"O, lightsome Day, the lampe of highest love, First made by him mens wandring wayes to guyde, 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 sorrow breed, And late repentance, which shall long abyde. Mine eyes no more on vanitie shall feed, [meed." But, seeled up with death, shall have their deadly
Then downe againe she fell unto the ground; But he her quickly reared up againe; Thrise did she sinke adowne in deadly swownd, And thrise he her reviv'd with busie paine. At last when I fe recover'd had the raine, And over-wrestled his strong en'my, With foltring tong, and trembling everie vaine, "Tell on," quoth she, "the wofull tragedy, The which these reliques sad present unto mine eye: "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: Who hath endur'd 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."
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; The House of Pryde, and perilles round about; The combat, which he with Sansioy did hould; The lucklesse conflict with the gyaunt stout, Wherein captiv'd, of life or death he stood in doubt.
She heard with patience all unto the end; 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. 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.
At last when fervent sorrow slaked was, She up arose, resolving him to find Alive or dead; and forward forth doth pas, All as the dwarfe the way to her assynd; And evermore, in constant carefull mind, She fedd her wound with fresh renewed bale: Long tost with stormes, and bet with bitter wind, High over hills, and lowe adowne the dale, [vale. She wandred many a wood, and measurd many a
At last she chaunced by good hap to meet A goodly knight, faire marching by the way, Together with his squyre, arrayed meet: His glitterand armour shined far away, Like glauncing light of Phoebus 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, That shind, like twinkling stars, with stones most pretious rare:
And, in the midst thereof, one pretious stone Of wondrous worth, and eke of wondrous mights, Shapt like a lad es head, exceeding shone, Like Hesperus emongst the lesser lights, And strove for to amaze the weaker sights: Thereby his mortall blade full comely hong In yvory sheath, ycarv'd with curious slights, Whose hilts were burnisht gold; and handle strong Of mother perle; and buckled with a golden tong.
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, 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.
Upon the top of all his loftie crest,
A bounch of heares discolourd diversly, With sprincled pearle and gold full richly drest, Did shake, and seemd to daunce for iollity; Like to an almond tree ymounted hye On top of greene Selinis all alone, With blossoms brave bedecked daintily; Whose tender locks do tremble every one At everie little breath, that under Heaven is blowne. His warlike shield all closely cover'd was, Ne might of mortall eye be ever seene; Not made of steele, nor of enduring bras, (Such earthly mettals soon consumed beene) But all of diamond perfect pure and cleene It framed was, one massy éntire mould, Hew'n out of adamant rocke with engines keene, That point of speare it never percen could, Ne dint of direfull sword divide the substance would.
The same to wight he never wont disclose, But whenas monsters huge he would dismay, Or daunt unequall armies of his foes,
Or when the flying Heavens he would affray : For so exceeding shone his glistring ray, That Phoebus golden face it did attaint, As when a cloud his beames both over-lay; And silver Cynthia wexed pale and faynt, [straint. As when her face is staynd with magicke arts con-
No magicke arts hereof had any might, Nor bloody wordes of bold enchannters call; But all that was not such as seemd in sight Before that shield did fade, and suddeine fall: 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.
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: 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.
A gentle youth, his dearely loved squire, 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, 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.
Whenas this knight nigh to the lady drew, With lovely court he gan her entertaine; But, when he heard her aunswers loth, he knew Some secret sorrow did her heart distraine : Which to allay, and calme ber storming paine, Faire feeling words he wisely gan display, And, for her humor fitting purpose faine, To tempt the cause it selfe for to bewray; [to say; Wherewith enmovd, these bleeding words she gan "What worlds delight, or ioy of living speach, Can hart, so plungd in sea of sorrowes deep, And heaped with so huge misfortunes, reach? The careful! 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; My last left comfort is my woes to weepe and waile." "Ah, lady deare," quoth then the gentle knight, "Well may I ween your griefe is wondrous great; For wondrous great griefe groneth in my spright, Whiles thus I heare you of your sorrowes treat. But, woeful! 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." "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 dis- plaid,
If then it find not helpe, and breeds despaire." Despaire breeds not," quoth he, "where faith is staid." [paire." "No faith so fast," quoth she, "but flesh does "Flesh may empaire," quoth he, "but reason can repaire."
