SPENSER’S FAERIE QUEENE (continued 5)

Prince Arthure and Sir Artegall, Free Samient from feare: They slay the Soudan, driue his wife, Adicia to despaire.

Nought vnder heauen so strongly doth allure i The sence of man, and all his minde possesse, As beauties louely baite, that doth procure Great warriours oft their rigour to represse, And mighty hands forget their manlinesse; Drawne with the powre of an heart-robbing eye, And wrapt in fetters of a golden tresse, That can with melting pleasaunce mollifye Their hardned hearts, enur’d to bloud and cruelty. So whylome learnd that mighty Iewish swaine, ii Each of whose lockes did match a man in might, To lay his spoiles before his lemans traine: So also did that great Oetean Knight For his loues sake his Lions skin vndight: And so did warlike Antony neglect The worlds whole rule for Cleopatras sight. Such wondrous powre hath wemens faire aspect, To captiue men, and make them all the world reiect. Yet could it not sterne Artegall retaine, iii Nor hold from suite of his auowed quest, Which he had vndertane to Gloriane; But left his loue, albe her strong request, Faire Britomart in languor and vnrest, And rode him selfe vppon his first intent: Ne day nor night did euer idly rest; Ne wight but onely Talus with him went, The true guide of his way and vertuous gouernment. So trauelling, he chaunst far oft to heed iv A Damzell, flying on a palfrey fast Before two Knights, that after her did speed With all their powre, and her full fiercely chast In hope to haue her ouerhent at last: Yet fled she fast, and both them farre outwent, Carried with wings of feare, like fowle aghast, With locks all loose, and rayment all to rent; And euer as she rode, her eye was backeward bent. Soone after these he saw another Knight, v That after those two former rode apace, With speare in rest, and prickt with all his might: So ran they all, as they had bene at bace, They being chased, that did others chase. At length he saw the hindmost ouertake One of those two, and force him turne his face; How euer loth he were his way to slake, Yet mote he algates now abide, and answere make. But th’other still pursu’d the fearefull Mayd; vi Who still from him as fast away did flie, Ne once for ought her speedy passage stayd, Till that at length she did before her spie Sir Artegall, to whom she streight did hie With gladfull hast, in hope of him to get Succour against her greedy enimy: Who seeing her approch gan forward set, To saue her from her feare, and him from force to let. But he like hound full greedy of his pray, vii Being impatient of impediment, Continu’d still his course, and by the way Thought with his speare him quight haue ouerwent. So both together ylike felly bent, Like fiercely met. But Artegall was stronger, And better skild in Tilt and Turnament, And bore him quite out of his saddle, longer Then two speares length; So mischiefe ouermatcht the wronger. And in his fall misfortune him[320] mistooke; viii For on his head vnhappily he pight, That his owne waight his necke asunder broke, And left there dead. Meane while the other Knight Defeated had the other faytour quight, And all his bowels in his body brast: Whom leauing there in that dispiteous[321] plight, He ran still on, thinking to follow fast His other fellow Pagan, which before him past. In stead of whom finding there ready prest ix Sir Artegall, without discretion He at him ran, with ready speare in rest: Who seeing him come still so fiercely on, Against him made againe. So both anon Together met, and strongly either strooke And broke their speares; yet neither has forgon His horses backe, yet to and fro long shooke, And tottred like two towres, which through a tempest quooke. But when againe they had recouered sence, x They drew their swords, in mind to make amends For what their speares had fayld of their pretence. Which when the Damzell, who those deadly ends Of both her foes had seene, and now her frends For her beginning a more fearefull fray, She to them runnes in hast, and her haire rends, Crying to them their cruell hands to stay, Vntill they both doe heare, what she to them will say. They stayd their hands, when she thus gan to speake; xi Ah gentle Knights, what meane ye thus vnwise Vpon your selues anothers wrong to wreake? I am the wrong’d, whom ye did enterprise Both to redresse, and both redrest likewise: Witnesse the Paynims both, whom ye may see There dead on ground. What doe ye then deuise Of more reuenge? if more, then I am shee, Which was the roote of all, end your reuenge on mee. Whom when they heard so say, they lookt about, xii To weete if it were true, as she had told; Where when they saw their foes dead out of doubt, Eftsoones they gan their wrothfull hands to hold, And Ventailes reare, each other to behold. Tho when as Artegall did Arthure vew, So faire a creature, and so wondrous bold, He much admired both his heart and hew, And touched with intire affection, nigh him drew. Saying, Sir[322] Knight, of pardon I you pray, xiii That all vnweeting haue you wrong’d thus sore, Suffring my hand against my heart to stray: Which if ye please forgiue, I will therefore Yeeld for amends my selfe yours euermore, Or what so penaunce shall by you be red. To whom the Prince; Certes me needeth more To craue the same, whom errour so misled, As that I did mistake the liuing for the ded. But sith ye please, that both our blames shall die, xiv Amends may for the trespasse soone be made, Since[323] neither is endamadg’d much thereby. So can they both them selues full eath perswade To faire accordaunce, and both faults to shade, Either embracing other louingly, And swearing faith to either on his blade, Neuer thenceforth to nourish enmity, But either others cause to maintaine mutually. Then Artegall gan of the Prince enquire, xv What were those knights, which there on ground were layd, And had receiu’d their follies worthy hire, And for what cause they chased so that Mayd. Certes I wote not well (the Prince then sayd) But by aduenture found them faring so, As by the way vnweetingly I strayd, And lo the Damzell selfe, whence all did grow, Of whom we may at will the whole occasion know. Then they that Damzell called to them[324] nie, xvi And asked her, what were those two her fone, From whom she earst so fast away did flie; And what was she her selfe so woe begone, And for what cause pursu’d of them attone. To whom she thus; Then wote ye well, that I Doe serue a Queene, that not far hence doth wone, A Princesse of great powre and maiestie, Famous through all the world, and honor’d far and nie. Her name Mercilla most men vse to call; xvii That is a mayden Queene of high renowne, For her great bounty knowen ouer all, And soueraine grace, with which her royall crowne She doth support, and strongly beateth downe The malice of her foes, which her enuy, And at her happinesse do fret and frowne: Yet she her selfe the more doth magnify, And euen to her foes her mercies multiply. Mongst many which maligne her happy state, xviii There is a mighty man, which wonnes here by[325] That with most fell despight and deadly hate, Seekes to subuert her Crowne and dignity, And all his powre doth thereunto apply: And her good Knights, of which so braue a band Serues her, as any Princesse vnder sky, He either spoiles, if they against him stand, Or to his part allures, and bribeth vnder hand. Ne him sufficeth all the wrong and ill, xix Which he vnto her people does each day, But that he seekes by traytrous traines to spill Her person, and her sacred selfe to slay: That O ye heauens defend, and turne away From her, vnto the miscreant him selfe, That neither hath religion nor fay, But makes his God of his vngodly pelfe, And Idols serues; so let his Idols serue the Elfe. To all which cruell tyranny they say, xx He is prouokt, and stird vp day and night By his bad wife, that hight Adicia, Who counsels him through confidence of might, To breake all bonds of law, and rules of right. For she her selfe professeth mortall foe To Iustice, and against her still doth fight, Working to all, that loue her, deadly woe, And making all her Knights and people to doe so. Which my liege Lady seeing, thought it best, xxi With that his wife in friendly wise to deale, For stint of strife, and stablishment of rest Both to her selfe, and to her common weale, And all forepast displeasures to repeale. So me in message vnto her she sent, To treat with her by way of enterdeale, Of finall peace and faire attonement, Which might concluded be by mutuall consent. All times haue wont safe passage to afford xxii To messengers, that come for causes iust: But this proude Dame disdayning all accord, Not onely into bitter termes forth brust, Reuiling me, and rayling as she lust, But lastly to make proofe of vtmost shame, Me like a dog she out of dores did thrust, Miscalling me by many a bitter name, That neuer did her ill, ne once deserued blame. And lastly, that no shame might wanting be, xxiii When I was gone, soone after me she sent These two false Knights, whom there ye lying see, To be by them dishonoured and shent: But thankt be God, and your good hardiment, They haue the price of their owne folly payd. So said this Damzell, that hight Samient, And to those knights, for their so noble ayd, Her selfe most gratefull shew’d, and heaped thanks repayd. But they now hauing throughly heard, and seene xxiv Al those great wrongs, the which that mayd complained[326] To haue bene done against her Lady Queene, By that proud dame, which her so much disdained, Were moued much thereat, and twixt them fained, With all their force to worke auengement strong Vppon the Souldan selfe, which it mayntained, And on his Lady, th’author of that wrong, And vppon all those Knights, that did to her belong. But thinking best by counterfet disguise xxv To their deseigne to make the easier way, They did this complot twixt them selues deuise, First, that sir Artegall should him array, Like one of those two Knights, which dead there lay. And then that Damzell, the sad Samient, Should as his purchast prize with him conuay Vnto the Souldans court, her to present Vnto his scornefull Lady, that for her had sent. So as they had deuiz’d, sir Artegall xxvi Him clad in th’armour of a Pagan knight, And taking with him, as his vanquisht thrall, That Damzell, led her to the Souldans right. Where soone as his proud wife of her had sight, Forth of her window as