|
| The Redcrosse Knight is captive made, |
| By gyaunt proud opprest: |
| Prince Arthure meets with Una great- |
| ly with those newes distrest. |
I WHAT man so wise, what earthly witt so ware, | |
As to discry the crafty cunning traine, | |
By which Deceipt doth maske in visour faire, | |
And cast her coulours died deepe in graine, | |
To seeme like Truth, whose shape she well can faine, | 5 |
And fitting gestures to her purpose frame, | |
The guiltlesse man with guile to entertaine? | |
Great maistresse of her art was that false dame, | |
The false Duessa, cloked with Fidessaes name. | |
|
II Who when, returning from the drery Night, | 10 |
She fownd not in that perilous Hous of Pryde, | |
Where she had left, the noble Redcross Knight, | |
Her hoped pray, she would no lenger byde, | |
But forth she went to seeke him far and wide. | |
Ere long she fownd, whereas he wearie sate | 15 |
To rest him selfe, foreby a fountaine syde, | |
Disarmed all of yron-coted plate, | |
And by his side his steed the grassy forage ate. | |
|
III Hee feedes upon the cooling shade, and bayes | |
His sweatie forehead in the breathing wynd, | 20 |
Which through the trembling leaves full gently playes, | |
Wherein the chearefull birds of sundry kynd | |
Doe chaunt sweet musick, to delight his mynd. | |
The witch approching gan him fayrely greet, | |
And with reproch of carelesnes unkynd | 25 |
Upbrayd, for leaving her in place unmeet, | |
With fowle words tempring faire, soure gall with hony sweet. | |
|
IV Unkindnesse past, they gan of solace treat, | |
And bathe in pleasaunce of the joyous shade, | |
Which shielded them against the boyling heat, | 30 |
And, with greene boughes decking a gloomy glade, | |
About the fountaine like a girlond made; | |
Whose bubbling wave did ever freshly well, | |
Ne ever would through fervent sommer fade: | |
The sacred nymph, which therein wont to dwell, | 35 |
Was out of Dianes favor, as it then befell. | |
|
V The cause was this: one day when Phbe fayre | |
With all her band was following the chace, | |
This nymph, quite tyrd with heat of scorching ayre, | |
Satt downe to rest in middest of the race: | 40 |
The goddesse wroth gan fowly her disgrace, | |
And badd the waters, which from her did flow, | |
Be such as she her selfe was then in place. | |
Thenceforth her waters wexed dull and slow, | |
And all that drunke thereof did faint and feeble grow. | 45 |
|
VI Hereof this gentle knight unweeting was, | |
And lying downe upon the sandie graile, | |
Dronke of the streame, as cleare as christall glas: | |
Eftsoones his manly forces gan to fayle, | |
And mightie strong was turnd to feeble frayle: | 50 |
His chaunged powres at first them selves not felt, | |
Till crudled cold his corage gan assayle, | |
And chearefull blood in fayntnes chill did melt, | |
Which, like a fever fit, through all his body swelt. | |
|
VII Yet goodly court he made still to his dame, | 55 |
Pourd out in loosnesse on the grassy grownd, | |
Both carelesse of his health, and of his fame: | |
Till at the last he heard a dreadfull sownd, | |
Which through the wood loud bellowing did rebownd, | |
That all the earth for terror seemd to shake, | 60 |
And trees did tremble. Th Elfe, therewith astownd, | |
Upstarted lightly from his looser make, | |
And his unready weapons gan in hand to take. | |
|
VIII But ere he could his armour on him dight, | |
Or gett his shield, his monstrous enimy | 65 |
With sturdie steps came stalking in his sight, | |
An hideous geaunt, horrible and hye, | |
That with his tallnesse seemd to threat the skye; | |
The ground eke groned under him for dreed: | |
His living like saw never living eye, | 70 |
Ne durst behold: his stature did exceed | |
The hight of three the tallest sonnes of mortall seed. | |
|
IX The greatest Earth his uncouth mother was, | |
And blustring Æolus his boasted syre; | |
Who with his breath, which through the world doth pas, | 75 |
Her hollow womb did secretly inspyre, | |
And fild her hidden caves with stormie yre, | |
That she conceivd; and trebling the dew time, | |
In which the wombes of wemen doe expyre, | |
Brought forth this monstrous masse of earthly slyme, | 80 |
Puft up with emptie wynd, and fild with sinfull cryme. | |
|
X So growen great, through arrogant delight | |
Of th high descent whereof he was yborne, | |
And through presumption of his matchlesse might, | |
All other powres and knighthood he did scorne. | 85 |
Such now he marcheth to this man forlorne, | |
And left to losse: his stalking steps are stayde | |
Upon a snaggy oke, which he had torne | |
Out of his mothers bowelles, and it made | |
His mortall mace, wherewith his foemen he dismayde. | 90 |
|
XI That when the knight he spyde, he gan advaunce | |
With huge force and insupportable mayne, | |
And towardes him with dreadfull fury praunce; | |
Who haplesse, and eke hopelesse, all in vaine | |
Did to him pace, sad battaile to darrayne, | 95 |
Disarmd, disgraste, and inwardly dismayde, | |
And eke so faint in every joynt and vayne, | |
Through that fraile fountain, which him feeble made, | |
That scarsely could he weeld his bootlesse single blade. | |
|
XII The geaunt strooke so maynly mercilesse, | 100 |
That could have overthrowne a stony towre, | |
And were not hevenly grace, that him did blesse, | |
He had beene pouldred all, as thin as flowre: | |
But he was wary of that deadly stowre, | |
And lightly lept from underneath the blow: | 105 |
Yet so exceeding was the villeins powre | |
That with the winde it did him overthrow, | |
And all his sences stoond, that still he lay full low. | |
|
XIII As when that divelish yron engin, wrought | |
In deepest hell, and framd by furies skill, | 110 |
With windy nitre and quick sulphur fraught, | |
And ramd with bollet rownd, ordaind to kill, | |
Conceiveth fyre, the heavens it doth fill | |
With thundring noyse, and all the ayre doth choke, | |
That none can breath, nor see, nor heare at will, | 115 |
Through smouldry cloud of duskish stincking smok, | |
That th onely breath him daunts, who hath escapt the stroke. | |
|
XIV So daunted when the geaunt saw the knight, | |
His heavie hand he heaved up on hye, | |
And him to dust thought to have battred quight, | 120 |
Untill Duessa loud to him gan crye, | |
O great Orgoglio, greatest under skye, | |
O hold thy mortall hand for ladies sake! | |
Hold for my sake, and doe him not to dye, | |
But vanquisht thine eternall bondslave make, | 125 |
And me, thy worthy meed, unto thy leman take. | |
|
XV He hearkned, and did stay from further harmes, | |
To gayne so goodly guerdon as she spake: | |
So willingly she came into his armes, | |
Who her as willingly to grace did take, | 130 |
And was possessed of his newfound make. | |
Then up he tooke the slombred sencelesse corse, | |
And ere he could out of his swowne awake, | |
Him to his castle brought with hastie forse, | |
And in a dongeon deep him threw without remorse. | 135 |
|
XVI From that day forth Duessa was his deare, | |
And highly honourd in his haughtie eye; | |
He gave her gold and purple pall to weare, | |
And triple crowne set on her head full hye, | |
And her endowd with royall majestye: | 140 |
Then, for to make her dreaded more of men, | |
And peoples hartes with awfull terror tye, | |
A monstrous beast ybredd in filthy fen | |
He chose, which he had kept long time in darksom den. | |
|
XVII Such one it was, as that renowmed snake | 145 |
Which great Alcides in Stremona slew, | |
Long fostred in the filth of Lerna lake, | |
Whose many heades out budding ever new | |
Did breed him endlesse labor to subdew: | |
But this same monster much more ugly was; | 150 |
For seven great heads out of his body grew, | |
An yron brest, and back of scaly bras, | |
And all embrewd in blood, his eyes did shine as glas. | |
|
XVIII His tayle was stretched out in wondrous length, | |