His goodly reason, and well-guided speach, 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; Or that your wisdome will direct my thought; Or that your prowesse cau me yield reliefe; [briefe. Then heare the story sad, which I shall tell you "The forlorne maiden, whom your eies have seene The laughing stocke of Fortunes mockeries, 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, Which Phison and Euphrates floweth by,
And Gehons golden waves doe wash continually :
"Till that their cruell cursed enemy, An huge great dragon, horrible in sight, Bred in the loathly lakes of Tartary, With murdrous ravine, and devouring might, Their kingdome spoild, and countrey wasted quight: Themselves, for feare into his iawes to fall, He forst to castle strong to take their flight; Where, fast embard in mighty brasen wall, [thrall. He has them now fowr years besiegd to make them
"Full many knights, adventurous and stout, Have enterpriz'd that monster to subdew: From every coast, that Heaven walks about, Have thither come the noble martial crew, 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.
"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, Of Gloriane, great queene of glory bright, Whose kingdomes seat Cleopolis is red; There to obtaine some such redoubted knight, That parents deare from tyrants powre deliver might.
"Yt was my chaunce (my chaunce was faire and There for to find a fresh unproved knight; [good) 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 (I witnes am) in many a cruell fight; The groning ghosts of many one dismaide Have felt the bitter dint of his avenging blade.
His biting Sword, and his devouring Speare, "And ye, the forlorne reliques of his powre, 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: O heavie record of the good Redcrosse, Where have ye left your lord, that could so well you tosse ?
"Well hoped I, and faire beginnings had, That he my captive languor should redeeme: Till all unweeting an enchaunter bad His sence abusd, and made him to misdeeme My loyalty, not such as it did seeme, That rather death desire then such despight. Be iudge, ye Heavens, that all things right esteeme, How I him lov'd, and love with all my might! So thought I eke of him, and think I thought aright.
"Thenceforth me desolate he quite forsooke, To wander, where wilde Fortune would me lead, And other bywaies he himselfe betooke, Where never foote of living wight did tread, 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.
"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, Whose fall did never foe before behold: And now in darkesome dungeon, wretched thrall, Remédilesse, for aie he doth him hold: [told," This is my cause of griefe, more great then may be
Ere she had ended all, she gan to faint: 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 acquit your captive knight, Assure your selfe, I will you not forsake." His chearefull words reviv'd her chearelesse spright: So forth they went, the dwarfe them guiding ever right.
Faire virgin, to redeeme her deare, Brings Arthure to the fight:
Who slayes the gyaunt, wounds the beast, And strips Duessa quight.
Ar me, how many perils doe enfold
The righteous man, to make him daily fall, Were not that heavenly grace doth him uphold, And stedfast Truth acquite him out of all! Her love is firme, her care continuall, So oft as he, through his own foolish pride Or weaknes, is to sinfull bands made thrall : Els should this redcrosse knight in bands have dyde, For whose deliverance she this prince doth thether guyd.
They sadly traveild thus, untill they came Nigh to a castle builded strong and hye: Then cryde the dwarfe, "Lo! yonder is the same, In which my lord, my liege, doth lucklesse ly Thrall to that gyaunts hatefull tyranny: Therefore, deare sir, your mightie powres assay." The noble knight alighted by and by From loftie steed, and badd the ladie stay,
The same before the geaunts gate he blew, That all the castle quaked from the grownd, And every dore of free-will open flew. The gyaunt selfe dismaied with that sownd, Where he with h's Duessa dalliaunce fownd, In hast came rushing forth from inner bowre, With staring countenaunce sterne, as one astownd, And staggering steps, to weet what sudden stowre Had wrought that horror strange, and dar'd his dreaded powre.