she looking lay, She weened streight, it was her Paynim Knight, Which brought that Damzell, as his purchast pray; And sent to him a Page, that mote direct his way. Who bringing them to their appointed place, xxvii Offred his seruice to disarme the Knight; But he refusing him to let vnlace, For doubt to be discouered by his sight, Kept himselfe still in his straunge armour dight. Soone after whom the Prince arriued there, And sending to the Souldan in despight A bold defyance, did of him requere That Damzell, whom he held as wrongfull prisonere. Wherewith the Souldan all with furie fraught, xxviii Swearing, and banning most blasphemously, Commaunded straight his armour to be brought, And mounting straight vpon a charret hye, With yron wheeles and hookes arm’d dreadfully, And drawne of cruell steedes, which he had fed With flesh of men, whom through fell tyranny He slaughtred had, and ere they were halfe ded, Their bodies to his beasts for prouender did spred. So forth he came all in a cote of plate, xxix Burnisht with bloudie rust, whiles on the greene The Briton Prince him readie did awayte, In glistering armes right goodly well beseene, That shone as bright, as doth the heauen sheene; And by his stirrup Talus did attend, Playing his pages part, as he had beene Before directed by his Lord; to th’end He should his flale to finall execution bend. Thus goe they both together to their geare, xxx With like fierce minds, but meanings different: For the proud Souldan with presumpteous[327] cheare, And countenance sublime and insolent, Sought onely slaughter and auengement: But the braue Prince for honour and for right, Gainst tortious powre and lawlesse regiment, In the behalfe of wronged weake did fight: More in his causes truth he trusted then in might. Like to the Thracian Tyrant, who they say xxxi Vnto his horses gaue his guests for meat, Till he himselfe was made their greedie pray, And torne in peeces by Alcides great. So thought the Souldan in his follies threat, Either the Prince in peeces to haue torne With his sharpe wheeles, in his first rages heat, Or vnder his fierce horses feet haue borne And trampled downe in dust his thoughts disdained scorne. But the bold child that perill well espying, xxxii If he too rashly to his charet drew, Gaue way vnto his horses speedie flying, And their resistlesse rigour did eschew. Yet as he passed by, the Pagan threw A shiuering dart with so impetuous force, That had he not it shun’d with heedfull vew, It had himselfe transfixed, or his horse, Or made them both one masse withouten more remorse. Oft drew the Prince vnto his charret nigh, xxxiii In hope some stroke to fasten on him neare; But he was mounted in his seat so high, And his wingfooted coursers him did beare So fast away, that ere his readie speare He could aduance, he farre was gone and past. Yet still he him did follow euery where, And followed was of him likewise full fast; So long as in his steedes the flaming breath did last. Againe the Pagan threw another dart, xxxiv Of which he had with him abundant store, On euery side of his embatteld cart, And of all other weapons lesse or more, Which warlike vses had deuiz’d of yore. The wicked shaft guyded through th’ayrie wyde, By some bad spirit, that it to mischiefe bore, Stayd not, till through his curat it did glyde, And made a griesly wound in his enriuen side. Much was he grieued with that haplesse throe, xxxv That opened had the welspring of his blood; But much the more that to his hatefull foe He mote not come, to wreake his wrathfull mood. That made him raue, like to a Lyon wood, Which being wounded of the huntsmans hand Can not come neare him in the couert wood, Where he with boughes hath built his shady stand, And fenst himselfe about with many a flaming brand. Still when he sought t’approch vnto him ny, xxxvi His charret wheeles about him whirled round, And made him backe againe as fast to fly; And eke his steedes like to an hungry hound, That hunting after game hath carrion found, So cruelly did him pursew and chace, That his good steed, all were he much renound For noble courage, and for hardie race, Durst not endure their sight, but fled from place to place. Thus long they trast, and trauerst to and fro, xxxvii Seeking by euery way to make some breach, Yet could the Prince not nigh vnto him goe, That one sure stroke he might vnto him reach, Whereby his strengthes assay he might him teach. At last from his victorious shield he drew The vaile, which did his powrefull light empeach; And comming full before his horses vew, As they vpon him prest, it plaine to them did shew. Like lightening flash, that hath the gazer burned, xxxviii So did the sight thereof their sense dismay, That backe againe vpon themselues they turned, And with their ryder ranne perforce away: Ne could the Souldan them from flying stay, With raynes, or wonted rule, as well he knew. Nought feared they, what he could do, or say, But th’onely feare, that was before their vew; From which like mazed deare, dismayfully they flew. Fast did they fly, as them their feete could beare, xxxix High ouer hilles, and lowly ouer dales, As they were follow’d of their former feare. In vaine the Pagan bannes, and sweares, and rayles, And backe with both his hands vnto him hayles The resty raynes, regarded now no more: He to them calles and speakes, yet nought auayles; They heare him not, they haue forgot his lore, But go, which way they list, their guide they haue forlore. As when the firie-mouthed steeds, which drew xl The Sunnes bright wayne to Phaetons decay, Soone as they did the monstrous Scorpion vew, With vgly craples crawling in their way, The dreadfull sight did them so sore affray, That their well knowen[328] courses they forwent, And leading th’euer-burning lampe astray, This lower world nigh all to ashes brent, And left their scorched path yet in the firmament. Such was the furie of these head-strong steeds, xli Soone as the infants sunlike shield they saw, That all obedience both to words and deeds They quite forgot, and scornd all former law; Through woods, and rocks, and mountaines they did draw The yron charet, and the wheeles did teare, And tost the Paynim, without feare or awe; From side to side they tost him here and there, Crying to them in vaine, that nould his crying heare. Yet still the Prince pursew’d him close behind, xlii Oft making offer him to smite, but found No easie meanes according to his mind. At last they haue all ouerthrowne to ground Quite topside turuey, and the pagan hound Amongst the yron hookes and graples keene, Torne all to rags, and rent with many a wound, That no whole peece of him was to be seene, But scattred all about, and strow’d vpon the greene. Like as the cursed sonne of Theseus, xliii That following his chace in dewy morne, To fly his stepdames loues outrageous, Of his owne steedes was all to peeces torne, And his faire limbs left in the woods forlorne; That for his sake Diana did lament, And all the wooddy Nymphes did wayle and mourne. So was this Souldan rapt and all to rent, That of his shape appear’d no litle moniment. Onely his shield and armour, which there lay, xliv Though nothing whole, but all to brusd and broken, He vp did take, and with him brought away, That mote remaine for an eternall token To all, mongst whom this storie should be spoken, How worthily, by heauens high decree, Iustice that day of wrong her selfe had wroken, That all men which that spectacle did see, By like ensample mote for euer warned bee. So on a tree, before the Tyrants dore, xlv He caused them be hung in all mens sight, To be a moniment for euermore. Which when his Ladie from the castles hight Beheld, it much appald her troubled spright: Yet not, as women wont in dolefull fit, She was dismayd, or faynted through affright, But gathered vnto her her troubled wit, And gan eftsoones deuize to be aueng’d for it. Streight downe she ranne, like an enraged cow, xlvi That is berobbed of her youngling dere, With knife in hand, and fatally did vow, To wreake her on that mayden messengere, Whom she had causd be kept as prisonere, By Artegall, misween’d for her owne Knight, That brought her backe. And comming present there, She at her ran with all her force and might, All flaming with reuenge and furious despight. Like raging Ino, when with knife in hand xlvii She threw her husbands murdred infant out, Or fell Medea, when on Colchicke strand Her brothers bones she scattered all about; Or as that madding mother, mongst the rout Of Bacchus Priests her owne deare flesh did teare. Yet neither Ino, nor Medea stout, Nor all the Mœnades so furious were, As this bold woman, when she saw that Damzell there. But Artegall being thereof aware, xlviii Did stay her cruell hand, ere she her raught, And as she did her selfe to strike prepare, Out of her fist the wicked weapon caught: With that like one enfelon’d or distraught, She forth did rome, whether[329] her rage her bore, With franticke passion, and with furie fraught; And breaking forth out at a posterne dore, Vnto the wyld wood ranne, her dolours to deplore. As a mad[330] bytch, when as the franticke fit xlix Her burning tongue with rage inflamed hath, Doth runne at randon, and with furious bit Snatching at euery thing, doth wreake her wrath On man and beast, that commeth in her path. There they doe say, that she transformed was Into a Tygre, and that Tygres scath In crueltie and outrage she did pas, To proue her surname true, that she imposed has. Then Artegall himselfe discouering plaine, l Did issue forth gainst all that warlike rout Of knights and armed men, which did maintaine That Ladies part, and to the Souldan lout: All which he did assault with courage stout, All were they nigh an hundred knights of name, And like wyld Goates them chaced all about, Flying from place to place with cowheard[331] shame, So that with finall force them all he ouercame. Then caused he the gates be opened wyde, li And there the Prince, as victour of that day, With tryumph entertayn’d and glorifyde, Presenting him with all the rich array, And roiall pompe, which there long hidden lay, Purchast through lawlesse powre and tortious wrong Of that proud Souldan, whom he earst did slay. So both for rest there hauing stayd not long, Marcht with that mayd, fit matter for another song.

Arthur and Artegall catch Guyle whom Talus doth dismay, They to Mercillaes pallace come, and see her rich array.