That to the hous of hevenly gods it raught, | 155 |
And with extorted powre, and borrowd strength, | |
The everburning lamps from thence it braught, | |
And prowdly threw to ground, as things of naught; | |
And underneath his filthy feet did tread | |
The sacred thinges, and holy heastes foretaught. | 160 |
Upon this dreadfull beast with sevenfold head | |
He sett the false Duessa, for more aw and dread. | |
|
XIX The wofull dwarfe, which saw his maisters fall, | |
Whiles he had keeping of his grasing steed, | |
And valiant knight become a caytive thrall, | 165 |
When all was past, tooke up his forlorne weed; | |
His mightie armour, missing most at need; | |
His silver shield, now idle maisterlesse; | |
His poynant speare, that many made to bleed; | |
The ruefull moniments of heavinesse; | 170 |
And with them all departes, to tell his great distresse. | |
|
XX He had not travalid long, when on the way | |
He wofull lady, wofull Una, met, | |
Fast flying from the Paynims greedy pray, | |
Whilest Satyrane him from pursuit did let: | 175 |
Who when her eyes she on the dwarf had set, | |
And saw the signes, that deadly tydinges spake, | |
She fell to ground for sorrowfull regret, | |
And lively breath her sad brest did forsake, | |
Yet might her pitteous hart be seene to pant and quake. | 180 |
|
XXI The messenger of so unhappie newes | |
Would faine have dyde; dead was his hart within; | |
Yet outwardly some little comfort shewes: | |
At last recovering hart, he does begin | |
To rubb her temples, and to chaufe her chin, | 185 |
And everie tender part does tosse and turne: | |
So hardly he the flitted life does win, | |
Unto her native prison to retourne: | |
Then gins her grieved ghost thus to lament and mourne: | |
|
XXII Ye dreary instruments of dolefull sight, | 190 |
That doe this deadly spectacle behold, | |
Why do ye lenger feed on loathed light, | |
Or liking find to gaze on earthly mould, | |
Sith cruell fates the carefull threds unfould, | |
The which my life and love together tyde? | 195 |
Now let the stony dart of sencelesse cold | |
Perce to my hart, and pas through everie side, | |
And let eternall night so sad sight fro me hyde. | |
|
XXIII O lightsome day, the lampe of highest Jove, | |
First made by him, mens wandring wayes to guyde, | 200 |
When darknesse he in deepest dongeon drove, | |
Henceforth thy hated face for ever hyde, | |
And shut up heavens windowes shyning wyde: | |
For earthly sight can nought but sorow breed, | |
And late repentance, which shall long abyde. | 205 |
Mine eyes no more on vanitie shall feed, | |
But, seeled up with death, shall have their deadly meed. | |
|
XXIV Then downe againe she fell unto the ground; | |
But he her quickly reared up againe: | |
Thrise did she sinke adowne in deadly swownd, | 210 |
And thrise he her revivd with busie paine: | |
At last, when life recoverd had the raine, | |
And over-wrestled his strong enimy, | |
With foltring tong, and trembling everie vaine, | |
Tell on, quoth she, the wofull tragedy, | 215 |
The which these reliques sad present unto mine eye. | |
|
XXV Tempestuous Fortune hath spent all her spight, | |
And thrilling Sorrow throwne his utmost dart; | |
Thy sad tong cannot tell more heavy plight | |
Then that I feele, and harbour in mine hart: | 220 |
Who hath endurd the whole, can beare ech part. | |
If death it be, it is not the first wound, | |
That launched hath my brest with bleeding smart. | |
Begin, and end the bitter balefull stound; | |
If lesse then that I feare, more favour I have found. | 225 |
|
XXVI Then gan the dwarfe the whole discourse declare: | |
The subtile traines of Archimago old; | |
The wanton loves of false Fidessa fayre, | |
Bought with the blood of vanquisht Paynim bold; | |
The wretched payre transformd to treen mould; | 230 |
The House of Pryde, and perilles round about; | |
The combat, which he with Sansjoy did hould; | |
The lucklesse conflict with the gyaunt stout, | |