And after him the proud Duessa came, High mounted on her many-headed beast; And every head was crowned on his creast, And every head with fyrie tongue did flame,
And bloody mouthed with late cruell feast. That when the knight beheld, his mightie shild Upon his manly arme he soone addrest, And at bim fiersly flew, with corage fild, And eger greedinesse through every men.ber thrild. Therewith the gyaunt buckled him to fight, Inflamd with scornefull wrath and high disdaine, And lifting up his dreadfull club on hight, All armd with ragged snubbes and knottie graine, Him thought at first encounter to have slaine. But wise and wary was that noble pere; And, lightly leaping from so monstrous maine, Did fayre avoide the violence him nere; [beare;
It booted nought to thinke such thunderbolts to Ne shame he thought to shonne so hideous might: The ydle stroke, enforcing furious way, Missing the marke of his misay med sight, Did fall to ground, and with his heavy sway So deepely dinted in the driven clay, That three yardes deepe a furrow up did throw : The sad earth, wounded with so sore assay, Did grone full grievous underneath the blow; And, trembling with strange feare, did like an erth- quake show.
As when almightie Iove, in wrathfull mood, To wreake the guilt of mortall sins is bent, Hurles forth his thundring dart with deadly food, Enrold in flames, and smouldring dreriment, Through riven cloudes and molten firmament; Both loftie towres and highest trees hath rent, The fiers threeforked engin, making way, And all that might his angry passage stay; [clay.
To see what end of fight should him befall that day. And, shooting in the earth, castes up a mount of
So with his squire, th' admirer of his might, He marched forth towardes that castle wall; Whose gates he fownd fast shutt, ne living wight To warde the same, nor answere commers call. Then tooke that squire an horne of bugle small, Which hong adowne his side in twisted gold And tasselles gay; wyde wonders over all Of that same hornes great vertues weren told, Which had approved bene in uses manifold.
Was never wight that heard that shrilling sownd, But trembling feare did feel in every vaine: Three miles it might be easy heard arownd, And ecchoes three aunswer'd it selfe againe : No faulse enchauntment, nor deceiptfull traine, Might once abide the terror of that blast, But presently was void and wholly vaine: No gate so strong, no locke so firme and fast, But with that percing noise flew open quite, or brast.
His boystrous club, so buried in the grownd, He could not rearen up againe so light, But that the knight him at advantage fownd; And, whiles he strove his combred clubbe to quight Out of the earth, with blade all burning bright He smott off his left arme, which like a block Did fail to ground, depriv'd of native might; Large streames of blood out of the truncked stock Forth gushed, like fresh-water streame from riven rocke.
Dismayed with so desperate deadly wound, And eke impatient of unwonted payne, He lowdly brayd with beastly yelling sownd, That all the fieldes rebellowed againe : As great a noyse, as when in Cymbrian plaine An heard of bulles, whom kindly rage doth sting, Doe for the milky mothers want complaine, And fill the fieldes with troublous bellowing: [ring. The neighbor woods arownd with hollow murmur
That when his deare Duessa heard, and saw The evil stownd that daungerd her estate, Unto his aile she hastily did draw
Her dreadfull beast; who, swo'ne with blood of late, Came ramping forth with proud presumpteous gate, And threatned all his heades like flaming brandes But him the squire made quickly to retrate, Encountring fiers with single sword in hand; And twixt him and his lord did like a bulwarke stand.
The proud Duessa, full of wrathfull spight And fiers disdaine, to be affronted so, Enforst her purple beast with all her might, That stop out of the way to overthrce, Scorn ng the let of so unequall foe:
But nathënore would that corageous swayne To her yeeld passage, gainst his lord to goc; But with outrageous strokes did him restraine, And with his body bard the way atwixt them twaine.
Then tooke the angry witch her golden cup, Which still she bore, replete with magick artes; Death and despeyre did many thereof sup, And secret poyson through their inner partes; Th' eternall bale of heavie wounded harts: Which, after charmes and some enchauntments said, She lightly sprinkled on his weaker partes: Therewith his sturdie corage soon was quayd, And all his sences were with suddein dread dismayd.
So downe he fell before the cruell beast, Who on his neck his bloody clawes did seize, That life nigh crusht out of his panting brest: No powre he had to stirre, nor will to rize. That when the carefull knight gan well avise, He lightly left the foe with whom he fought, And to the beast gan turne his enterprise; For wondrous anguish in his hart it wrought, To see his loved squyre into such thraldom brought: And, high advauncing his blood-thirstie blade, Stroke one of those deformed heades so sore, That of his puissaunce proud ensample made; His monstrous scalpe down to his teeth it tore, And that misformed shape misshaped more: A sea of blood gusht from the gaping wownd, That her gay garments staynd with filthy gore, And overflowed all the field arownd;
That over shoes in blood he waded on the grownd.
