Complete Works of Edmund Spenser

by Edmund Spenser

  He started up, there where on ground he lay,

  And in his hand his thresher ready keight.

  They seeing that, let drive at him streight way, 260

  And round about him preace in riotous aray.

  XXX

  But soone as he began to lay about

  With his rude yron flaile, they gan to flie,

  Both armed knights and eke unarmed rout:

  Yet Talus after them apace did plie, 265

  Where ever in the darke he could them spie;

  That here and there like scattred sheepe they lay.

  Then backe returning, where his dame did lie,

  He to her told the story of that fray,

  And all that treason there intended did bewray. 270

  XXXI

  Wherewith though wondrous wroth, and inly burning

  To be avenged for so fowle a deede,

  Yet being forst to abide the daies returning,

  She there remain’d, but with right wary heede,

  Least any more such practise should proceede. 275

  Now mote ye know (that which to Britomart

  Unknowen was) whence all this did proceede,

  And for what cause so great mischievous smart

  Was ment to her, that never evill ment in hart.

  XXXII

  The goodman of this house was Dolon hight, 280

  A man of subtill wit and wicked minde,

  That whilome in his youth had bene a knight,

  And armes had borne, but little good could finde,

  And much lesse honour by that warlike kinde

  Of life: for he was nothing valorous, 285

  But with slie shiftes and wiles did underminde

  All noble knights which were adventurous,

  And many brought to shame by treason treacherous.

  XXXIII

  He had three sonnes, all three like fathers sonnes,

  Like treacherous, like full of fraud and guile, 290

  Of all that on this earthly compasse wonnes:

  The eldest of the which was slaine erewhile

  By Artegall, through his owne guilty wile;

  His name was Guizor; whose untimely fate

  For to avenge, full many treasons vile 295

  His father Dolon had deviz’d of late

  With these his wicked sons, and shewd his cankred hate.

  XXXIV

  For sure he weend that this his present guest

  Was Artegall, by many tokens plaine;

  But chiefly by that yron page he ghest, 300

  Which still was wont with Artegall remaine;

  And therefore ment him surely to have slaine.

  But by Gods grace, and her good heedinesse,

  She was preserved from their traytrous traine.

  Thus she all night wore out in watchfulnesse, 305

  Ne suffred slothfull sleepe her eyelids to oppresse.

  XXXV

  The morrow next, so soone as dawning houre

  Discovered had the light to living eye,

  She forth yssew’d out of her loathed bowre,

  With full intent t’ avenge that villany 310

  On that vilde man and all his family:

  And comming down to seeke them where they wond,

  Nor sire, nor sonnes, nor any could she spie:

  Each rowme she sought, but them all empty fond:

  They all were fled for feare, but whether, nether kond. 315

  XXXVI

  She saw it vaine to make there lenger stay,

  But tooke her steede, and thereon mounting light,

  Gan her addresse unto her former way.

  She had not rid the mountenance of a flight,

  But that she saw there present in her sight 320

  Those two false brethren, on that perillous bridge

  On which Pollente with Artegall did fight.

  Streight was the passage like a ploughed ridge,

  That, if two met, the one mote needes fall over the lidge.

  XXXVII

  There they did thinke them selves on her to wreake: 325

  Who as she nigh unto them drew, the one

  These vile reproches gan unto her speake:

  ‘Thou recreant false traytor, that with lone

  Of armes hast knighthood stolne, yet knight art none,

  No more shall now the darkenesse of the night 330

  Defend thee from the vengeance of thy fone,

  But with thy bloud thou shalt appease the spright

  Of Guizor, by thee slaine, and murdred by thy slight.’

  XXXVIII

  Strange were the words in Britomartis eare;

  Yet stayd she not for them, but forward fared, 335

  Till to the perillous bridge she came, and there

  Talus desir’d that he might have prepared

  The way to her, and those two losels scared.

  But she thereat was wroth, that for despight

  The glauncing sparkles through her bever glared, 340

  And from her eies did flash out fiery light,

  Like coles that through a silver censer sparkle bright.