Wherein captivd, of life or death he stood in doubt. | |
|
XXVII She heard with patience all unto the end, | 235 |
And strove to maister sorrowfull assay, | |
Which greater grew, the more she did contend, | |
And almost rent her tender hart in tway; | |
And love fresh coles unto her fire did lay: | |
For greater love, the greater is the losse. | 240 |
Was never lady loved dearer day, | |
Then she did love the Knight of the Redcrosse; | |
For whose deare sake so many troubles her did tosse. | |
|
XXVIII At last, when fervent sorrow slaked was, | |
She up arose, resolving him to find, | 245 |
Alive or dead; and forward forth doth pas, | |
All as the dwarfe the way to her assynd; | |
And ever more, in constant carefull mind, | |
She fedd her wound with fresh renewed bale: | |
Long tost with stormes, and bet with bitter wind, | 250 |
High over hills, and lowe adowne the dale, | |
She wandred many a wood, and measurd many a vale. | |
|
XXIX At last she channced by good hap to meet | |
A goodly knight, faire marching by the way, | |
Together with his squyre, arayed meet: | 255 |
His glitterand armour shined far away, | |
Like glauncing light of Phbus brightest ray; | |
From top to toe no place appeared bare, | |
That deadly dint of steele endanger may: | |
Athwart his brest a bauldrick brave he ware, | 260 |
That shind, like twinkling stars, with stones most pretious rare. | |
|
XXX And in the midst thereof, one pretious stone | |
Of wondrous worth, and eke of wondrous mights, | |
Shapt like a ladies head, exceeding shone, | |
Like Hesperus emongst the lesser lights, | 265 |
And strove for to amaze the weaker sights: | |
Thereby his mortall blade full comely hong | |
In yvory sheath, ycarvd with curious slights; | |
Whose hilts were burnisht gold, and handle strong | |
Of mother perle, and buckled with a golden tong. | 270 |
|
XXXI His haughtie helmet, horrid all with gold, | |
Both glorious brightnesse and great terrour bredd; | |
For all the crest a dragon did enfold | |
With greedie pawes, and over all did spredd | |
His golden winges: his dreadfull hideous hedd, | 275 |
Close couched on the bever, seemd to throw | |
From flaming mouth bright sparckles fiery redd, | |
That suddeine horrour to faint hartes did show; | |
And scaly tayle was stretcht adowne his back full low. | |
|
XXXII Upon the top of all his loftie crest, | 280 |
A bounch of heares discolourd diversly, | |
With sprincled pearle and gold full richly drest, | |
Did shake, and seemd to daunce for jollity; | |
Like to an almond tree ymounted hye | |
On top of greene Selinis all alone, | 285 |
With blossoms brave bedecked daintily; | |
Whose tender locks do tremble every one | |
At everie little breath, that under heaven is blowne. | |
|
XXXIII His warlike shield all closely coverd was, | |
Ne might of mortall eye be ever seene; | 290 |
Not made of steele, nor of enduring bras; | |
Such earthly mettals soone consumed beene; | |
But all of diamond perfect pure and cleene | |
It framed was, one massy entire mould, | |
Hewen out of adamant rocke with engines keene, | 295 |
That point of speare it never percen could, | |
Ne dint of direfull sword divide the substance would. | |
|
XXXIV The same to wight he never wont disclose, | |
But when as monsters huge he would dismay, | |
Or daunt unequall armies of his foes, | 300 |
Or when the flying heavens he would affray: | |
For so exceeding shone his glistring ray, | |
That Phbus golden face it did attaint, | |
As when a cloud his beames doth over-lay; | |
And silver Cynthia wexed pale and faynt, | 305 |
As when her face is staynd with magicke arts constraint. | |
|
XXXV No magicke arts hereof had any might, | |
Nor bloody wordes of bold enchaunters call, | |
But all that was not such as seemd in sight | |
Before that shield did fade, and suddeine fall: | 310 |
And when him list the raskall routes appall, | |
Men into stones therewith he could transmew, | |
