The Faerie Queene

by Edmund Spenser

  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.

  39 For she presuming on th’appointed tyde,

  In which ye promist, as ye were a Knight,

  To meete her at the saluage Hands syde,

  And then and there for triall of her right

  With her vnrigteous 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.

  40 And now he hath to her prefixt a day,

  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

  She death shall by. 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.

  41 Then thus replide; Now sure and by my life,

  Too much am I too blame 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

  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.

  42 But now aread, Sir Sergis, how long space,

  Hath he her lent, a Champion to prouide:

  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.

  43 Now turne againe (Sir Artegall then sayd)

  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.

  44 To which as they approcht, the cause to know,

  They saw a Knight in daungerous 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.

  45 Yet still he striues, ne any perill spares,

  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 frades 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.

  46 And now they doe so sharpely him assay,

  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.

  47 Whom when they thus distressed did behold,

  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.

  48 So when that Knight from perill deare was freed,

  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 Artegll gan then enquire

  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.

  49 To whom he thus; My name is Burbon hight,

  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.

  50 But sure to me her faith she first did plight,

  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.

  51 And now he hath this troupe of villains sent,

  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.

  52 But why haue ye (said Artegall) forborne

  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.

  53 True is, that I at first was dubbed knight

  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.

  54 But for that many did that shield enuie,

  And cruell enemies increased more;

  To stint all strife and tr
oublous 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 vntrutli mis-trayned.

  55 To whom thus Artegall; Certes Sir knight,

  Hard is the case, die 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 field;

  Dye rather, then doe ought, that mote dishonour yield.

  56 Not so; (quoth he) for yet when time doth serue,

  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.

  57 Yet let me you of courtesie request,

  (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 his powre and might.

  58 Who flocking round about them, as a swarme

  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.

  59 But when as ouerblowen was that brunt,

  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.

  60 At last they came whereas that Ladie bode,

  Whom now her keepers had 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.

  61 But Burbon straight dismounting from his steed,

  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.

  Whom when those knights so forward and forlore

  Beheld, they her rebuked and vpbrayded sore.

  62 Sayd Artegall; what foule disgrace is this,

  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 pretdous 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?

  63 Why then will ye, fond Dame, attempted bee

  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.

  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.

  64 Much was the Ladie in her gentle mind

  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.

  65 Nathlesse the yron man did still pursew

  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.

  CANTO XII

  Artegall doth Sir Burbon aide,

  And blames for changing shield:

  He with the great Grantorto fights,

  And slaieth him infield.

  1 O sacred hunger of ambitious mindes.

  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 long.

  2 Witnesse may Burbon be, whom all the bands,

  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.

  3 Gainst whom Sir Artegall, long hauing since

  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.

  4 Tho when they came to the sea coast, they found

  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 readi
e found them to repell,

  Great hostes of men in order martiall,

  Which them forbad to land, and footing did forstall.

  5 But nathemore would they from land refraine,

  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 & 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 doth affray.

  6 The whyles Sir Artegall, with that old knight

  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.

  7 But ere he marched farre, he with them met,

  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.

  8 Till Artegall him seeing so to rage,

  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.

  9 And willed him for to reclayme with speed

  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.

  10 That night Sir Artegall did cause his tent

  There to be pitched on the open plaine;

  For he had giuen streight commaundement,

  That none should dare him once to entertaine: