That living creature it would terrify 500
To looke adowne, or upward to the hight:
Form thence he threw him selfe dispiteously,
All desperate of his fore-dammed spright,
That seemd no help for him was left in living sight.
LVII
But through long anguish and selfe-murdring thought, 505
He was so wasted and forpined quight,
That all his substance was consum’d to nought,
And nothing left, but like an aery spright,
That on the rockes he fell so flit and light,
That he thereby receiv’d no hurt at all; 510
But chaunced on a craggy cliff to light;
Whence he with crooked clawes so long did crall,
That at the last he found a cave with entrance small.
LVIII
Into the same he creepes, and thenceforth there
Resolv’d to build his balefull mansion, 515
In drery darkenes, and continuall feare
Of that rocks fall, which ever and anon
Threates with huge ruine him to fall upon,
That he dare never sleepe, but that one eye
Still ope he keepes for that occasion; 520
Ne ever rests he in tranquillity,
The roring billowes beat his bowre so boystrously.
LIX
Ne ever is he wont on ought to feed
But todes and frogs, his pasture poysonous,
Which in his cold complexion doe breed 525
A filthy blood, or humour rancorous,
Matter of doubt and dread suspitious,
That doth with curelesse care consume the hart,
Corrupts the stomacke with gall vitious,
Croscuts the liver with internall smart, 530
And doth transfixe the soule with deathes eternall dart.
LX
Yet can he never dye, but dying lives,
And doth himselfe with sorrow new sustaine,
That death and life attonce unto him gives,
And painefull pleasure turnes to pleasing paine. 535
There dwels he ever, miserable swaine,
Hatefull both to him selfe and every wight;
Where he, through privy griefe and horrour vaine,
Is woxen so deform’d, that he has quight
Forgot he was a man, and Gelosy is hight. 540
Faerie Queene Detailed Table of Contents
Glossary for ‘The Faerie Queene’
Canto XI
Britomart chaceth Ollyphant;
Findes Scudamour distrest:
Assayes the house of Busyrane,
Where Loves spoyles are exprest.
I
O HATEFULL hellish snake! what Furie furst
Brought thee from balefull house of Proserpine,
Where in her bosome she thee long had nurst,
And fostred up with bitter milke of tine,
Fowle Gealosy! that turnest love divine 5
To joylesse dread, and mak’st the loving hart
With hatefull thoughts to languish and to pine,
And feed it selfe with selfe-consuming smart?
Of all the passions in the mind thou vilest art.
II
O let him far be banished away, 10
And in his stead let Love for ever dwell,
Sweete Love, that doth his golden wings embay
In blessed nectar, and pure pleasures well,
Untroubled of vile feare or bitter fell.
And ye, faire ladies, that your kingdomes make 15
In th’ harts of men, them governe wisely well,
And of faire Britomart ensample take,
That was as trew in love as turtle to her make.
III
Who with Sir Satyrane, as earst ye red,
Forth ryding from Malbeccoes hostlesse hous, 20
Far off aspyde a young man, the which fled
From an huge geaunt, that with hideous
And hatefull outrage long him chaced thus;
It was that Ollyphant, the brother deare
Of that Argante vile and vitious, 25
From whom the Squyre of Dames was reft whylere;
This all as bad as she, and worse, if worse ought were.
IV
For as the sister did in feminine
And filthy lust exceede all woman kinde,
So he surpassed his sex masculine, 30
In beastly use, all that I ever finde:
Whom when as Britomart beheld behinde
The fearefull boy so greedily poursew,
She was emmoved in her noble minde
T’ employ her puissaunce to his reskew, 35
And pricked fiercely forward, where she did him vew.
V
Ne was Sir Satyrane her far behinde,
But with like fiercenesse did ensew the chace:
Whom when the gyaunt saw, he soone resinde
His former suit, and from them fled apace: 40
They after both, and boldly bad him bace,
And each did strive the other to outgoe;
But he them both outran a wondrous space,
For he was long, and swift as any roe,
And now made better speed, t’ escape his feared foe. 45
VI
It was not Satyrane, whom he did feare,
But Britomart the flowre of chastity;
For he the powre of chaste hands might not beare,
But alwayes did their dread encounter fly:
And now so fast his feet he did apply, 50
That he has gotten to a forrest neare,
Where he is shrowded in security.
The wood they enter, and search everie where;
They searched diversely, so both divided were.
VII
Fayre Britomart so long him followed, 55
That she at last came to a fountaine sheare,
By which there lay a knight all wallowed
Upon the grassy ground, and by him neare
His haberjeon, his helmet, and his speare:
A little of, his shield was rudely throwne, 60
On which the Winged Boy in colours cleare
Depeincted was, full easie to be knowne,
And he thereby, where ever it in field was showne.
