The Faerie Queene (42 page)

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Authors: Edmund Spenser

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And had not
Carados
her hand withheld

From rash reuenge, she had him surely slaine,

Yet
Carados
himselfe from her escapt with paine.

56
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 thyselfe, and equall courage to thee take.

57
Her harry 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.

58
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.

59
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
Glaucee
thither led

Faire
Britomart,
and that same Armory

Downe taking, her therein appareled,

Well as she might, and with braue bauldrick garnished.

60
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.

61
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

62
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
Arihegall,
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.

CANTO IV

Bold Marinell of Britomart,
   Is throwne on the Rich strond:
Faire Florimell of Arthur is
   Long followed, but not fond.

1
Where 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?

2
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.

3
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.

4
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.

5
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.

6
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.

7
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,

That the fast earth affronted them so sore,

And their deuouring couetize restraynd,

Thereat she sighed deepe, and after thus complaynd.

8
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.

9
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?

10
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.

11
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.

12
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

Her Helmet, to her Courser mounting light:

Her former sorrow into suddein wrath,

Both coosen passions of distroubled spright,

Conuerting, forth she beates the dustie path;

Loue and despight attonce her courage kindled hath.

13
As when a foggy mist hath ouercast

The face of heauen, and the cleare aire engrost,

The world in darkenesse dwels, till that at last

The watry Southwinde from the seabord cost

Vpblowing, doth disperse the vapour lo'st,

And poures it selfe forth in a stormy showre;

So the faire
Britomart
hauing disclo'st

Her dowdy care into a wrathfull stowre,

The mist of griefe dissolu'd, did into vengeance powre.

14
Eftsoones her goodly shield addressing faire,

That mortall speare she in her hand did take,

And vnto battell did her selfe prepaire.

The knight approching, sternely her bespake;

Sir knight, that doest thy voyage rashly make

By this forbidden way in my despight,

Ne doest by others death ensample take,

I read thee soone retyre, whiles thou hast might,

Least afterwards it be too late to take thy flight.

15
Ythrild with deepe disdaine of his proud threat,

She shortly thus; Fly they, that need to fly;

Words fearen babes. I meane not thee entreat

To passe; but maugre thee will passe or dy.

Ne lenger stayd for th'other to reply,

But with sharpe speare the rest made dearly knowne.

Strongly the straunge knight ran, and sturdily

Strooke her full on the brest, that made her downe

Decline her head, & touch her crouper with her crowne.

16
But she againe him in the shield did smite

With so fierce furie and great puissaunce,

That through his threesquare scuchin percing quite,

And through his mayled hauberque by mischaunce

The wicked steele through his left side did glaunce;

Him so transfixed she before her bore

Beyond his croupe, the length of all her launce,

Till sadly soucing on the sandie shore,

He tombled on an heape, and wallowd in his gore.

17
Like as the sacred Oxe, that carelesse stands,

With gilden hornes, and flowry girlonds crownd,

Proud of his dying honor and deare bands,

Whiles th'altars fume with frankincense arownd,

All suddenly with mortall stroke astownd,

Doth groueling fall, and with his streaming gore

Distaines the pillours, and the holy grownd,

And the fire flowres, that decked him afore;

So fell proud
Marinell
vpon the pretious shore.

18
The martiall Mayd stayd not him to lament,

But forward rode, and kept her readie way

Along the strond, which as she ouer-went,

She saw bestrowed all with rich aray

Of pearles and pretious stones of great assay,

And all the grauell mixt with golden owre;

Whereat she wondred much, but would not stay

For gold, or perles, or pretious stones an howre,

But them despised all; for all was in her powre.

19
Whiles thus he lay in deadly stonishment,

Tydings hereof came to his mothers eare;

His mother was the blacke-browd
Cymoent,

The daughter of great
Nereus,
which did beare

This warlike sonne vnto an earthly peare,

The famous
Dumarin;
who on a day

Finding the Nymph asleepe in secret wheare,

As he by chaunce did wander that same way,

Was taken with her loue, and by her closely lay.

20
There he this knight of her begot, whom borne

She of his father
Marinell
did name,

And in a rocky caue as wight forlorne,

Long time she fostred vp, till he became

A mightie man at armes, and mickle fame

Did get through great aduentures by him donne:

For neuer man he suffred by that same

Rich strond
to trauell, whereas he did wonne,

But that he must do battell with the Sea-nymphes sonne.

21
An hundred knights of honorable name

He had subdew'd, and them his vassals made,

That through all Farie lond his noble fame

Now blazed was, and feare did all inuade,

That none durst passen through that perilous glade.

And to aduance his name and glorie more,

Her Sea-god syre she dearely did perswade,

T'endow her sonne with threasure and rich store,

Boue all the sonnes, that were of earthly wombes ybore.

22
The God did graunt his daughters deare demaund,

To doen his Nephew in all riches flow;

Eftsoones his heaped waues he did commaund,

Out of their hollow bosome forth to throw

All the huge threasure, which the sea below

Had in his greedie gulfe deuoured deepe,

And him enriched through the ouerthrow

And wreckes of many wretches, which did weepe,

And often waile their wealth, which he from them did keepe.

23
Shortly vpon that shore there heaped was,

Exceeding riches and all pretious things,

The spoyle of all the world, that it did pas

The wealth of th'East, and pompe of
Persian
kings;

Gold, amber, yuorie, perles, owches, rings,

And all that else was pretious and deare,

The sea vnto him voluntary brings,

That shortly he a great Lord did appeare,

As was in all the lond of Faery, or elsewheare,

24
Thereto he was a doughtie dreaded knight,

Tryde often to the scath of many deare,

That none in equall armes him matchen might,

The which his mother seeing, gan to feare

Least his too haughtie hardines might reare

Some hard mishap, in hazard of his life:

For thy she oft him counseld to forbeare

The bloudie battell, and to stirre vp strife,

But after all his warre, to rest his wearie knife.

23
And for his more assurance, she inquir'd

One day of
Proteus
by his mightie spell,

(For
Proteus
was with prophecie inspir'd)

Her deare sonnes destinie to her to tell,

And the sad end of her sweet
Marinell.

Who through foresight of his eternall skill,

Bad her from womankind to keepe him well:

For of a woman he should haue much ill,

A virgin strange and stout him should dismay, or kill.

26
For thy she gaue him warning euery day,

The loue of women not to entertaine;

A lesson too too hard for liuing clay,

From loue in course of nature to refraine:

Yet he his mothers lore did well retaine,

And euer from faire Ladies loue did fly;

Yet many Ladies faire did oft complaine,

That they for loue of him would algates dy:

Dy, who so list for him, he was loues enimy.

27
But ah, who can deceiue his destiny,

Or weene by warning to auoyd his fate?

That when he sleepes in most security,

And safest seemes, him soonest doth amate,

And findeth dew effect or soone or late.

So feeble is the powre of fleshly arme.

His mother bad him womens loue to hate,

For she of womans force did feare no harme;

So weening to haue arm'd him, she did quite disarme.

28
This was that woman, this that deadly wound,

That
Proteus
prophecide should him dismay,

The which his mother vainely did expound,

To be hart-wounding loue, which should assay

To bring her sonne vnto his last decay.

So tickle be the termes of mortall state,

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