What Tygre, or what other salvage wight i Is so exceeding furious and fell, As wrong, when it hath arm’d it selfe with might? Not fit mongst men, that doe with reason mell, But mongst wyld beasts and saluage woods to dwell; Where still the stronger doth the weake deuoure, And they that most in boldnesse doe excell, Are dreadded most, and feared for their powre: Fit for Adicia, there to build her wicked bowre. There let her wonne farre from resort of men, ii Where righteous Artegall her late exyled; There let her euer keepe her damned den, Where none may be with her lewd parts defyled, Nor none but beasts may be of her despoyled: And turne we to the noble Prince, where late We did him leaue, after that he had foyled The cruell Souldan, and with dreadfull fate Had vtterly subuerted his vnrighteous state. Where hauing with Sir Artegall a space iii Well solast in that Souldans late delight, They both resoluing now to leaue the place, Both it and all the wealth therein behight Vnto that Damzell in her Ladies right, And so would haue departed on their way. But she them woo’d by all the meanes she might, And earnestly besought, to wend that day With her, to see her Ladie thence not farre away. By whose entreatie both they ouercommen, iv Agree to goe with her, and by the way, (As often falles) of sundry things did commen. Mongst which that Damzell did to them bewray A straunge aduenture, which not farre thence lay; To weet a wicked villaine, bold and stout, Which wonned in a rocke not farre away, That robbed all the countrie there about, And brought the pillage home, whence none could get it out. Thereto both his owne wylie wit, (she sayd) v And eke the fastnesse of his dwelling place, Both vnassaylable, gaue him great ayde: For he so crafty was to forge and face, So light of hand, and nymble of his pace, So smooth of tongue, and subtile in his tale, That could deceiue one looking in his face; Therefore by name Malengin they him call, Well knowen by his feates, and famous ouer all. Through these his slights he many doth confound, vi And eke the rocke, in which he wonts to dwell, Is wondrous strong, and hewen farre vnder ground A dreadfull depth, how deepe no man can tell; But some doe say, it goeth downe to hell. And all within, it full of wyndings is, And hidden wayes, that scarse an hound by smell Can follow out those false footsteps of his, Ne none can backe returne, that once are gone amis. Which when those knights had heard, their harts gan earne[332], vii To vnderstand that villeins dwelling place, And greatly it desir’d of her to learne, And by which way they towards it should trace. Were not (sayd she) that it should let your pace Towards my Ladies presence by you ment, I would you guyde directly to the place. Then let not that (said they) stay your intent; For neither will one foot, till we that carle haue hent. So forth they past, till they approched ny viii Vnto the rocke, where was the villains won, Which when the Damzell neare at hand did spy, She warn’d the knights thereof: who thereupon Gan to aduize, what best were to be done. So both agreed, to send that mayd afore, Where she might sit nigh to the den alone, Wayling, and raysing pittifull vprore, As if she did some great calamitie deplore. With noyse whereof when as the caytiue carle ix Should issue forth, in hope to find some spoyle, They in awayt would closely him ensnarle, Ere to his den he backward could recoyle, And so would hope him easily to foyle. The Damzell straight went, as she was directed, Vnto the rocke, and there vpon the soyle Hauing her selfe in wretched wize abiected, Gan weepe and wayle, as if great griefe had her affected. The cry whereof entring the hollow caue, x Eftsoones brought forth the villaine, as they ment, With hope of her some wishfull boot to haue. Full dreadfull wight he was, as euer went Vpon the earth, with hollow eyes deepe pent, And long curld locks, that downe his shoulders shagged, And on his backe an vncouth vestiment Made of straunge[333] stuffe, but all to worne and ragged, And vnderneath his breech was all to torne and iagged. And in his hand an huge long staffe he held, xi Whose top was arm’d with many an yron hooke, Fit to catch hold of all that he could weld, Or in the compasse of his clouches tooke; And euer round about he cast his looke. Als at his backe a great wyde net he bore, With which he seldome fished at the brooke, But vsd to fish for fooles on the dry shore, Of which he in faire weather wont to take great store. Him when the damzell saw fast by her side, xii So vgly creature, she was nigh dismayd, And now for helpe aloud in earnest cride. But when the villaine saw her so affrayd, He gan with guilefull words her to perswade, To banish feare, and with Sardonian smyle Laughing on her, his false intent to shade, Gan forth to lay his bayte her to beguyle, That from her self vnwares he might her steale the whyle. Like as the fouler on his guilefull pype xiii Charmes to the birds full many a pleasant lay, That they the whiles may take lesse heedie keepe, How he his nets doth for their ruine lay: So did the villaine to her prate and play, And many pleasant trickes before her show, To turne her eyes from his intent away: For he in slights and iugling feates did flow, And of legierdemayne the mysteries did know. To which whilest she lent her intentiue mind, xiv He suddenly his net vpon her threw, That ouersprad her like a puffe of wind; And snatching her soone vp, ere well she knew, Ran with her fast away vnto his mew, Crying for helpe aloud. But when as ny He came vnto his caue, and there did vew The armed knights stopping his passage by, He threw his burden downe, and fast away did fly. But Artegall him after did pursew, xv The whiles the Prince there kept the entrance still: Vp to the rocke he ran, and thereon flew Like a wyld Gote, leaping from hill to hill, And dauncing on the craggy cliffes at will; That deadly daunger seem’d in all mens sight, To tempt such steps, where footing was so ill: Ne ought auayled for the armed knight, To thinke to follow him, that was so swift and light. Which when he saw, his yron man he sent, xvi To follow him; for he was swift in chace. He him pursewd, where euer that he went, Both ouer rockes, and hilles, and euery place, Where so he fled, he followd him apace: So that he shortly forst him to forsake The hight, and downe descend vnto the base. There he him courst a fresh, and soone did make To leaue his proper forme, and other shape to take. Into a Foxe himselfe he first did tourne; xvii But he him hunted like a Foxe full fast: Then to a bush himselfe he did transforme, But he the bush did beat, till that at last Into a bird it chaung’d, and from him past, Flying from tree to tree, from wand to wand: But he then stones at it so long did cast, That like a stone it fell vpon the land, But he then tooke it vp, and held fast in his hand. So he it brought with him vnto the knights, xviii And to his Lord Sir Artegall it lent, Warning him hold it fast, for feare of slights. Who whilest in hand it gryping hard[334] he hent, Into a Hedgehogge all vnwares it went, And prickt him so, that he away it threw. Then gan it runne away incontinent, Being returned to his former hew: But Talus soone him ouertooke, and backward drew. But when as he would to a snake againe xix Haue turn’d himselfe, he with his yron flayle Gan driue at him, with so huge might and maine, That all his bones, as small as sandy grayle He broke, and did his bowels disentrayle; Crying in vaine for helpe, when helpe was past. So did deceipt the selfe deceiuer fayle, There they him left a carrion outcast; For beasts and foules to feede vpon for their repast. Thence forth they passed with that gentle Mayd, xx To see her Ladie, as they did agree. To which when she approched, thus she sayd; Loe now, right noble knights, arriu’d ye bee Nigh to the place, which ye desir’d to see: There shall ye see my souerayne Lady Queene Most sacred wight, most debonayre and free, That euer yet vpon this earth was seene, Or that with Diademe hath euer crowned beene. The gentle knights reioyced much to heare xxi The prayses of that Prince so manifold, And passing litle further, commen were, Where they a stately pallace did behold, Of pompous show, much more then she had told; With many towres, and tarras mounted hye, And all their tops bright glistering with gold, That seemed to outshine the dimmed skye, And with their brightnesse daz’d the straunge beholders eye. There they alighting, by that Damzell were xxii Directed in, and shewed all the sight: Whose porch, that most magnificke did appeare, Stood open wyde to all men day and night; Yet warded well by one of mickle might, That sate thereby, with gyantlike resemblance, To keepe out guyle, and malice, and despight, That vnder shew oftimes[335] of fayned semblance, Are wont in Princes courts to worke great scath and hindrance. His name was Awe; by whom they passing in xxiii Went vp the hall, that was a large wyde roome, All full of people making troublous din, And wondrous noyse, as if that there were some, Which vnto them was dealing righteous doome. By whom they passing, through the thickest preasse, The marshall of the hall to them did come; His name hight Order, who commaunding peace, Them guyded through the throng, that did their clamors ceasse. They ceast their clamors vpon them to gaze; xxiv Whom seeing all in armour bright as day, Straunge there to see, it did them much amaze, And with vnwonted terror halfe affray. For neuer saw they there the like array, Ne euer was the name of warre there spoken, But ioyous peace and quietnesse alway, Dealing iust iudgements, that mote not be broken For any brybes, or threates of any to be wroken. There as they entred at the Scriene, they saw xxv Some one, whose tongue was for his trespasse vyle Nayld to a post, adiudged so by law: For that therewith he falsely did reuyle, And foule blaspheme that Queene for forged guyle, Both with bold speaches, which he blazed had, And with lewd poems, which he did compyle; For the bold title of a Poet bad He on himselfe had ta’en, and rayling rymes had sprad. Thus there he stood, whylest high