Complete Works of Edmund Spenser

by Edmund Spenser

  For in that court whylome her well they knew:

  Yet the stout Faery mongst the middest crowd

  Thought all their glorie vaine in knightly vew,

  And that great princesse too exceeding prowd,

  That to strange knight no better countenance allowd. 135

  XVI

  Suddein upriseth from her stately place

  The roiall dame, and for her coche doth call:

  All hurtlen forth, and she, with princely pace,

  As faire Aurora, in her purple pall,

  Out of the east the dawning day doth call, 140

  So forth she comes: her brightnes brode doth blaze:

  The heapes of people, thronging in the hall,

  Doe ride each other, upon her to gaze:

  Her glorious glitterand light doth all mens eies amaze.

  XVII

  So forth she comes, and to her coche does clyme, 145

  Adorned all with gold and girlonds gay,

  That seemd as fresh as Flora in her prime,

  And strove to match, in roiall rich array,

  Great Junoes golden chayre, the which, they say,

  The gods stand gazing on, when she does ride 150

  To Joves high hous through heavens bras-paved way,

  Drawne of fayre pecocks, that excell in pride,

  And full of Argus eyes their tayles dispredden wide.

  XVIII

  But this was drawne of six unequall beasts,

  On which her six sage counsellours did ryde, 155

  Taught to obay their bestiall beheasts,

  With like conditions to their kindes applyde:

  Of which the first, that all the rest did guyde,

  Was sluggish Idlenesse, the nourse of sin;

  Upon a slouthfull asse he chose to ryde, 160

  Arayd in habit blacke, and amis thin,

  Like to an holy monck, the service to begin.

  XIX

  And in his hand his portesse still he bare,

  That much was worne, but therein little redd;

  For of devotion he had little care, 165

  Still drownd in sleepe, and most of his daies dedd:

  Scarse could he once uphold his heavie hedd,

  To looken whether it were night or day:

  May seeme the wayne was very evill ledd,

  When such an one had guiding of the way, 170

  That knew not whether right he went, or else astray.

  XX

  From worldly cares himselfe he did esloyne,

  And greatly shunned manly exercise;

  From everie worke he ehalenged essoyne,

  For contemplation sake: yet otherwise 175

  His life he led in lawlesse riotise;

  By which he grew to grievous malady;

  For in his lustlesse limbs, through evill guise,

  A shaking fever raignd continually.

  Such one was Idlenesse, first of this company. 180

  XXI

  And by his side rode loathsome Gluttony,

  Deformed creature, on a filthie swyne:

  His belly was upblowne with luxury,

  And eke with fatnesse swollen were his eyne;

  And like a crane his necke was long and fyne, 185

  With which he swallowd up excessive feast,

  For want whereof poore people oft did pyne:

  And all the way, most like a brutish beast,

  He spued up his gorge, that all did him deteast.

  XXII

  In greene vine leaves he was right fitly clad; 190

  For other clothes he could not weare for heat;

  And on his head an yvie girland had,

  From under which fast trickled downe the sweat:

  Still as he rode, he somewhat still did eat,

  And in his hand did beare a bouzing can, 195

  Of which he supt so oft, that on his seat

  His dronken corse he scarse upholden can:

  In shape and life more like a monster then a man.

  XXIII

  Unfit he was for any worldly thing,

  And eke unhable once to stirre or go; 200

  Not meet to be of counsell to a king,

  Whose mind in meat and drinke was drowned so,

  That from his frend he seeldome knew his fo:

  Full of diseases was his carcas blew,

  And a dry dropsie through his flesh did flow, 205

  Which by misdiet daily greater grew.

  Such one was Gluttony, the second of that crew.

  XXIV

  And next to him rode lustfull Lechery

  Upon a bearded gote, whose rugged heare,

  And whally eies (the signe of gelosy,) 210

  Was like the person selfe, whom he did beare:

  Who rough, and blacke, and filthy, did appeare,

  Unseemely man to please faire ladies eye;

  Yet he of ladies oft was loved deare,

  When fairer faces were bid standen by: 215

  O who does know the bent of womens fantasy?