VIII
His face upon the grownd did groveling ly,
As if he had beene slombring in the shade, 65
That the brave mayd would not for courtesy
Out of his quiet slomber him abrade,
Nor seeme too suddeinly him to invade:
Still as she stood, she heard with grievous throb
Him grone, as if his hart were peeces made, 70
And with most painefull pangs to sigh and sob,
That pitty did the virgins hart of patience rob.
IX
At last forth breaking into bitter plaintes
He sayd: ‘O soverayne Lord, that sit’st on hye,
And raignst in blis emongst thy blessed saintes, 75
How suffrest thou such shamefull cruelty,
So long unwreaked of thine enimy?
Or hast thou, Lord, of good mens cause no heed?
Or doth thy justice sleepe, and silently?
What booteth then the good and righteous deed, 80
If goodnesse find no grace, nor righteousnes no meed?
X
‘If good find grace, and righteousnes reward,
Why then is Amoret in caytive band,
Sith that more bounteous creature never far’d
On foot upon the face of living land? 85
Or if that hevenly justice may withstand
The wrongfull outrage of unrighteous men,
Why then is Busirane with wicked hand
Suffred, these seven monethes day in secret den
My lady and my love so cruelly to pen? 90
XI
‘My lady and my love is cruelly pend
; In dolefull darkenes from the vew of day,
Whilest deadly torments doe her chast brest rend,
And the sharpe steele doth rive her hart in tway,
All for she Scudamore will not denay. 95
Yet thou, vile man, vile Scudamore, art sound,
Ne canst her ayde, ne canst her foe dismay;
Unworthy wretch to tread upon the ground,
For whom so faire a lady feeles so sore a wound.’
XII
There an huge heape of singulfes did oppresse 100
His strugling soule, and swelling throbs empeach
His foltring toung with pangs of drerinesse,
Choking the remnant of his plaintife speach,
As if his dayes were come to their last reach.
Which when she heard, and saw the ghastly fit, 105
Threatning into his life to make a breach,
Both with great ruth and terrour she was smit,
Fearing least from her cage the wearie soule would flit.
XIII
Tho stouping downe, she him amoved light;
Who, therewith somewhat starting, up gan looke, 110
And seeing him behind a stranger knight,
Whereas no living creature he mistooke,
With great indignaunce he that sight forsooke,
And downe againe himselfe disdainefully
Abjecting, th’ earth with his faire forhead strooke: 115
Which the bold virgin seeing, gan apply
Fit medcine to his griefe, and spake thus courtesly:
XIV
‘Ah! gentle knight, whose deepe conceived griefe
Well seemes t’ exceede the powre of patience,
Yet if that hevenly grace some good reliefe 120
You send, submit you to High Providence,
And ever in your noble hart prepense,
That all the sorrow in the world is lesse
Then vertues might and values confidence.
For who nill bide the burden of distresse 125
Must not here thinke to live: for life is wretchednesse.
XV
‘Therefore, faire sir, doe comfort to you take,
And freely read what wicked felon so
Hath outrag’d you, and thrald your gentle make.
Perhaps this hand may helpe to ease your woe, 130
And wreake your sorrow on your cruell foe;
At least it faire endevour will apply.’
Those feeling words so neare the quicke did goe,
That up his head he reared easily,
And leaning on his elbowe, these few words lett fly: 135
XVI
‘What boots it plaine that cannot be redrest,
And sow vaine sorrow in a fruitlesse eare,
Sith powre of hand, nor skill of learned brest,
Ne worldly price cannot redeeme my deare
Out of her thraldome and continuall feare? 140
For he, the tyrant, which her hath in ward
By strong enchauntments and blacke magicke leare,
Hath in a dungeon deepe her close embard,
And many dreadfull feends hath pointed to her gard.
XVII
‘There he tormenteth her most terribly, 145
And day and night afflicts with mortall paine,
Because to yield him love she doth deny,
Once to me yold, not to be yolde againe:
But yet by torture he would her constraine
Love to conceive in her disdainfull brest; 150
Till so she doe, she must in doole remaine,
Ne may by living meanes be thence relest:
What boots it then to plaine that cannot be redrest?’
XVIII
With this sad hersall of his heavy stresse
The warlike damzell was empassiond sore, 155
And sayd: ‘Sir knight, your cause is nothing lesse
Then is your sorrow, certes, if not more;
For nothing so much pitty doth implore,
As gentle ladyes helplesse misery.
But yet, if please ye listen to my lore, 160
I will, with proofe of last extremity,
Deliver her fro thence, or with her for you dy.’
XIX
‘Ah! gentlest knight alive,’ sayd Scudamore,
‘What huge heroicke magnanimity
Dwells in thy bounteous brest? what couldst thou more, 165
If shee were thine, and thou as now am I?
O spare thy happy daies, and them apply
To better boot, but let me die, that ought;
More is more losse: one is enough to dy.’