ouer his head, xxvi There written was the purport of his sin, In cyphers strange, that few could rightly read, BON FONT[336]: but bon that once had written bin, Was raced out, and Mal was now put in. So now Malfont was plainely to be red; Eyther for th’euill, which he did therein, Or that he likened was to a welhed Of euill words, and wicked sclaunders[337] by him shed. They passing by, were guyded by degree xxvii Vnto the presence of that gratious Queene: Who sate on high, that she might all men see, And might of all men royally be seene, Vpon a throne of gold full bright and sheene, Adorned all with gemmes of endlesse price, As either might for wealth haue gotten bene, Or could be fram’d by workmans rare deuice; And all embost with Lyons and with Flourdelice. All ouer her a cloth of state was spred, xxviii Not of rich tissew, nor of cloth of gold, Nor of ought else, that may be richest red, But like a cloud, as likest may be told, That her brode spreading wings did wyde vnfold; Whose skirts were bordred with bright sunny beams, Glistring like gold, amongst the plights enrold, And here and there shooting forth siluer streames, Mongst which crept litle Angels through the glittering gleames. Seemed those litle Angels did vphold xxix The cloth of state, and on their purpled wings Did beare the pendants, through their nimblesse bold: Besides a thousand more of such, as sings Hymnes to high God, and carols heauenly things, Encompassed the throne, on which she sate: She Angel-like, the heyre of ancient kings And mightie Conquerors, in royall state, Whylest kings and kesars at her feet did them prostrate. Thus she did sit in souerayne Maiestie, xxx Holding a Scepter in her royall hand, The sacred pledge of peace and clemencie, With which high God had blest her happie land, Maugre so many foes, which did withstand. But at her feet her sword was likewise layde, Whose long rest rusted the bright steely brand; Yet when as foes enforst, or friends sought ayde, She could it sternely draw, that all the world dismayde. And round about, before her feet there sate xxxi A beuie of faire Virgins clad in white, That goodly seem’d t’adorne her royall state, All louely daughters of high Ioue, that hight[338] Litæ,[339] by him begot in loues delight, Vpon the righteous Themis: those they say Vpon Ioues iudgement seat wayt day and night, And when in wrath he threats the worlds decay, They doe his anger calme, and cruell vengeance stay. They also doe by his diuine permission xxxii Vpon the thrones of mortall Princes tend, And often treat for pardon and remission To suppliants, through frayltie which offend. Those did vpon Mercillaes throne attend: Iust Dice, wise Eunomie, myld Eirene, And them amongst, her glorie to commend, Sate goodly Temperance in garments clene, And sacred Reuerence, yborne of heauenly strene. Thus did she sit in royall rich estate, xxxiii Admyr’d of many, honoured of all, Whylest vnderneath her feete, there as she sate, An huge great Lyon lay, that mote appall An hardie courage, like captiued thrall, With a strong yron chaine and coller bound, That once he could not moue, nor quich at all; Yet did he murmure with rebellious[340] sound, And softly royne, when saluage choler gan redound. So sitting high in dreaded souerayntie, xxxiv Those two strange knights were to her presence brought; Who bowing low before her Maiestie, Did to her myld obeysance, as they ought, And meekest boone, that they imagine mought. To whom she eke inclyning her withall, As a faire stoupe of her high soaring thought, A chearefull countenance on them let fall, Yet tempred with some maiestie imperiall. As the bright sunne, what time his fierie teme xxxv Towards the westerne brim begins to draw, Gins to abate the brightnesse of his beme, And feruour of his flames somewhat adaw: So did this mightie Ladie, when she saw Those two strange knights such homage to her make, Bate somewhat of that Maiestie and awe, That whylome wont to doe so many quake, And with more myld aspect those two to entertake. Now at that instant, as occasion fell, xxxvi When these two stranger knights arriv’d in place, She was about affaires of common wele, Dealing of Iustice with indifferent grace, And hearing pleas of people meane and base. Mongst which as then, there was for to be heard The tryall of a great and weightie case, Which on both sides was then debating hard: But at the sight of these, those were a while debard. But after all her princely entertayne, xxxvii To th’hearing of that former cause in hand, Her selfe eftsoones she gan conuert againe; Which that those knights likewise mote vnderstand, And witnesse forth aright in forrain land, Taking them vp vnto her stately throne, Where they mote heare the matter throughly scand On either part, she placed th’one on th’one, The other on the other side, and neare them none. Then was there brought, as prisoner to the barre, xxxviii A Ladie of great countenance and place, But that she it with foule abuse did marre; Yet did appeare rare beautie in her face, But blotted with condition vile and base, That all her other honour did obscure, And titles of nobilitie deface: Yet in that wretched semblant, she did sure The peoples great compassion vnto her allure. Then vp arose a person of deepe reach, xxxix And rare in-sight, hard matters to reuele; That well could charme his tongue, and time his speach To all assayes; his name was called Zele: He gan that Ladie strongly to appele Of many haynous crymes, by her enured, And with sharpe reasons rang her such a pele, That those, whom she to pitie had allured, He now t’abhorre and loath her person had procured. First gan he tell, how this that seem’d so faire xl And royally arayd, Duessa hight That false Duessa, which had wrought great care, And mickle mischiefe vnto many a knight, By her beguyled, and confounded quight: But not for those she now in question came, Though also those mote question’d be aright, But for vyld treasons, and outrageous shame, Which she against the dred Mercilla oft did frame. For she whylome (as ye mote yet right well xli Remember) had her counsels false conspyred, With faithlesse Blandamour and Paridell, (Both two her paramours, both by her hyred, And both with hope of shadowes vaine inspyred,) And with them practiz’d, how for to depryue Mercilla of her crowne, by her aspyred, That she might it vnto her selfe deryue, And tryumph in their blood, whom she to death did dryue. But through high heauens grace, which fauour not xlii The wicked driftes of trayterous desynes, Gainst loiall Princes, all this cursed plot, Ere proofe it tooke, discouered was betymes, And th’actours won the meede meet for their crymes. Such be the meede of all, that by such mene Vnto the type of kingdomes title clymes. But false Duessa now vntitled Queene, Was brought to her sad doome, as here was to be seene. Strongly did Zele her haynous fact enforce, xliii And many other crimes of foule defame Against her brought, to banish all remorse, And aggrauate the horror of her blame. And with him to make part against her, came Many graue persons, that against her pled; First was a sage old Syre, that had to name The Kingdomes care, with a white siluer hed, That many high regards and reasons gainst her red. Then gan Authority her to appose[341] xliv With peremptorie powre, that made all mute; And then the law of Nations gainst her rose, And reasons brought, that no man could refute; Next gan Religion gainst her to impute High Gods beheast, and powre of holy lawes; Then gan the Peoples cry and Commons sute, Importune care of their owne publicke cause; And lastly Iustice charged her with breach of lawes. But then for her, on the contrarie part, xlv Rose many aduocates for her to plead: First there came Pittie, with full tender hart, And with her ioyn’d Regard of womanhead; And then came Daunger threatning hidden dread, And high alliance vnto forren powre; Then came Nobilitie[342] of birth, that bread Great ruth through her misfortunes tragicke stowre; And lastly Griefe[343] did plead, and many teares forth powre. With the neare touch whereof in tender hart xlvi The Briton Prince was sore empassionate, And woxe inclined much vnto her part, Through the sad terror of so dreadfull fate, And wretched ruine of so high estate, That for great ruth his courage gan relent. Which when as Zele perceiued to abate, He gan his earnest feruour to augment, And many fearefull obiects to them to present. He gan t’efforce the euidence anew, xlvii And new accusements to produce in place: He brought forth that old hag of hellish hew, The cursed Ate, brought her face to face, Who priuie was, and partie in the case: She, glad of spoyle and ruinous decay, Did her appeach, and to her more disgrace, The plot of all her practise did display, And all her traynes, and all her treasons forth did lay. Then brought he forth, with griesly grim aspect, xlviii Abhorred Murder, who with bloudie knyfe Yet dropping fresh in hand did her detect, And there with guiltie bloodshed charged ryfe: Then brought he forth Sedition, breeding stryfe In troublous wits, and mutinous vprore: Then brought he forth Incontinence of lyfe, Euen foule Adulterie her face before, And lewd Impietie, that her accused sore. All which when as the Prince had heard and seene, xlix His former fancies ruth he gan repent, And from her partie eftsoones was drawen cleene. But Artegall with constant firme intent, For zeale of Iustice was against her bent. So was she guiltie deemed of them all. Then Zele began to vrge her punishment, And to their Queene for iudgement loudly call, Vnto Mercilla myld for Iustice gainst the thrall. But she, whose Princely breast was touched nere l With piteous ruth of her so wretched plight, Though plaine she saw by all, that she did heare, That she of death was guiltie found by right, Yet would not let iust vengeance on her light; But rather let in stead thereof to fall Few perling drops from her faire lampes of light; The which she couering with her purple pall Would haue the passion hid, and vp arose withall.

Prince Arthur takes the enterprize for Belge[344] for to fight. Gerioneos Seneschall he slayes in Belges right.