Thereat he rored for exceeding paine, That, to have heard, great horror would have bred; And scourging th' emptie ayre with his long trayne, Through great impatience of his grieved hed, His gorgeous ryder from her loftie sted Would have cast downe, and trodd in durty myre, Had not the gyaunt soone her succoused; Who, all enrag'd with smart and frantick yre, [tyre. Came hurtling in full fiers, aud forst the knight re-
The force, which wont in two to be disperst, In one alone left hand he now unites, [erst; Which is through rage more strong than both were With which his hideous club aloft he dites, And at his foe with furious rigor smites, That strongest oake might seeme to overthrow: The stroke upon his shield so heavie lites, That to the ground it doubleth him full low:- What mortall wight could ever beare so monstrous blow?
And eke the fruitfull-headed beast, amazd At flashing beames of that sunshiny shield, Became stark blind, and all his sences dazd, That downe he tumbled on the durtie field, And seemid himselfe as conquered to yield. Whom when his ma stresse proud perceiv'd to fall, Whiles yet his feeble feet for faintnesse reeld, Unto the gyaunt lowdly she gan call; "O! helpe, Orgoglio; helpe, or els we perish all."
At her so pitteous cry was much amoov'd Her champion stout; and, for to ayde his frend, Againe his wonted angry weapon proov'd, But all in vaine; for he has redd his end In that bright shield, and all their forces spend Themselves in vaine: for, since that glauncing sight, He hath no powre to hurt, nor to defend. As where th' Almighties lightning brond does light, It dimmes the dazed eyen, and daunts the sences quight.
Whom when the prince, to batteill new addrest And threatning high his dreadfull stroke, did see, His sparkling blade about his head he blest, And smote off quite his left leg by the knee, That downe he tombled; as an aged tree, High growing on the top of rocky clift, Whose hart-strings with keene stecle nigh hewen be; The might e trunck halfe rent with ragged rift Doth roll adowne the rocks, and fall with fearefull drift.
Or as a castle, reared high and round, By subtile engins and malitious slight Is undermined from the lowest ground, And her foundation forst, and feebled quight, At last downe falls; and with her heaped hight Her hastie ruine does more heavie make, And yields it selfe unto the victours might: Such was this gyaunts fall, that seemd to shake The stedfast globe of Earth, as it for feare did quake. The knight then, lightly leaping to the pray, With mortall steele him smot againe so sore, That headlesse his unweldy bodie lay, All wallowd in his owne fowle bloody gore, Which flowed from his wounds in wondrous store. But, soone as breath out of his brest did pas, That huge great body, which the gyaunt bore, Was vanisht quite; and of that monstrous mas Was nothing left, but like an emptie blader was.
Whose grievous fall when false Duessa spyde, Her golden cup she cast unto the ground, And crowned mitre rudely threw asyde: Such percing griefe her stubborne hart did wound, That she could not endure that dolefull stound; But, leaving all behind her, fled away: The light-foot squire her quickly turnd around, And, by hard meanes enforcing her to stay, So brought unto his lord, as his deserved pray.
The roiall virgin which beheld from farre, In pensive plight and sad perplexitie, The whole atchievement of this doubtfull warre, Came running fast to greet his victorie, With sober gladnesse and myld modestie; And, with sweet ioyous cheare, him thus bespake: Fayre braunch of noblesse, flowre of chevalrie, That with your worth the world amazed make, How shall I quite the paynes, ye suffer for my sake?
"And you, fresh budd of vertue, springing fast, Whom these sad eyes saw nigh unto Deaths dore, What hath poore virgin for such perill past Wherewith you to reward? Accept therefore My simple selfe, and service evermore. And He that high does sit, and all things see With equall eye, their merites to restore, Behold what ye this day have done for mee; And, what I cannot quite, requite with usuree! "But sith the Heavens, and your faire handeling, Have made you master of the field this day; Your fortune maister eke with governing, And, well begonne, end all so well, I pray! Ne let that wicked woman scape away; For she it is, that did my lord bethrall, My dearest lord, and deepe in dongeon lay; Where he his better dayes hath wasted all:
O heare, how piteous he to you for ayd does call!"