  XXV

  In a greene gowne he clothed was full faire,

  Which underneath did hide his filthinesse;

  And in his hand a burning hart he bare,

  Full of vaine follies and new fanglenesse; 220

  For he was false, and fraught with ficklenesse,

  And learned had to love with secret lookes,

  And well could daunce, and sing with ruefulnesse,

  And fortunes tell, and read in loving bookes,

  And thousand other waies, to bait his fleshly hookes. 225

  XXVI

  Inconstant man, that loved all he saw,

  And lusted after all that he did love;

  Ne would his looser life be tide to law,

  But joyd weake wemens hearts to tempt, and prove

  If from their loyall loves he might them move; 230

  Which lewdnes fild him with reprochfull pain

  Of that foule evill, which all men reprove,

  That rotts the marrow, and consumes the braine.

  Such one was Lechery, the third of all this traine.

  XXVII

  And greedy Avarice by him did ride, 235

  Uppon a camell loaden all with gold:

  Two iron coffers hong on either side,

  With precious metall full as they might hold,

  And in his lap an heap of coine he told;

  For of his wicked pelfe his god he made, 240

  And unto hell him selfe for money sold:

  Accursed usury was all his trade;

  And right and wrong ylike in equall ballaunce waide.

  XXVIII

  His life was nigh unto deaths dore yplaste;

  And thred-bare cote, and cobled shoes, hee ware, 245

  Ne scarse good morsell all his life did taste,

  But both from backe and belly still did spare,

  To fill his bags, and richesse to compare;

  Yet childe ne kinsman living had he none

  To leave them to; but thorough daily care 250

  To get, and nightly feare to lose his owne,

  He led a wretched life, unto him selfe unknowne.

  XXIX

  Most wretched wight, whom nothing might suffise,

  Whose greedy lust did lacke in greatest store,

  Whose need had end, but no end covetise, 255

  Whose welth was want, whose plenty made him pore,

  Who had enough, yett wished ever more,

  A vile disease; and eke in foote and hand

  A grievous gout tormented him full sore,

  That well he could not touch, nor goe, nor stand. 260

  Such one was Avarice, the forth of this faire band.

  XXX

  And next to him malicious Envy rode

  Upon a ravenous wolfe, and still did chaw

  Betweene his cankred teeth a venemous tode,

  That all the poison ran about his chaw; 265

  But inwardly he chawed his owne mawr />
  At neibors welth, that made him ever sad;

  For death it was, when any good he saw;

  And wept, that cause of weeping none he had;

  But when he heard of harme, he wexed wondrous glad. 270

  XXXI

  All in a kirtle of discolourd say

  He clothed was, ypaynted full of eies;

  And in his bosome secretly there lay

  An hatefull snake, the which his taile uptyes

  In many folds, and mortall sting implyes. 275

  Still as he rode, he gnasht his teeth, to see

  Those heapes of gold with griple Covetyse;

  And grudged at the great felicitee

  Of proud Lucifera, and his owne companee.

  XXXII

  He hated all good workes and vertuous deeds, 280

  And him no lesse, that any like did use;

  And who with gratious bread the hungry feeds,

  His almes for want of faith he doth accuse;

  So every good to bad he doth abuse:

  And eke the verse of famous poets witt 285

  He does backebite, and spightfull poison spues

  From leprous mouth on all that ever writt.

  Such one vile Envy was, that fifte in row did sitt.

  XXXIII

  And him beside rides fierce revenging Wrath,

  Upon a lion, loth for to be led; 290

  And in his hand a burning brond he hath,

  The which he brandisheth about his hed:

  His eies did hurle forth sparcles fiery red,

  And stared sterne on all that him beheld:

  As ashes pale of hew, and seeming ded; 295

  And on his dagger still his hand he held,

  Trembling through hasty rage, when choler in him sweld.