Some Clarkes doe doubt in their deuicefull art, i Whether this heauenly thing, whereof I treat, To weeten Mercie,[345] be of Iustice part, Or drawne forth from her by diuine extreate. This well I wote, that sure she is as great, And meriteth to haue as high a place, Sith in th’Almighties euerlasting seat She first was bred, and borne of heauenly race; From thence pour’d down on men, by influence of grace. For if that Vertue be of so great might, ii Which from iust verdict will for nothing start, But to preserue inuiolated right, Oft spilles the principall, to saue the part; So much more then is that of powre and art, That seekes to saue the subiect of her skill, Yet neuer doth from doome of right depart: As it is greater prayse to saue, then spill, And better to reforme, then to cut off the ill. Who then can thee, Mercilla throughly prayse, iii That herein doest all earthly Princes pas? What heauenly Muse shall thy great honour rayse Vp to the skies, whence first deriu’d it was, And now on earth it selfe enlarged has, From th’vtmost brinke of the Armericke[346] shore, Vnto the margent of the Molucas? Those Nations farre thy iustice doe adore: But thine owne people do thy mercy prayse much more. Much more it praysed was of those two knights; iv The noble Prince, and righteous Artegall, When they had seene and heard her doome a rights Against Duessa, damned by them all; But by her tempred without griefe or gall, Till strong constraint did her thereto enforce. And yet euen then ruing her wilfull fall, With more then needfull naturall remorse, And yeelding the last honour to her wretched corse. During all which, those knights continu’d there, v Both doing and receiuing curtesies, Of that great Ladie, who with goodly chere Them entertayn’d, fit for their dignities, Approuing dayly to their noble eyes Royall examples of her mercies rare, And worthie paterns of her clemencies; Which till this day mongst many liuing are, Who them to their posterities doe still declare. Amongst the rest, which in that space befell, vi There came two Springals of full tender yeares, Farre thence from forrein land, where they did dwell, To seeke for succour of her and of her Peares[347], With humble prayers and intreatfull teares; Sent by their mother, who a widow was, Wrapt in great dolours and in deadly feares, By a strong Tyrant, who inuaded has Her land, and slaine her children ruefully alas. Her name was Belge[348] who in former age vii A Ladie of great worth and wealth had beene, And mother of a frutefull heritage, Euen seuenteene goodly sonnes; which who had seene In their first flowre, before this fatall teene Them ouertooke, and their faire blossomes blasted, More happie mother would her surely weene, Then famous Niobe, before she tasted Latonaes childrens wrath, that all her issue wasted. But this fell Tyrant, through his tortious powre, viii Had left her now but fiue of all that brood: For twelue of them he did by times deuoure, And to his Idols[349] sacrifice their blood, Whylest he of none was stopped, nor withstood. For soothly he was one of matchlesse might, Of horrible aspect, and dreadfull mood, And had three bodies in one wast empight, And th’armes and legs of three, to succour him in fight. And sooth they say, that he was borne and bred[350] ix Of Gyants race, the sonne of Geryon, He that whylome in Spaine so sore was dred[351], For his huge powre and great oppression, Which brought that land to his subiection, Through his three bodies powre, in one combynd; And eke all strangers in that region Arryuing, to his kyne for food assynd; The fayrest kyne aliue, but of the fiercest kynd. For they were all, they say, of purple hew, x Kept by a cowheard, hight Eurytion, A cruell carle, the which all strangers slew, Ne day nor night did sleepe, t’attend them on, But walkt about them euer and anone, With his two headed dogge, that Orthrus hight; Orthrus begotten by great Typhaon And foule Echidna, in the house of night; But Hercules them all did ouercome in fight. His sonne was this, Geryoneo hight, xi Who after that his monstrous father fell Vnder Alcides club, streight tooke his flight From that sad land, where he his syre did quell, And came to this, where Belge then did dwell, And flourish in all wealth and happinesse, Being then new made widow (as befell) After her Noble husbands late decesse[352]; Which gaue beginning to her woe and wretchednesse. Then this bold Tyrant, of her widowhed xii Taking aduantage, and her yet fresh woes, Himselfe and seruice to her offered, Her to defend against all forrein foes, That should their powre against her right oppose. Whereof she glad, now needing strong defence, Him entertayn’d, and did her champion chose: Which long he vsd with carefull diligence, The better to confirme her fearelesse confidence. By meanes whereof, she did at last commit xiii All to his hands, and gaue him soueraine powre To doe, what euer he thought good or fit. Which hauing got, he gan forth from that howre To stirre vp strife, and many a Tragicke stowre, Giuing her dearest children one by one Vnto a dreadfull Monster to deuoure, And setting vp an Idole of his owne, The image of his monstrous parent Geryone. So tyrannizing, and oppressing all, xiv The woefull widow had no meanes now left, But vnto gratious great Mercilla call For ayde, against that cruell Tyrants theft, Ere all her children he from her had reft. Therefore these two, her eldest sonnes she sent, To seeke for succour of this Ladies gieft: To whom their sute they humbly did present, In th’hearing of full many Knights and Ladies gent. Amongst the which then fortuned to bee xv The noble Briton Prince, with his braue Peare; Who when he none of all those knights did see Hastily bent, that enterprise to heare, Nor vndertake the same, for cowheard feare, He stepped forth with courage bold and great, Admyr’d of all the rest in presence there, And humbly gan that mightie Queene entreat, To graunt him that aduenture for his former feat. She gladly graunted it: then he straight way xvi Himselfe vnto his iourney gan prepare, And all his armours readie dight that day, That nought the morrow next mote stay his fare. The morrow next appear’d, with purple hayre Yet dropping fresh out of the Indian fount, And bringing light into the heauens fayre, When he was readie to his steede to mount,[353] Vnto his way, which now was all his care and count. Then taking humble leaue of that great Queene, xvii Who gaue him roiall giftes and riches rare, As tokens of her thankefull mind beseene, And leauing Artegall to his owne care,[354] Vpon his voyage forth he gan to fare, With those two gentle youthes, which him did guide, And all his way before him still prepare. Ne after him did Artegall[355] abide, But on his first aduenture forward forth did ride. It was not long, till that the Prince arriued xviii Within the land, where dwelt that Ladie sad, Whereof that Tyrant had her now depriued, And into moores and marshes banisht had, Out of the pleasant soyle, and citties glad, In which she wont to harbour happily: But now his cruelty so sore she drad, That to those fennes for fastnesse she did fly, And there her selfe did hyde from his hard tyranny. There he her found in sorrow and dismay, xix All solitarie without liuing wight; For all her other children, through affray, Had hid themselues, or taken further flight: And eke her selfe through sudden strange affright, When one in armes she saw, began to fly; But when her owne two sonnes she had in sight, She gan take hart, and looke vp ioyfully: For well she wist this knight came, succour to supply. And running vnto them with greedy ioyes, xx Fell straight about their neckes, as they did kneele, And bursting forth in teares; Ah my sweet boyes, (Sayd she) yet now I gin new life to feele, And feeble spirits, that gan faint and reele, Now rise againe, at this your ioyous sight. Alreadie seemes that fortunes headlong wheele Begins to turne, and sunne to shine more bright, Then it was wont, through comfort of this noble knight. Then turning vnto him; And you Sir knight xxi (Said she) that taken haue this toylesome paine For wretched woman, miserable wight, May you in heauen immortall guerdon gaine For so great trauell, as you doe sustaine: For other meede may hope for none of mee, To whom nought else, but bare life doth remaine, And that so wretched one, as ye do see Is liker lingring death, then loathed life to bee. Much was he moued with her piteous plight, xxii And low dismounting from his loftie steede, Gan to recomfort her all that he might, Seeking to driue away deepe rooted dreede, With hope of helpe in that her greatest neede. So thence he wished her with him to wend, Vnto some place, where they mote rest and feede, And she take comfort, which God now did send: Good hart in euils doth the euils much amend. Ay me (sayd she) and whether shall I goe? xxiii Are not all places full of forraine powres? My pallaces possessed of my foe, My cities sackt, and their sky-threating towres Raced, and made smooth fields now full of flowres? Onely these marishes, and myrie bogs, In which the fearefull ewftes do build their bowres, Yeeld me an hostry mongst the croking frogs, And harbour here in safety from those rauenous dogs. Nathlesse (said he) deare Ladie with me goe, xxiv Some place shall vs receiue, and harbour yield; If not, we will it force, maugre your foe, And purchase it to vs with speare and shield: And if all fayle, yet farewell open field: The earth to all her creatures lodging lends. With such his chearefull speaches he doth wield Her mind so well, that to his will she bends And bynding vp her locks and weeds, forth with him wends. They came vnto a Citie farre vp land, xxv The which whylome that Ladies owne had bene; But now by force extort out of her hand, By her strong foe, who had defaced cleene Her stately towres, and buildings sunny sheene; Shut vp her hauen, mard her marchants trade, Robbed her people, that full rich had beene, And in her necke a Castle huge had made, The which did her commaund, without needing perswade. That Castle was the strength of all that state, xxvi Vntill that state by strength was pulled downe, And that same citie, so now[356] ruinate, Had bene the keye of all that kingdomes crowne; Both goodly Castle, and both goodly Towne, Till that th’offended heauens list to lowre Vpon their blisse, and balefull fortune frowne. When those gainst states and kingdomes do coniure, Who then can thinke their hedlong ruine to recure. But he had brought it now in seruile bond, xxvii And made it beare the yoke of inquisition, Stryuing long time in vaine it to withstand; Yet glad at last to make most base submission, And life enioy for any composition. So now he hath new lawes and orders new Imposd on it, with many a hard condition, And forced it, the honour that is dew To God, to doe vnto his Idole most vntrew. To him he hath, before this Castle greene, xxviii Built a faire Chappell, and an Altar framed Of costly Iuory, full rich beseene, On which that cursed Idole farre proclamed, He hath set vp, and him his God hath named, Offring to him in sinfull sacrifice The flesh of men, to Gods owne likenesse framed, And powring forth their bloud in brutishe wize, That any yron eyes[357] to see it would agrize. And for more horror and more crueltie, xxix Vnder that cursed Idols altar stone[358] An hideous monster doth in darknesse lie, Whose dreadfull shape was neuer seene of none That liues on earth; but vnto those alone The which vnto him sacrificed bee. Those he deuoures, they say, both flesh and bone: What else they haue, is all the Tyrants fee; So that no whit of them remayning one may see. There eke he placed a strong garrisone, xxx And set a Seneschall of dreaded might, That by his powre oppressed euery one, And vanquished all ventrous knights in fight; To whom he wont shew all the shame he might, After that them in battell he had wonne. To which when now they gan approch in sight, The Ladie counseld him the place to shonne, Whereas so many knights had fouly bene fordonne. Her fearefull speaches nought he did regard, xxxi But ryding streight vnder the Castle wall, Called aloud vnto the watchfull ward, Which there did wayte, willing them forth to call Into the field their Tyrants Seneschall. To whom when tydings thereof came, he streight Cals for his armes, and arming him withall, Eftsoones forth pricked proudly in his might, And gan with courage fierce addresse him to the fight. They both encounter in the middle plaine, xxxii And their sharpe speares doe both together smite Amid their shields, with so huge might and maine, That seem’d their soules they wold[359] haue ryuen quight Out of their breasts, with furious despight. Yet could the Seneschals no entrance find Into the Princes shield, where it empight; So pure the mettall was, and well refynd, But shiuered all about, and scattered in the wynd. Not so the Princes, but with restlesse force, xxxiii Into his shield it readie passage found, Both through his haberieon, and eke his corse: Which tombling downe vpon the senselesse ground, Gaue leaue vnto his ghost from thraldome bound, To wander in the griesly shades of night. There did the Prince him leaue in deadly swound, And thence vnto the castle marched right, To see if entrance there as yet obtaine he might. But as he nigher drew, three knights he spyde, xxxiv All arm’d to point, issuing forth a pace, Which towards him with all their powre did ryde, And meeting him right in the middle race, Did all their speares attonce on him enchace. As three great Culuerings for battrie bent, And leueld all against one certaine place, Doe all attonce their thunders rage forth rent, That makes the wals to stagger with astonishment. So all attonce they on the Prince did thonder; xxxv Who from his saddle swarued nought asyde, Ne to their force gaue way, that was great wonder, But like a bulwarke, firmely did abyde, Rebutting him, which in the midst did ryde, With so huge rigour, that his mortall speare Past through his shield, and pierst through either syde, That downe he fell vppon his mother deare, And powred forth his wretched life in deadly dreare. Whom when his other fellowes saw, they fled xxxvi As fast as feete could carry them away; And after them the Prince as swiftly sped, To be aueng’d of their vnknightly play. There whilest they entring, th’one did th’other stay, The hindmost in the gate he ouerhent, And as he pressed in, him there did slay: His carkasse tumbling on the threshold, sent His groning soule vnto her place of punishment. The other which was entred, laboured fast xxxvii To sperre the gate; but that same lumpe of clay, Whose grudging ghost was thereout fled and past,[360] Right in the middest of the threshold lay, That it the Posterne did from closing stay: The whiles the Prince hard[361] preased in betweene, And entraunce wonne. Streight th’other fled away, And ran into the Hall, where he did weene Him selfe to saue: but he there slew him at the skreene. Then all the rest which in that Castle were, xxxviii Seeing that sad ensample them before, Durst not abide, but fled away for feare, And them conuayd out at a Posterne dore. Long sought the Prince, but when he found no more T’oppose against his powre, he forth issued Vnto that Lady, where he her had lore, And her gan cheare, with what she there had vewed, And what she had not seene, within vnto her shewed. Who with right humble thankes him goodly greeting, xxxix For so great prowesse, as he there had proued, Much greater then was euer in her weeting, With great admiraunce inwardly was moued, And honourd him, with all that her behoued. Thenceforth into that Castle he her led, With her two sonnes, right deare of her beloued, Where all that night them selues they cherished, And from her balefull minde all care he banished.

