they were release

5
Forth came that auncient Lord and aged Queene,
s

Arayd in antique robes downe to the ground,

And sad habiliments right well beseene;

A noble crew about them waited round

Of sage and sober Peres, all grauely gownd;

Whom farre before did march a goodly band

Of tall young men, all hable armes to sownd,

But now they laurell braunches bore in hand;

Glad signe of victorie and peace in all their land.

6
Vnto that doughtie Conquerour they came,

And him before themselues prostrating low,

Their Lord and Patrone loud did him proclame,

And at his feet their laurell boughes did throw.

Soone after them all dauncing on a row

The comely virgins came, with girlands dight,

As fresh as flowres in medow greene do grow,

When morning deaw vpon their leaues doth light:

And in their hands sweet Timbrels all vpheld on bight.

7
And them before, the fry of children young

Their wanton sports and childish mirth did play,

And to the Maydens sounding tymbrels sung

In well attuned notes, a ioyous lay,

And made delightfull musicke all the way,

Vntill they came, where that faire virgin stood;

As faire
Diana
in fresh sommers day,

Beholds her Nymphes, enraung'd in shadie wood,

Some wrestle, some do run, some bathe in christall flood,

8
So she beheld those maydens meriment

With chearefull vew; who when to her they came,

Themselues to ground with gratious humblesse bent,

And her ador'd by honorable name,

Lifting to heauen her euerlasting fame:

Then on her head they set a girland greene,

And crowned her twixt earnest and twixt game;

Who in her selfe-resemblance well beseene,

Did seeme such, as she was, a goodly maiden Queene.

9
And after, all the raskall many ran,

Heaped together in rude rablement,

To see the face of that victorious man:

Whom all admired, as from heauen sent,

And gazd vpon with gaping wonderment.

But when they came, where that dead Dragon lay,

Stretcht on the ground in monstrous large extent,

The sight with idle feare did them dismay,

Ne durst approch him nigh, to touch, or once assay.

10
Some feard, and fled; some feard and well it faynd;

One that would wiser seeme, then all the rest,

Warnd him not touch, for yet perhaps remaynd

Some lingring life within his hollow brest,

Or in his wombe might lurke some hidden nest

Of many Dragonets, his fruitfull seed;

Another said, that in his eyes did rest

Yet sparckling fire, and bad thereof take heed;

Another said, he saw him moue his eyes indeed.

11
One mother, when as her foolehardie chyld

Did come too neare, and with his talants play,

Halfe dead through feare, her litle babe reuyld,

And to her gossips gan in counsell say;

How can I tell, but that his talants may

Yet scratch my sonne, or rend his tender hand?

So diuersly themselues in vaine they fray;

Whiles some more bold, to measure him nigh stand,

To proue how many acres he did spread of land.

12
Thus flocked all the folke him round about,

The whiles that hoarie king, with all his traine,

Being arriued, where that champion stout

After his foes defeasance did remaine,.

Him goodly greetes, and faire does entertaine,

With princely gifts of yuorie and gold,

And thousand thankes him yeelds for all his paine.

Then when his daughter deare he does behold,

Her dearely doth imbrace, and kisseth manifold.

13
And after to his Pallace he them brings.

With shaumes, & trompets, & with Clarions sweet;

And all the way the ioyous people sings,

And with their garments strowes the paued street:

Whence mounting vp, they find purueyance meet

Of all, that royall Princes court became,

And all the floore was vnderneath their feet

Bespred with costly scarlot of great name,

On which they lowly sit, and fitting purpose frame.

14
What needs me tell their feast and goodly guize,

In which was nothing riotous nor vaine?

What needs of daintie dishes to deuize,

Of comely seruices, or courtly trayne?

My narrow leaues cannot in them containe

The large discourse of royall Princes state.

Yet was their manner then but bare and plaine:

For th'antique world excesse and pride did hate;

Such proud luxurious pompe is swollen vp but late.

15
Then when with meates and drinkes of euery kinde

Their feruent appetites they quenched had,

That auncient Lord gan fit occasion finde,

Of straunge aduentures, and of perils sad,

Which in his trauell him befallen had,

For to demaund of his renowmed guest:

Who then with vtt'rance graue, and count'nance sad,

From point to point, as is before exprest,

Discount his voyage long, according his request

16
Great pleasure mixt with pittifull regard,

That godly King and Queene did passionate,

Whiles they his pittifull aduentures heard,

That oft they did lament his lucklesse state,

And often blame the too importune fate,

That heapd on him so many wrathfull wreakes:

For neuer gentle knight, as he of late,

So tossed was in fortunes cruell freakes;

And all the while salt teares bedeawd the hearers cheaks.

17
Then said the royall Pere in sober wise;

Deare Sonne, great beene the euils, which ye bore

From first to last in your late enterprise,

That I note, whether prayse, or pitty more:

For neuer liuing man, I weene, so sore

In sea of deadly daungers was distrest;

But since now safe ye seised haue the shore,

And well arriued are, (high God be blest)

Let vs deuize of ease and euerlasting rest.

18
Ah dearest Lord, said then that doughty knight,

Of ease or rest I may not yet deuize;

For by the faith, which I to armes haue plight,

I bounden am streight after this emprize,

As that your daughter can ye well aduize,

Backe to returne to that great Faerie Queene,

And her to serue six yeares in warlike wize,

Gainst that proud Paynim king, that workes her teene;

Therefore I ought craue pardon, till I there haue beene.

19
Vnhappie falles that hard necessirie,

(Quoth he) the troubler of my happie peace,

And vowed foe of my felicitie;

Ne I against the same can iustly preace:

But since that band ye cannot now release,

Nor doen vndo; (for vowes may not be vaine)

Soone as the terme of those six yeares shall cease,

Ye then shall hither backe returne againe,

The marriage to accomplish vowd betwixt you twain.

20
Which for my part I couet to performe,

In sort as through the world I did proclame,

That who so kild that monster most defonne,

And him in hardy battaile ouercame,

Should haue mine onely daughter to his Dame,

And of my kingdome heire apparaunt bee:

Therefore since now to thee perteines the same,

By dew desert of noble cheualree,

Both daughter and eke kingdome, lo I yield to thee.

21
Then forth he called that his daughter faire,

The fairest
Vn'
his onely daughter deare,

His onely daughter, and his onely heyre;

Who forth proceeding with sad sober cheare,

As bright as doth the morning starre appeare

Out of the East, with flaming lockes bedight,

To tell that dawning day is drawing neare,

And to the world does bring long wished light;

So faire and fresh that Lady shewd her selfe in sight

22
So faire and fresh, as freshest flowre in May;

For she had layd her mournefull stole aside,

And widow-like sad wimple throwne away,

Wherewith her heauenly beautie she did hide,

Whiles on her wearie iourney she did ride;

And on her now a garment she did weare,

All My white, withoutten spot, or pride,

That seemd like silke and siluer wouen neare,

But neither silke nor siluer therein did appeare.

23
The blazing brightnesse of her beauties beame,

And glorious light of her sunshyny face

To tell, were as to striue against the streame.

My ragged rimes are all too rude and bace,

Her heauenly lineaments for to enchace.

Ne wonder; for her owne deare loued knight,

All were she dayly with himselfe in place,

Did wonder much at her celestiall sight:

Oft had he seene her faire, but neuer so faire dight

24
So fairely dight, when she in presence came,

She to her Sire made humble reuerence,

And bowed low, that her right well became,

And added grace vnto her excellence:

Who with great wisedome, and graue eloquence

Thus gan to say. But eare he thus had said,

With flying speede, and seeming great pretence,

Came running in, much like a man dismaid,

A Messenger with letters, which his message said.

25
All in the open hall amazed stood,

At suddeinnesse of that vnwarie sight,

And wondred at his breathlesse hastie mood.

But he for nought would stay his passage right,

Till fast before the king he did alight;

Where Ming flat, great humblesse he did make,

And kist the ground, whereon his foot was pight;

Then to his hands that writ he did betake,

Which he disclosing, red thus, as the paper spake.

26
To thee, most mighty king of
Eden
faire,

Her greeting sends in these sad lines addrest,

The wofull daughter, and forsaken heire

Of that great Emperour of all the West;

And bids thee be aduized for the best,

Ere thou thy daughter linck in holy band

Of wedlocke to that new vnknowen guest:

For he already plighted his right hand

Vnto another loue, and to another land.

27
To me sad mayd, or rather widow sad,

He was affiaunced long time before,

And sacred pledges he both gaue, and had,

False erraunt knight, infamous, and forswore:

Witnesse the burning Altars, which he swore,

And guiltie heauens of his bold penury,

Which though he hath polluted oft of yore,

Yet I to them for iudgement iust do fly,

And them coniure t'auenge this shamefull iniury.

28
Therefore since mine he is, or free or bond,

Or false or trew, or liuing or else dead,

Withhold, O soueraine Prince, your hasty hond

From knitting league with him, I you aread;

Ne weene my right with strength adowne to tread,

Through weakenesse of my widowhed, or woe:

For truth is strong, his rightfull cause to plead,

And shall find friends, if need requireth soe,

So bids thee well to fare, Thy neither friend, nor foe,
Fidessa.

29
When he these bitter byting words had red,

The tydings straunge did him abashed make,

That still he sate long time astonished

As in great muse, ne word to creature spake.