  XXXIV

  His ruffin raiment all was staind with blood,

  Which he had spilt, and all to rags yrent,

  Through unadvized rashnes woxen wood; 300

  For of his hands he had no governement,

  Ne car’d for blood in his avengement:

  But when the furious fitt was overpast,

  His cruell facts he often would repent;

  Yet, wilfull man, he never would repent; 305

  How many mischieves should ensue his heedlesse hast.

  XXXV

  Full many mischiefes follow cruell Wrath;

  Abhorred bloodshed, and tumultuous strife,

  Unmanly murder, and unthrifty scath,

  Bitter despight, with rancours rusty knife, 310

  And fretting griefe, the enemy of life:

  All these, and many evils moe haunt Ire;

  The swelling splene, and frenzy raging rife,

  The shaking palsey, and Saint Fraunces fire.

  Such one was Wrath, the last of this ungodly tire. 315

  XXXVI

  And after all, upon the wagon beame,

  Rode Sathan, with a smarting whip in hand,

  With which he forward lasht the laesy teme,

  So oft as Slowth still in the mire did stand.

  Huge routs of people did about them band, 320

  Showting for joy; and still before their way

  A foggy mist had covered all the land;

  And underneath their feet, all scattered lay

  Dead sculls and bones of men, whose life had gone astray.

  XXXVII

  So forth they marchen in this goodly sort, 325

  To take the solace of the open aire,

  And in fresh flowring fields themselves to sport.

  Emongst the rest rode that false lady faire,

  The foule Duessa, next unto the chaire

  Of proud Lucifer’, as one of the traine: 330

  But that good knight would not so nigh repaire,

  Him selfe estraunging from their joyaunce vaine,

  Whose fellowship seemd far unfitt for warlike swaine.

  XXXVIII

  So having solaced themselves a space,

  With pleasaunce of the breathing fields yfed, 335

  They backe retourned to the princely place;

  Whereas an errant knight, in armes ycled,

  And heathnish shield, wherein with letters red

  Was writt Sans joy, they new arrived find:

  Enflam’d with fury and fiers hardyhed, 340

  He seemd in hart to harbour thoughts unkind,

  And nourish bloody vengeaunce in his bitter mind.

  XXXIX

  Who, when the shamed shield of slaine Sansfoy

  He spide with that same Fary champions page,

  Bewraying him that did of late destroy 345

  His eldest brother, burning all with rage,

  He to him lept, and that same envious gage

  Of victors glory from him snacht away:

  But th’ Elfin knight, which ought that warlike wage,

  Disdaind to loose the meed he wonne in fray, 350

  And him rencountring fierce, reskewd the noble pray.

  XL

  Therewith they gan to hurtlen greedily,

  Redoubted battaile ready to darrayne,

  And clash their shields, and shake their swerds on hy,

  That with their sturre they troubled all the traine; 355

  Till that great queene, upon eternall paine

  Of high displeasure, that ensewen might,

  Commaunded them their fury to refraine,

  And if that either to that shield had right,

  In equall lists they should the morrow next it fight. 360

  XLI

  ‘Ah! dearest dame,’ quoth then the Paynim bold,

  ‘Pardon the error of enraged wight,

  Whome great griefe made forgett the raines to hold

  Of reasons rule, to see this recreaunt knight,

  No knight, but treachour full of false despight 365

  And shameful treason, who through guile hath slayn

  The prowest knight that ever field did fight,

  Even stout Sansfoy, (O who can then refrayn?)

  Whose shield he beares renverst, the more to heap disdayn.

  XLII

  ‘And to augment the glorie of his guile, 370

  His dearest love, the faire Fidessa, loe!

  Is there possessed of the traytour vile,

  Who reapes the harvest sowen by his foe,

  Sowen in bloodie field, and bought with woe:

  That brothers hand shall dearely well requight, 375

  So be, O Queene, you equall favour showe.’