Prince Arthure ouercomes the great Gerioneo in fight: Doth slay the Monster, and restore Belge vnto her right.

It often fals in course of common life, i That right long time is ouerborne of wrong, Through auarice, or powre, or guile, or strife, That weakens her, and makes her party strong: But Iustice, though her dome she doe prolong, Yet at the last she will her owne cause right. As by sad Belge seemes, whose wrongs though long She suffred, yet at length she did requight, And sent redresse thereof by this braue Briton Knight. Whereof when newes was to that Tyrant brought, ii How that the Lady Belge now had found A Champion, that had with his Champion fought, And laid his Seneschall low on the ground, And eke him selfe did threaten to confound, He gan to burne in rage, and friese in feare, Doubting sad end of principle vnsound: Yet sith he heard but one, that did appeare, He did him selfe encourage, and take better cheare. Nathelesse him selfe he armed all in hast, iii And forth he far’d with all his many bad, Ne stayed step, till that he came at last Vnto the Castle, which they conquerd had. There with huge terrour, to be more ydrad, He sternely marcht before the Castle gate, And with bold vaunts, and ydle threatning bad Deliuer him his owne, ere yet too late, To which they had no right, nor any wrongfull state. The Prince staid not his aunswere to deuize, iv But opening streight the Sparre, forth to him came, Full nobly mounted in right warlike wize; And asked him, if that he were the same, Who all that wrong vnto that wofull Dame So long had done, and from her natiue land Exiled her, that all the world spake shame. He boldly aunswerd him, he there did stand That would his doings iustifie with his owne hand. With that so furiously at him he flew, v As if he would haue ouerrun him streight, And with his huge great yron axe gan hew So hideously vppon his armour bright, As he to peeces would haue chopt it quight: That the bold Prince was forced foote to giue To his first rage, and yeeld to his despight; The whilest at him so dreadfully he driue, That seem’d a marble rocke asunder could haue riue. Thereto a great aduauntage eke he has vi Through his three double hands thrise multiplyde, Besides the double strength, which in them was: For stil when fit occasion did betyde, He could his weapon shift from side to syde, From hand to hand, and with such nimblesse sly Could wield about, that ere it were espide, The wicked stroke did wound his enemy, Behinde, beside, before, as he it list apply. Which vncouth vse when as the Prince perceiued, vii He gan to watch the wielding of his hand, Least by such slight he were vnwares deceiued; And euer ere he saw the stroke to land, He would it meete, and warily withstand. One time, when he his weapon faynd to shift, As he was wont, and chang’d from hand to hand, He met him with a counterstroke so swift, That quite smit off his arme, as he it vp did lift. Therewith, all fraught with fury and disdaine, viii He brayd aloud for very fell despight, And sodainely t’auenge him selfe againe, Gan into one assemble all the might Of all his hands, and heaued them on hight, Thinking to pay him with that one for all: But the sad steele seizd not, where it was hight, Vppon the childe, but somewhat short did fall, And lighting on his horses head, him quite did mall. Downe streight to ground fell his astonisht steed, ix And eke to th’earth his burden with him bare: But he him selfe full lightly from him freed, And gan him selfe to fight on foote prepare. Whereof when as the Gyant was aware, He wox right blyth, as he had got thereby, And laught so loud, that all his teeth wide bare One might haue seene enraung’d disorderly, Like to a rancke of piles, that pitched are awry. Eftsoones againe his axe he raught on hie, x Ere he were throughly buckled to his geare, And can let driue at him so dreadfullie, That had he chaunced not his shield to reare, Ere that huge stroke arriued on him neare, He had him surely clouen quite in twaine. But th’Adamantine shield, which he did beare, So well was tempred, that for all his maine, It would no passage yeeld vnto his purpose vaine. Yet was the stroke so forcibly applide, xi That made him stagger with vncertaine sway, As if he would haue tottered to one side. Wherewith full wroth, he fiercely gan assay, That curt’sie with like kindnesse to repay; And smote at him with so importune might, That two more of his armes did fall away, Like fruitlesse braunches, which the hatchets slight Hath pruned from the natiue tree, and cropped quight. With that all mad and furious he grew, xii Like a fell mastiffe through enraging heat, And curst, and band, and blasphemies forth threw, Against his Gods, and fire to them did threat, And hell vnto him selfe with horrour great. Thenceforth he car’d no more, which way he strooke, Nor where it light, but gan to chaufe and sweat, And gnasht his teeth, and his head at him shooke, And sternely him beheld with grim and ghastly looke. Nought fear’d the childe his lookes, ne yet his threats, xiii But onely wexed now the more aware, To saue him selfe from those his furious heats, And watch aduauntage, how to worke his care: The which good Fortune to him offred faire. For as he in his rage him ouerstrooke, He ere he could his weapon backe repaire, His side all bare and naked ouertooke, And with his mortal steel quite throgh[362] the body strooke. Through all three bodies he him strooke attonce; xiv That all the three attonce fell on the plaine: Else should he thrise haue needed, for the nonce Them to haue stricken, and thrise to haue slaine. So now all three one sencelesse lumpe remaine, Enwallow’d in his owne blacke bloudy gore, And byting th’earth for very deaths disdaine; Who with a cloud of night him couering, bore Downe to the house of dole,[363] his daies there to deplore. Which when the Lady from the Castle saw, xv Where she with her two sonnes did looking stand, She towards him in hast her selfe did draw, To greet him the good fortune of his hand: And all the people both of towne and land, Which there stood gazing from the Citties wall Vppon these warriours, greedy t’vnderstand, To whether should the victory befall, Now when they saw it falne, they eke him greeted all. But Belge with her sonnes prostrated low xvi Before his feete, in all that peoples sight[364], Mongst ioyes mixing some tears, mongst wele, some wo Him thus bespake; O most redoubted Knight, The which hast me, of all most wretched wight, That earst was dead, restor’d to life againe, And these weake impes replanted by thy might; What guerdon can I giue thee for thy paine, But euen that which thou sauedst, thine still to remaine? He tooke her vp forby the lilly hand, xvii And her recomforted the best he might, Saying; Deare Lady, deedes ought not be scand By th’authors manhood, nor the doers might, But by their trueth and by the causes right: That same is it, which fought for you this day. What other meed then need me to requight, But that which yeeldeth vertues meed alway? That is the vertue selfe, which her reward doth pay. She humbly thankt him for that wondrous grace, xviii And further sayd; Ah Sir, but mote ye please, Sith ye thus farre haue tendred my poore case, As from my chiefest foe me to release, That your victorious arme will not yet cease, Till ye haue rooted all the relickes out Of that vilde[365] race, and stablished my peace. What is there else (sayd he) left of their rout? Declare it boldly Dame, and doe not stand in dout. Then wote you, Sir, that in this Church hereby, xix There stands an Idole of great note and name, The which this Gyant reared first on hie, And of his owne vaine fancies thought did frame: To whom for endlesse horrour of his shame, He offred vp for daily sacrifize My children and my people, burnt in flame; With all the tortures, that he could deuize, The more t’aggrate his God with such his blouddy guize. And vnderneath this Idoll there doth lie xx An hideous monster, that doth it defend, And feedes on all the carkasses, that die In sacrifize vnto that cursed feend: Whose vgly shape none euer saw, nor kend, That euer scap’d: for of a man they say It has the voice, that speaches forth doth send, Euen blasphemous words, which she doth bray Out of her poysnous entrails, fraught with dire decay. Which when the Prince heard tell, his heart gan earne[366] xxi For great desire, that Monster to assay, And prayd the place of her abode to learne. Which being shew’d, he gan him selfe streight way Thereto addresse, and his bright shield display. So to the Church he came, where it was told, The Monster vnderneath the Altar lay; There he that Idoll saw of massy gold Most richly made, but there no Monster did behold. Vpon the Image with his naked blade xxii Three times, as in defiance, there he strooke; And the third time out of an hidden shade, There forth issewd, from vnder th’Altars smooke, A dreadfull feend, with fowle deformed looke, That stretcht it selfe, as it had long lyen still; And her long taile and fethers strongly shooke, That all the Temple did with terrour fill; Yet him nought terrifide, that feared nothing ill. An huge great Beast it was, when it in length xxiii Was stretched forth, that nigh fild all the place, And seem’d to be of infinite great strength; Horrible, hideous, and of hellish race, Borne of the brooding of Echidna base, Or other like infernall furies kinde: For of a Mayd she had the outward face, To hide the horrour, which did lurke behinde, The better to beguile, whom she so fond did finde. Thereto the body of a dog she had, xxiv Full of fell rauin and fierce greedinesse; A Lions clawes, with powre and rigour clad, To rend and teare, what so she can oppresse; A Dragons taile, whose sting without redresse Full deadly wounds, where so it is empight; And[367] Eagles wings, for scope and speedinesse, That nothing may escape her reaching might, Whereto she euer list to make her hardy flight. Much like in foulnesse and deformity xxv Vnto that Monster, whom the Theban Knight, The father of that fatall progeny, Made kill her selfe for very hearts despight, That he had red her Riddle, which no wight Could euer loose, but suffred deadly doole. So also did this Monster vse like slight To many a one, which came vnto her schoole, Whom she did put to death, deceiued like a foole. She comming forth, when as she first beheld xxvi The armed Prince, with shield so blazing bright, Her ready to assaile, was greatly queld, And much dismayd with that dismayfull sight, That backe she would haue turnd for great affright. But he gan her with courage fierce assay, 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, xxvii 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, xxviii 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 xxix 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[368] 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, xxx 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, xxxi 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, xxxii 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, xxxiii 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, xxxiv 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 bales, 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[369] did a while remaine, xxxv 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, xxxvi 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 xxxvii 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; xxxviii 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, xxxix 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[370] 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, xl 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[371], She death shall by[372]. 