And stones to dust, and dust to nought at all; | |
And when him list the prouder lookes subdew, | |
He would them gazing blind, or turne to other hew. | 315 |
|
XXXVI Ne let it seeme that credence this exceedes; | |
For he that made the same was knowne right well | |
To have done much more admirable deedes. | |
It Merlin was, which whylome did excell | |
All living wightes in might of magicke spell: | 320 |
Both shield, and sword, and armour all he wrought | |
For this young Prince, when first to armes he fell; | |
But when he dyde, the Faery Queene it brought | |
To Faerie Lond, where yet it may be seene, if sought. | |
|
XXXVII A gentle youth, his dearely loved squire, | 325 |
His speare of heben wood behind him bare, | |
Whose harmeful head, thrise heated in the fire, | |
Had riven many a brest with pikehead square; | |
A goodly person, and could menage faire | |
His stubborne steed with curbed canon bitt, | 330 |
Who under him did trample as the aire, | |
And chauft, that any on his backe should sitt; | |
The yron rowels into frothy fome he bitt. | |
|
XXXVIII Whenas this knight night to the lady drew, | |
With lovely court he gan her entertaine; | 335 |
But when he heard her aunswers loth, he knew | |
Some secret sorrow did her heart distraine: | |
Which to allay, and calme her storming paine, | |
Faire feeling words he wisely gan display, | |
And for her humor fitting purpose faine, | 340 |
To tempt the cause it selfe for to bewray; | |
Wherewith enmovd, these bleeding words she gan to say: | |
|
XXXIX What worlds delight, or joy of living speach, | |
Can hart, so plungd in sea of sorrowes deep, | |
And heaped with so huge misfortunes, reach? | 345 |
The carefull cold beginneth for to creep, | |
And in my heart his yron arrow steep, | |
Soone as I thinke upon my bitter bale: | |
Such helplesse harmes yts better hidden keep, | |
Then rip up griefe, where it may not availe; | 350 |
My last left comfort is, my woes to weepe and waile. | |
|
XL Ah! lady deare, quoth then the gentle knight, | |
Well may I ween your grief is wondrous great; | |
For wondrous great griefe groneth in my spright, | |
Whiles thus I heare you of your sorrowes treat. | 355 |
But, woefull lady, let me you intrete | |
For to unfold the anguish of your hart: | |
Mishaps are maistred by advice discrete, | |
And counsell mitigates the greatest smart; | |
Found never help, who never would his hurts impart. | 360 |
|
XLI O but, quoth she, great griefe will not be tould, | |
And can more easily be thought then said. | |
Right so, quoth he; but he, that never would, | |
Could never: will to might gives greatest aid. | |
But griefe, quoth she, does greater grow displaid, | 365 |
If then it find not helpe, and breeds despaire. | |
Despaire breeds not, quoth he, where faith is staid. | |
No faith so fast, quoth she, but flesh does paire. | |
Flesh may empaire, quoth he, but reason can repaire. | |
|
XLII His goodly reason and well guided speach | 370 |
So deepe did settle in her gracious thought, | |
That her perswaded to disclose the breach, | |
Which love and fortune in her heart had wrought, | |
And said: Faire sir, I hope good hap hath brought | |
You to inquere the secrets of my griefe, | 375 |
Or that your wisedome will direct my thought, | |
Or that your prowesse can me yield reliefe: | |
Then heare the story sad, which I shall tell you briefe. | |
|
XLIII The forlorne maiden, whom your eies have seene | |
The laughing stocke of Fortunes mockeries, | 380 |
Am th onely daughter of a king and queene; | |
Whose parents deare, whiles equal destinies | |
Did ronne about, and their felicities | |
The favourable heavens did not envy, | |
Did spred their rule through all the territories, | 385 |
Which Phison and Euphrates floweth by, | |
And Gehons golden waves doe wash continually. | |
|
XLIV Till that their cruell cursed enemy, | |
An huge great dragon, horrible in sight, | |
Bred in the loathly lakes of Tartary, | 390 |
With murdrous ravine, and devouring might, | |
Their kingdome spoild, and countrey wasted quight: | |
Themselves, for feare into his jawes to fall, | |
He forst to castle strong to take their flight, | |
Where, fast embard in mighty brasen wall, | 395 |
He has them now fowr years besiegd, to make them thrall. | |
|
XLV Full many knights, adventurous and stout, | |
Have enterprizd that monster to subdew; | |
From every coast, that heaven walks about, | |
Have thither come the noble martial crew, | 400 |
That famous harde atchievements still pursew; | |
Yet never any could that girlond win, | |
But all still shronke, and still he greater grew: | |
All they for want of faith, or guilt of sin, | |
The pitteous pray of his fiers cruelty have bin. | 405 |
|
XLVI At last, yled with far reported praise, | |
Which flying fame throughout the world had spred, | |
Of doughty knights, whom Fary Land did raise, | |
That noble order hight of Maidenhed, | |
Forthwith to court of Gloriane I sped, | 410 |
Of Gloriane, great queene of glory bright, | |
Whose kingdomes seat Cleopolis is red, | |
There to obtaine some such redoubted kinght, | |
That parents deare from tyrants powre deliver might. | |
|
XLVII Yt was my chaunce (my chaunce was faire and good) | 415 |
There for to find a fresh unproved knight, | |
Whose manly hands imbrewd in guilty blood | |
Had never beene, ne ever by his might | |
Had throwne to ground the unregarded right: | |
Yet of his prowesse proofe he since hath made | 420 |
(I witnes am) in many a cruell fight; | |
The groning ghosts of many one dismaide | |
Have felt the bitter dint of his avenging blade. | |
|
XLVIII And ye, the forlorne reliques of his powre, | |
His biting sword, and his devouring speare, | 425 |
Which have endured many a dreadfull stowre, | |
Can speake his prowesse, that did earst you beare, | |
And well could rule: now he hath left you heare, | |
To be the record of his ruefull losse, | |
And of my dolefull disaventurous deare: | 430 |
O heavie record of the good Redcrosse, | |
Where have yee left your lord, that could so well you tosse? | |
|
XLIX Well hoped I, and faire beginnings had, | |
That he my captive languor should redeeme; | |
Till, all unweeting, an enchaunter bad | 435 |
His sence abusd, and made him to misdeeme | |
My loyalty, not such as it did seeme, | |
That rather death desire then such despight. | |
Be judge, ye heavens, that all things right esteeme, | |
How I him lovd, and love with all my might! | 440 |
So thought I eke of him, and think I thought aright. | |
|
L Thenceforth me desolate he quite forsooke, | |
To wander where wilde fortune would me lead, | |
And other by waies he himselfe betooke, | |
Where never foote of living wight did tread, | 445 |
That brought not backe the balefull body dead; | |
In which him chaunced false Duessa meete, | |
Mine onely foe, mine onely deadly dread, | |
Who with her witchcraft, and misseeming sweete, | |
Inveigled him to follow her desires unmeete. | 450 |
|
LI At last, by subtile sleights she him betraid | |
Unto his foe, a gyaunt huge and tall; | |
Who him disarmed, dissolute, dismaid, | |
Unwares surprised, and with mighty mall | |
The monster mercilesse him made to fall, | 455 |
Whose fall did never foe before behold; | |
And now in darkesome dungeon, wretched thrall, | |
Remedilesse, for aie he doth him hold; | |
This is my cause of griefe, more great then may be told. | |
|
LII Ere she had ended all, she gan to faint; | 460 |
But he her comforted, and faire bespake: | |
Certes, madame, ye have great cause of plaint, | |
That stoutest heart, I weene, could cause to quake. | |
But be of cheare, and comfort to you take: | |
For till I have acquitt your captive knight, | 465 |
Assure your selfe, I will you not forsake. | |
His chearefull words revivd her chearelesse spright: | |
So forth they went, the dwarfe them guiding ever right. | |
|