  XXXIX

  She stayd not to advise which way to take;

  But putting spurres unto her fiery beast,

  Thorough the midst of them she way did make. 345

  The one of them, which most her wrath increast,

  Uppon her speare she bore before her breast,

  Till to the bridges further end she past,

  Where falling downe, his challenge he releast:

  The other over side the bridge she cast 350

  Into the river, where he drunke his deadly last.

  XL

  As when the flashing levin haps to light

  Uppon two stubborne oakes, which stand so neare

  That way betwixt them none appeares in sight;

  The engin fiercely flying forth, doth teare 355

  Th’ one from the earth, and through the aire doth beare;

  The other it with force doth overthrow

  Uppon one side, and from his rootes doth reare:

  So did the Championesse those two there strow,

  And to their sire their carcasses left to bestow. 360

  Faerie Queene Detailed Table of Contents

  Glossary for ‘The Faerie Queene’

  Canto VII

  Britomart comes to Isis Church,

  Where shee strange visions sees:

  She fights with Radigund, her slaies,

  And Artegall thence frees.

  I

  NOUGHT is on earth more sacred or divine,

  That gods and men doe equally adore,

  Then this same vertue that doth right define:

  For th’ hevens themselves, whence mortal men implore

  Right in their wrongs, are rul’d by righteous lore 5

  Of highest Jove, who doth true justice deale

  To his inferiour gods, and evermore

  Therewith containes his heavenly commonweale:

  The skill whereof to princes hearts he doth reveale.

  II

  Well therefore did the antique world invent, 10

  That Justice was a god of soveraine grace,

  And altars unto him, and temples lent,

  And heavenly honours in the highest place;

  Calling him great Osyris, of the race

  Of th’ old Ægyptian kings, that whylome were; 15

  With fayned colours shading a true case:

  For that Osyris, whilest he lived here,

  The justest man alive and truest did appeare.

  III

  His wife was Isis, whom they likewise made

  A goddesse of great powre and soverainty, 20

  And in her person cunningly did shade

  That part of justice which is equity,

  Whereof I have to treat here presently.

  Unto whose temple when as Britomart

  Arrived, shee with great humility 25

  Did
enter in, ne would that night depart;

  But Talus mote not be admitted to her part.

  IV

  There she received was in goodly wize

  Of many priests, which duely did attend

  Uppon the rites and daily sacrifize, 30

  All clad in linnen robes with silver hemd;

  And on their heads, with long locks comely kemd,

  They wore rich mitres shaped like the moone,

  To shew that Isis doth the moone portend;

  Like as Osyris signifies the sunne: 35

  For that they both like race in equall justice runne.

  V

  The championesse them greeting, as she could,

  Was thence by them into the temple led;

  Whose goodly building when she did behould,

  Borne uppon stately pillours, all dispred 40

  With shining gold, and arched over hed,

  She wondred at the workemans passing skill,

  Whose like before she never saw nor red;

  And thereuppon long while stood gazing still,

  But thought that she thereon could never gaze her fill. 45

  VI

  Thence forth unto the idoll they her brought,

  The which was framed all of silver fine,

  So well as could with cunning hand be wrought,

  And clothed all in garments made of line,

  Hemd all about with fringe of silver twine. 50

  Uppon her head she wore a crowne of gold,

  To shew that she had powre in things divine;

  And at her feete a crocodile was rold,

  That with his wreathed taile her middle did enfold.

  VII

  One foote was set uppon the crocodile, 55

  And on the ground the other fast did stand,

  So meaning to suppresse both forged guile

  And open force: and in her other hand

  She stretched forth a long white sclender wand.

  Such was the goddesse; whom when Britomart 60

  Had long beheld, her selfe uppon the land

  She did prostrate, and with right humble hart,

  Unto her selfe her silent prayers did impart.

  VIII

  To which the idoll as it were inclining,

  Her wand did move with amiable looke, 65

  By outward shew her inward sence desining.

  Who well perceiving how her wand she shooke,

  It as a token of good fortune tooke.