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, xli Too much am I to blame[373] 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[374] 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, xlii Hath he her lent, a Champion to prouide[375]? 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) xliii 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, xliv They saw a Knight in daungerous[376] 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, xlv 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, xlvi 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, xlvii 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, xlviii 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[377] 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, xlix 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, l 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[378] troupe of villains sent, li 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 lii 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 liii 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, liv 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, lv 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[379] field; Dye rather, then doe ought, that mote dishonour yield. Not so; (quoth he) for yet when time doth serue, lvi 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, lvii (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[380] his powre and might. Who flocking round about them, as a swarme lviii Of flyes vpon a birchen bough doth cluster, Did them assault with terrible 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, lix 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, lx Whom now her keepers had[381] 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, lxi 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[382]. Whom when those knights so froward[383] and forlore Beheld, they her rebuked and vpbrayded sore. Sayd Artegall; What[384] foule disgrace is this, lxii 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? Why then will ye, fond Dame, attempted bee lxiii Vnto a strangers loue so lightly placed, For guiftes of gold, or any worldly glee, To leaue the loue, that ye before embraced, And let your fame with falshood be defaced[385]? Fie on the pelfe, for which good name is sold, And honour with indignitie debased: Dearer is loue then life, and fame then gold; But dearer then them both, your faith once plighted hold[386]. Much was the Ladie in her gentle mind lxiv Abasht at his rebuke, that bit her neare, Ne ought to answere thereunto did find; But hanging downe her head with heauie cheare, Stood long amaz’d, as she amated weare. Which Burbon seeing, her againe assayd, And clasping twixt his armes, her vp did reare Vpon his steede, whiles she no whit gainesayd, So bore her quite away, nor well nor ill apayd. Nathlesse the yron man did still pursew lxv That raskall many with vnpittied spoyle, Ne ceassed not, till all their scattred crew Into the sea he droue quite from that soyle, The which they troubled had with great turmoyle. But Artegall seeing his cruell deed, Commaunded him from slaughter to recoyle, And to his voyage gan againe proceed: For that the terme approching fast, required speed.

Artegall doth Sir Burbon aide, And blames for changing shield: He with the great Grantorto fights, And slaieth him in field.

O Sacred hunger of ambitious mindes, i And impotent desire of men to raine, Whom neither dread of God, that deuils bindes, Nor lawes of men, that common weales containe, Nor bands of nature, that wilde beastes restraine, Can keepe from outrage, and from doing wrong, Where they may hope a kingdome to obtaine. No faith so firme, no trust can be so strong, No loue so lasting then, that may enduren[387] long. Witnesse may Burbon be, whom all the bands, ii Which may a Knight assure, had surely bound, Vntill the loue of Lordship and of lands Made him become most faithlesse and vnsound: And witnesse be Gerioneo found, Who for like cause faire Belge did oppresse, And right and wrong most cruelly confound: And so be now Grantorto, who no lesse Then all the rest burst out to all outragiousnesse. Gainst whom Sir Artegall, long hauing since iii Taken in hand th’exploit, being theretoo Appointed by that mightie Faerie Prince, Great Gloriane, that Tyrant to fordoo, Through other great aduentures hethertoo Had it forslackt. But now time drawing ny, To him assynd, her high beheast to doo, To the sea shore he gan his way apply, To weete if shipping readie he mote there descry. Tho when they came to the sea coast, they found iv A ship all readie (as good fortune fell) To put to sea, with whom they did compound, To passe them ouer, where them list to tell: The winde and weather serued them so well, That in one day they with the coast did fall; Whereas they readie found them to repell, Great hostes of men in order martiall, Which them forbad to land, and footing did forstall. But nathemore would they from land refraine, v But when as nigh vnto the shore they drew, That foot of man might sound the bottome plaine, Talus into the sea did forth issew, Though darts from shore and stones they at him threw; And wading through the waues with stedfast sway, Maugre the might of all those troupes in vew, Did win the shore, whence he them chast away, And made to fly, like doues, whom the Eagle[388] doth affray. The whyles Sir Artegall, with that old knight vi Did forth descend, there being none them neare, And forward marched to a towne in sight. By this came tydings to the Tyrants eare, By those, which earst did fly away for feare Of their arriuall: wherewith troubled sore, He all his forces streight to him did reare, And forth issuing with his scouts afore, Meant them to haue incountred, ere they left the shore. But ere he marched farre, he with them met, vii And fiercely charged them with all his force; But Talus sternely did vpon them set, And brusht, and battred them without remorse, That on the ground he left full many a corse; Ne any able was him to withstand, But he them ouerthrew both man and horse, That they lay scattred ouer all the land, As thicke as doth the seede after the sowers hand. Till Artegall him seeing so to rage, viii Willd him to stay, and signe of truce did make: To which all harkning, did a while asswage Their forces furie, and their terror slake; Till he an Herauld cald, and to him spake, Willing him wend vnto the Tyrant streight, And tell him that not for such slaughters sake He thether came, but for to trie the right Of fayre Irenaes cause with him in single fight. And willed him for to reclayme with speed ix His scattred people, ere they all were slaine, And time and place conuenient to areed, In which they two the combat might darraine. Which message when Grantorto heard, full fayne And glad he was the slaughter so to stay, And pointed for the combat twixt them twayne The morrow next, ne gaue him longer day. So sounded the retraite, and drew his folke away. That night Sir Artegall did cause his tent x There to be pitched on the open plaine; For he had giuen streight commaundement, That none should dare him once to entertaine: Which none durst breake, though many would right faine For fayre Irena, whom they loued deare. But yet old Sergis did so well him paine, That from close friends, that dar’d not to appeare, He all things did puruay, which for them needfull weare. The morrow next, that was the dismall day, xi Appointed for Irenas death before, So soone as it did to the world display His chearefull face, and light to men restore, The heauy Mayd, to whom none tydings bore Of Artegalls[389] arryuall, her to free, Lookt vp with eyes full sad and hart full sore; Weening her lifes last howre then neare to bee, Sith no redemption nigh she did nor heare nor see. Then vp she rose, and on her selfe did dight xii Most squalid garments, fit for such a day, And with dull countenance, and with doleful spright, She forth was brought in sorrowfull dismay, For to receiue the doome of her decay. But comming to the place, and finding there Sir Artegall, in battailous array Wayting his foe, it did her dead hart cheare, And new life to her lent, in midst of deadly feare. Like as a tender Rose in open plaine, xiii That with vntimely drought nigh withered was, And hung the head, soone as few drops of raine Thereon distill, and deaw her daintie face, Gins to looke vp, and with fresh wonted grace Dispreds the glorie of her leaues gay; Such was Irenas countenance, such her case, When Artegall she saw in that array, There wayting for the Tyrant, till it was farre day. Who came at length, with proud presumpteous[390] gate, xiv Into the field, as if he fearelesse were, All armed in a cote of yron plate, Of great defence to ward the deadly feare, And on his head a steele cap he did weare Of colour rustie browne, but sure and strong; And in his hand an huge Polaxe did beare, Whose steale[391] was yron studded, but not long, With which he wont to fight, to iustifie his wrong. Of stature huge and hideous he was, xv Like to a Giant for his monstrous hight, And did in strength most sorts of men surpas, Ne euer any found his match in might; Thereto he had great skill in single fight: His face was vgly, and his countenance sterne, That could haue frayd one with the very sight, And gaped like a gulfe, when he did gerne, That whether man or monster one could scarse discerne. Soone as he did within the listes appeare, xvi With dreadfull looke he Artegall beheld, As if he would haue daunted him with feare, And grinning griesly, did against him weld His deadly weapon, which in hand he held. But th’Elfin swayne, that oft had seene like sight, Was with his ghastly count’nance nothing queld, But gan him streight to buckle to the fight, And cast his shield about, to be in readie plight. The trompets sound, and they together goe, xvii With dreadfull terror, and with fell intent; And their huge strokes full