‘Life is not lost,’ said she, ‘for which is bought 170
Endlesse renowm, that more then death is to be sought.’
XX
Thus shee at length persuaded him to rise,
And with her wend, to see what new successe
Mote him befall upon new enterprise:
His armes, which he had vowed to disprofesse, 175
She gathered up and did about him dresse,
And his forwandred steed unto him gott:
So forth they both yfere make their progresse,
And march not past the mountenaunce of a shott,
Till they arriv’d whereas their purpose they did plott. 180
XXI
There they dismounting, drew their weapons bold,
And stoutly came unto the castle gate,
Whereas no gate they found, them to withhold,
Nor ward to wait at morne and evening late;
But in the porch, that did them sore amate, 185
A flaming fire, ymixt with smouldry smoke
And stinking sulphure, that with griesly hate
And dreadfull horror did all entraunce choke,
Enforced them their forward footing to revoke.
XXII
Greatly thereat was Britomart dismayd, 190
Ne in that stownd wist how her selfe to beare;
For daunger vaine it were to have assayd
That cruell element, which all things feare,
Ne none can suffer to approchen neare:
And turning backe to Scudamour, thus sayd: 195
‘What monstrous enmity provoke we heare,
Foolhardy as th’ Earthes children, the which made
Batteill against the gods? so we a god invade.
XXIII
‘Daunger without discretion to attempt
Inglorious and beastlike is: therefore, sir knight, 200
Aread what course of you is safest dempt,
And how we with our foe may come to fight.’
‘This is,’ quoth he, ‘the dolorous despight,
Which earst to you I playnd: for neither may
This fire be quencht by any witt or might, 205
Ne yet by any meanes remov’d away;
So mighty be th’ enchauntments which the same do stay.
XXIV
‘What is there ells, but cease these fruitlesse paines,
And leave me to my former languishing?
Faire Amorett must dwell in wicked chaines, 210
And Scudamore here die with sorrowing.’
‘Perdy, not so,’ saide shee; ‘for shameful thing
Yt were t’ abandon noble chevisaunce,
For shewe of perill, without venturing:
Rather let try extremities of chaunce, 215
Then enterprised praise for dread to disavaunce.’
XXV
Therewith, resolv’d to prove her utmost might,
Her ample shield she threw before her face,
And her swords point directing forward right,
Assayld the flame, the which eftesoones gave place, 220
And did it selfe divide with equall space,
That through she passed, as a thonder bolt
Perceth the yielding ayre, and doth displace
The soring clouds into sad showres ymolt;
So to her yold the flames
, and did their force revolt. 225
XXVI
Whome whenas Scudamour saw past the fire,
Safe and untoucht, he likewise gan assay,
With greedy will and envious desire,
And bad the stubborne flames to yield him way:
But cruell Mulciber would not obay 230
His threatfull pride, but did the more augment
His mighty rage, and with imperious sway
Him forst (maulgre) his fercenes to relent,
And backe retire, all scorcht and pitifully brent.
XXVII
With huge impatience he inly swelt, 235
More for great sorrow that he could not pas
Then for the burning torment which he felt;
That with fell woodnes he effierced was,
And wilfully him throwing on the gras,
Did beat and bounse his head and brest ful sore; 240
The whiles the championesse now entred has
The utmost rowme, and past the formost dore,
The utmost rowme, abounding with all precious store.
XXVIII
For round about, the walls yclothed were
With goodly arras of great majesty, 245
Woven with gold and silke so close and nere,
That the rich metall lurked privily,
As faining to be hidd from envious eye;
Yet here, and there, and every where unwares
It shewd it selfe, and shone unwillingly; 250
Like a discolourd snake, whose hidden snares
Through the greene gras his long bright burnisht back declares.
XXIX
And in those tapets weren fashioned
Many faire pourtraicts, and many a faire feate;
And all of love, and al of lusty-hed, 255
As seemed by their semblaunt, did entreat;
And eke all Cupids warres they did repeate,
And cruell battailes, which he whilome fought
Gainst all the gods, to make his empire great;
Besides the huge massacres, which he wrought 260
On mighty kings and kesars, into thraldome brought.
XXX
Therein was writt, how often thondring Jove
Had felt the point of his hart percing dart,
And leaving heavens kingdome, here did rove
In straunge disguize, to slake his scalding smart; 265
Now like a ram, faire Helle to pervart,
Now like a bull, Europa to withdraw:
Ah! how the fearefull ladies tender hart
Did lively seeme to tremble, when she saw
The huge seas under her t’ obay her servaunts law! 270
XXXI
Soone after that, into a golden showre
Him selfe he chaung’d, faire Danaë to vew,
And through the roofe of her strong brasen towre
Did raine into her lap an hony dew,
The whiles her foolish garde, that litle knew 275
Of such deceipt, kept th’ yron dore fast bard,
Complete Works of Edmund Spenser Page 69