Forthwith he gave in charge unto his squyre, That scarlot whore to keepen carefully; Whyles he himselfe with greedie great desyre Into the castle entred forcibly,
Where living creature none he did espye: Then gan he lowdly through the house to call; But no man car'd to answere to his crye: There raignd a solemne silence over all;
Then asked he, which way he in might pas: He could not tell, againe he answered. Thereat the courteous knight displeased was, And said; "Old syre, it seemes thou hast not red How ill it sits with that same silver hed, In vaine to mocke, or mockt in vaine to bee: But if thou be, as thou art pourtrahed With Natures pen, in ages grave degree, Aread in graver wise what I demaund of thee."
His answere likewise was, He could not tell. Whose sencelesse speach, and doted ignorance, Whenas the noble prince had marked well, He ghest his nature by his countenance; And calm'd his wrath with goodly temperance. Then, to him stepping, from his arme did reache Those keyes, and made himselfe free enterance. Each dore he opened without any breach: There was no barre to stop, nor foe him to empeach.
There all within full rich arayd he found, With royall arras, and resplendent gold, And did with store of every thing abound, That greatest princes presence might behold. But all the floore (too filthy to be told) With blood of guiltlesse babes, and innocents trew, Which there were slaine, as sheepe out of the fold, Defiled was; that dreadfull was to vew ; And sacred ashes over it was strowed new.
And there beside of marble stone was built An altare, carv'd with cunning ymagery; On which trew Christians blood was often spilt, And holy martyres often doen to dye, With cruell malice and strong tyranny: Whose blessed sprites, from underneath the stone, To God for vengeance cryde continually; And with great griefe were often heard to grone;
Nor voice was heard, nor wight was seene in bowre That hardest heart would bleede to hear their piteor hall!
At last, with creeping crooked pace forth came An old old man, with beard as white as snow; That on a staffe his feeble steps did frame, And guyde his wearie gate both too and fro; For his eye sight him fayled long ygo: And on his arme a bounch of keyes he bore, The which unused rust did overgrow : Those were the keyes of every inner dore; [store. But he could not them use, but kept them still in
But very uncouth sight was to behold, How he did fashion his untoward pace; For as he forward moov'd his footing old, So backward still was turnd his wrincled face: Unlike to men, who ever, as they trace, Both feet and face one way are wont to lead. This was the auncient keeper of that place, And foster father of the gyaunt dead; His name Ignaro did his nature right aread.
His reverend heares and holy gravitee The knight much honord, as beseemed well; And gently askt, where all the people bee, Which in that stately building wont to dwell: Who answerd him full soft, He could not tell. Again he askt, where that same knight was layd, Whom great Orgoglio with his puissance fell Had made his caytive thrall: againe he sayde, He could not tell; ne ever other answere made.
Through every rowme he sought, and everie bowr; But no where could he find that wofull thrall. At last he came unto an yron doore, That fast was lockt; but key found not at all Emongst that bounch to open it withall; But in the same a little grate was pight, Through which he sent his voyce, and lowd did call With all his powre, to weet if living wight Were housed therewithin, whom he enlargen might. Therewith an hollow, dreary, murmuring voyce These pitteous plaintes and dolours did resound; "O! who is that, which bringes me happy choyce Of death, that here lye dying every stound, Yet live perforce in balefull darknesse bound? For now three moones have changed thrice their hew, And have been thrice hid underneath the ground, Since I the Heavens chearefull face did vew: [trew." O welcome, thou, that doest of death bring tydings
Which when that champion heard, with percing Of pitty deare his hart was thrilled sore; [point And trembling horrour ran through every ioynt, For ruth of gentle knight so fowle forlore: Which shaking off, he rent that yron dore With furious force and indignation fell; Where entred in, his foot could find no flore, But all a deepe descent, as dark as Hell, That breathed ever forth a filthie banefull smell.
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