daungerously bestow, To doe most dammage, where as most they ment. But with such[392] force and furie violent, The tyrant thundred his thicke blowes so fast, That through the yron walles their way they rent, And euen to the vitall parts they past, Ne ought could them endure, but all they cleft or brast. Which cruell outrage when as Artegall xviii Did well auize, thenceforth with warie heed He shund his strokes, where euer they did fall, And way did giue vnto their gracelesse speed: As when a skilfull Marriner doth reed A storme approching, that doth perill threat, He will not bide the daunger of such dread. But strikes his sayles, and vereth his mainsheat, And lends vnto it leaue the emptie ayre to beat. So did the Faerie knight himselfe abeare, xix And stouped oft his head from shame to shield; No shame to stoupe, ones head more high to reare, And much to gaine, a litle for to yield; So stoutest knights doen oftentimes in field. But still the tyrant sternely at him layd, And did his yron axe so nimbly wield, That many wounds into his flesh it made, And with his burdenous blowes him sore did ouerlade. Yet when as fit aduantage he did spy, xx The whiles the cursed felon high did reare His cruell hand, to smite him mortally, Vnder his stroke he to him stepping neare, Right in the flanke him strooke with deadly dreare, That the gore bloud thence gushing grieuously, Did vnderneath him like a pond appeare, And all his armour did with purple dye; Thereat he brayed loud, and yelled dreadfully. Yet the huge stroke, which he before intended, xxi Kept on his course, as he did it direct, And with such monstrous poise adowne descended, That seemed nought could him from death protect: But he it well did ward with wise respect, And twixt him and the blow his shield did cast, Which thereon seizing, tooke no great effect, But byting deepe therein did sticke so fast, That by no meanes it backe againe he forth could wrast. Long while he tug’d and stroue, to get it out, xxii And all his powre applyed thereunto, That he therewith the knight drew all about: Nathlesse, for all that euer he could doe, His axe he could not from his shield vndoe. Which Artegall perceiuing, strooke no more, But loosing soone his shield, did it forgoe, And whiles he combred was therewith so sore, He gan at him let driue more fiercely then afore. So well he him pursew’d, that at the last, xxiii He stroke[393] him with Chrysaor on the hed, That with the souse thereof full sore aghast, He staggered to and fro in doubtfull sted. Againe whiles he him saw so ill bested, He did him smite with all his might and maine, That falling on his mother earth he fed: Whom when he saw prostrated on the plaine, He lightly reft his head, to ease him of his paine. Which when the people round about him saw, xxiv They shouted all for ioy of his successe, Glad to be quit from that proud Tyrants awe, Which with strong powre did them long time oppresse; And running all with greedie ioyfulnesse To faire Irena, at her feet did fall, And her adored with due humblenesse, As their true Liege and Princesse naturall; And eke her champions glorie sounded ouer all. Who streight her leading with meete maiestie xxv Vnto the pallace, where their kings did rayne, Did her therein establish peaceablie, And to her kingdomes seat restore agayne; And all such persons, as did late maintayne That Tyrants part, with close or open ayde, He sorely punished with heauie payne; That in short space, whiles there with her he stayd, Not one was left, that durst her once haue disobayd. During which time, that he did there remaine, xxvi His studie was true Iustice how to deale, And day and night employ’d his busie paine How to reforme that ragged common-weale: And that same yron man which could reueale All hidden crimes, through all that realme he sent, To search out those, that vsd to rob and steale, Or did rebell gainst lawfull gouernment; On whom he did inflict most grieuous punishment. But ere he could reforme it thoroughly, xxvii He through occasion called was away, To Faerie Court, that of necessity His course of Iustice he was forst to stay, And Talus to reuoke from the right way, In which he was that Realme for to redresse. But enuies cloud still dimmeth vertues ray. So hauing freed Irena from distresse, He tooke his leaue of her, there left in heauinesse. Tho as he backe returned from that land, xxviii And there arriu’d againe, whence forth he set, He had not passed farre vpon the strand, When as two old ill fauour’d Hags he met, By the way side being together set, Two griesly creatures; and, to that their faces Most foule and filthie were, their garments yet Being all rag’d and tatter’d, their disgraces Did much the more augment, and made most vgly cases. The one of them, that elder did appeare, xxix With her dull eyes did seeme to looke askew, That her mis-shape much helpt; and her foule heare Hung loose and loathsomely: Thereto her hew Was wan and leane, that all her teeth arew, And all her bones might through her cheekes be red; Her lips were like raw lether, pale and blew, And as she spake, therewith she slauered; Yet spake she seldom, but thought more, the lesse she sed. Her hands were foule and durtie, neuer washt xxx In all her life, with long nayles ouer raught, Like puttocks clawes: with th’one of which she scracht Her cursed head, although it itched naught; The other held a snake with venime fraught, On which she fed, and gnawed hungrily[394], As if that long she had not eaten ought; That round about her iawes one might descry The bloudie gore and poyson dropping lothsomely. Her name was Enuie, knowen well thereby; xxxi Whose nature is to grieue, and grudge at all, That euer she sees doen prays-worthily, Whose sight to her is greatest crosse, may fall, And vexeth so, that makes her eat her gall. For when she wanteth other thing to eat, She feedes on her owne maw vnnaturall, And of her owne foule entrayles makes her meat; Meat fit for such a monsters monsterous dyeat. And if she hapt of any good to heare, xxxii That had to any happily betid, Then would she inly fret, and grieue, and teare Her flesh for felnesse, which she inward hid: But if she heard of ill, that any did, Or harme, that any had, then would she make Great cheare, like one vnto a banquet bid; And in anothers losse great pleasure take, As she had got thereby, and gayned a great stake. The other nothing better was, then shee; xxxiii Agreeing in bad will and cancred kynd, But in bad maner they did disagree: For what so Enuie good or bad did fynd, She did conceale, and murder her owne mynd; But this, what euer euill she conceiued, Did spred abroad, and throw in th’open wynd. Yet this in all her words might be perceiued, That all she sought, was mens good name to haue bereaued. For what soeuer good by any sayd, xxxiv Or doen she heard, she would streightwayes inuent, How to depraue, or slaunderously[395] vpbrayd, Or to misconstrue of a mans intent, And turne to ill the thing, that well was ment. Therefore she vsed often to resort, To common haunts, and companies frequent, To hearke what any one did good report, To blot the same with blame, or wrest in wicked sort. And if that any ill she heard of any, xxxv She would it eeke, and make much worse by telling, And take great ioy to publish it to many, That euery matter worse was for her melling. Her name was hight Detraction, and her dwelling Was neare to Enuie, euen her neighbour next; A wicked hag, and Enuy selfe excelling In mischiefe: for her selfe she onely vext; But this same both her selfe, and others eke perplext. Her face was vgly, and her mouth distort, xxxvi Foming with poyson round about her gils, In which her cursed tongue full sharpe and short Appear’d like Aspis sting, that closely kils, Or cruelly does wound, whom so she wils: A distaffe in her other hand she had, Vpon the which she litle spinnes, but spils, And faynes to weaue false tales and leasings bad, To throw amongst the good, which others had disprad. These two now had themselues combynd in one, xxxvii And linckt together gainst Sir Artegall, For whom they wayted as his mortall fone, How they might make him into mischiefe fall, For freeing from their snares Irena thrall, Besides vnto themselues they gotten had A monster, which the Blatant beast men call, A dreadfull feend of gods and men ydrad, Whom they by slights allur’d, and to their purpose lad. Such were these Hags, and so vnhandsome drest: xxxviii Who when they nigh approching, had espyde Sir Artegall return’d from his late quest, They both arose, and at him loudly cryde, As it had bene two shepheards curres, had scryde A rauenous Wolfe amongst the scattered flockes. And Enuie first, as she that first him eyde, Towardes him runs, and with rude flaring lockes About her eares, does beat her brest, and forhead knockes. Then from her mouth the gobbet she does take, xxxix The which whyleare she was so greedily Deuouring, euen that halfe-gnawen snake, And at him throwes it most despightfully. The cursed Serpent, though she hungrily Earst chawd thereon, yet was not all so dead, But that some life remayned secretly, And as he past afore withouten dread, Bit him behind, that long the marke was to be read. Then th’other comming neare, gan him reuile, xl And fouly rayle, with all she could inuent; Saying, that he had with vnmanly guile, And foule abusion both his honour blent, And that bright sword, the sword of Iustice lent,[396] Had stayned with reprochfull crueltie, In guiltlesse blood of many an innocent: As for Grandtorto, him with treacherie And traynes hauing surpriz’d, he fouly did to die. Thereto the Blatant beast by them set on xli At him began aloud to barke and bay, With bitter rage and fell contention, That all the woods and rockes nigh to that way, Began to quake and tremble with dismay; And all the aire rebellowed againe. So dreadfully his hundred tongues did bray, And euermore those hags them selues did paine, To sharpen him, and their owne cursed tongs did straine. And still among most bitter wordes they spake, xlii Most shamefull, most vnrighteous, most vntrew, That they the mildest man aliue would make Forget his patience, and yeeld vengeaunce dew To her, that so false sclaunders[397] at him threw. And more to make them pierce and wound more deepe, She with the sting, which in her vile tongue grew, Did sharpen them, and in fresh poyson steepe: Yet he past on, and seem’d of them to take no keepe. But Talus hearing her so lewdly raile, xliii And speake so ill of him, that well deserued, Would her haue chastiz’d with his yron flaile, If her Sir Artegall had not preserued, And him forbidden, who his heast obserued. So much the more at him still did she scold, And stones did cast, yet he for nought would swerue From his right course, but still the way did hold To Faery Court, where what him fell shall else be told.