  Him litle answerd th’ angry Elfin knight;

  He never meant with words, but swords, to plead his right:

  XLIII

  But threw his gauntlet as a sacred pledg,

  His cause in combat the next day to try: 380

  So been they parted both, with harts on edg

  To be aveng’d each on his enimy.

  That night they pas in joy and jollity,

  Feasting and courting both in bowre and hall;

  For steward was excessive Gluttony, 385

  That of his plenty poured forth to all;

  Which doen, the chamberlain Slowth did to rest them call.

  XLIV

  Now whenas darkesome Night had all displayd

  Her coleblacke curtein over brightest skye,

  The warlike youthes, on dayntie couches layd, 390

  Did chace away sweet sleepe from sluggish eye,

  To muse on meanes of hoped victory.

  But whenas Morpheus had with leaden mace

  Arrested all that courtly company,

  Uprose Duessa from her resting place, 395

  And to the Paynims lodging comes with silent pace.

  XLV

  Whom broad awake she findes, in troublous fitt,

  Forecasting, how his foe he might annoy,

  And him amoves with speaches seeming fitt:

  ‘Ah deare Sansjoy, next dearest to Sansfoy, 400

  Cause of my new griefe, cause of my new joy,

 
Joyous, to see his ymage in mine eye,

  And greevd, to thinke how foe did him destroy,

  That was the flowre of grace and chevalrye;

  Lo! his Fidessa, to thy secret faith I flye.’ 405

  XLVI

  With gentle wordes he can her fayrely greet,

  And bad say on the secrete of her hart.

  Then, sighing soft, ‘I learne that litle sweet

  Oft tempred is,’ quoth she, ‘with muchell smart:

  For since my brest was launcht with lovely dart 410

  Of deare Sansfoy, I never joyed howre,

  But in eternall woes my weaker hart

  Have wasted, loving him with all my powre,

  And for his sake have felt full many an heavie stowre.

  XLVII

  ‘At last, when perils all I weened past, 415

  And hop’d to reape the crop of all my care,

  Into new woes unweeting I was cast

  By this false faytor, who unworthie ware

  His worthie shield, whom he with guilefull snare

  Entrapped slew, and brought to shamefull grave. 420

  Me, silly maid, away with him he bare,

  And ever since hath kept in darksom cave,

  For that I would not yeeld that to Sansfoy I gave.

  XLVIII

  ‘But since faire sunne hath sperst that lowring clowd,

  And to my loathed life now shewes some light, 425

  Under your beames I will me safely shrowd

  From dreaded storme of his disdainfull spight:

  To you th’inheritance belonges by right

  Of brothers prayse, to you eke longes his love.

  Let not his love, let not his restlesse spright, 430

  Be unreveng’d, that calles to you above

  From wandring Stygian shores, where it doth endlesse move.’

  XLIX

  Thereto said he, ‘Faire dame, be nought dismaid

  For sorrowes past; their griefe is with them gone:

  Ne yet of present perill be affraid: 435

  For needlesse feare did never vantage none,

  And helplesse hap it booteth not to mone.

  Dead is Sansfoy, his vitall paines are past,

  Though greeved ghost for vengeance deep do grone:

  He lives, that shall him pay his dewties last, 440

  And guiltie Elfin blood shall sacrifice in hast.’

  L

  ‘O! but I feare the fickle freakes,’ quoth shee,

  ‘Of Fortune false, and oddes of armes in field.’

  ‘Why, dame,’ quoth he, ‘what oddes can ever bee,

  Where both doe fight alike, to win or yield?’ 445

  ‘Yea, but,’ quoth she, ‘he beares a charmed shield,

  And eke enchaunted armes, that none can perce,

  Ne none can wound the man, that does them wield.’

  ‘Charmd or enchaunted,’ answerd he then ferce,

  ‘I no whitt reck, ne you the like need to reherce. 450

  LI

  ‘But, faire Fidessa, sithens Fortunes guile,