  By this the day with dampe was overcast,

  And joyous light the house of Jove forsooke: 70

  Which when she saw, her helmet she unlaste,

  And by the altars side her selfe to slumber plaste.

  IX

  For other beds the priests there used none,

  But on their mother Earths deare lap did lie,

  And bake their sides uppon the cold hard stone, 75

  T’ enure them selves to sufferaunce thereby

  And proud rebellious flesh to mortify.

  For, by the vow of their religion,

  They tied were to stedfast chastity,

  And continence of life, that, all forgon, 80

  They mote the better tend to their devotion.

  X

  Therefore they mote not taste of fleshly food,

  Ne feed on ought the which doth bloud containe,

  Ne drinke of wine, for wine they say is blood,

  Even the bloud of gyants, which were slaine 85

  By thundring Jove in the Phlegrean plaine:

  For which the Earth (as they the story tell)

  Wroth with the gods, which to perpetuall paine

  Had damn’d her sonnes, which gainst them did rebell,

  With inward griefe and malice did against them swell. 90

  XI

  And of their vitall bloud, the which was shed

  Into her pregnant bosome, forth she brought

  The fruitfull vine, whose liquor blouddy red,

  Having the mindes of men with fury fraught,

  Mote in them stirre up old rebellious thought, 95

  To make new warre against the gods againe:

  Such is the powre of that same fruit, that nought

  The fell contagion may thereof restraine,

  Ne within reasons rule her madding mood containe.

  XII

  There did the warlike maide her selfe repose, 100

  Under the wings of Isis all that night,

  And with sweete rest her heavy eyes did close,

  After that long daies toile and weary plight.

  Where whilest her earthly parts with soft delight

  Of sencelesse sleepe did deeply drowned lie, 105

  There did appeare unto her heavenly spright

  A wondrous vision, which did close implie

  The course of all her fortune and posteritie.

  XIII

  Her seem’d, as she was doing sacrifize

  To Isis, deckt with mitre on her hed 110

  And linnen stole, after those priestes guize,

  All sodainely she saw transfigured

  Her linnen stole to robe of scarlet red,

  And moone-like mitre to a crowne of gold,

  That even she her selfe much wondered 115

  At such a chaunge, and joyed to behold

  Her selfe adorn’d with gems and jewels manifold.

  XIV

  And in the midst of her felicity,

  An hideous tempest seemed from below

  To rise through all the temple sodainely, 120

  That from the altar all about did blow

  The holy fire, and all the embers strow

  Uppon the ground, which, kindled privily,

  Into outragious flames unwares did grow,

  That all the temple put in jeopardy 125

  Of flaming, and her selfe in great perplexity.

  XV

  With that the crocodile, which sleeping lay

  Under the idols feete in fearelesse bowre,

  Seem’d to awake in horrible dismay,

  As being troubled with that stormy stowre; 130

  And gaping greedy wide, did streight devoure

  Both flames and tempest: with which growen great,

  And swolne with pride of his owne peerelesse powre,

  He gan to threaten her likewise to eat;

  But that the goddesse with her rod him backe did beat. 135

  XVI

  Tho turning all his pride to humblesse meeke,

  Him selfe before her feete he lowly threw,

  And gan for grace and love of her to seeke:

  Which she accepting, he so neare her drew,

  That of his game she soone enwombed grew, 140

  And forth did bring a lion of great might;

  That shortly did all other beasts subdew.

  With that she waked, full of fearefull fright,

  And doubtfully dismayd through that so uncouth sight.

  XVII

  So thereuppon long while she musing lay, 145

  With thousand thoughts feeding her fantasie,

  Untill she spide the lampe of lightsome day,

  Up-lifted in the porch of heaven hie.

  Then up she rose fraught with melancholy,

  And forth into the lower parts did pas; 150

  Whereas the priestes she found full busily

  About their holy things for morrow mas:

  Whom she saluting faire, faire resaluted was.

  XVIII

  But, by the change of her unchearefull looke,

  They might perceive she was not well in plight; 155

  Or that some pensivenesse to heart she tooke.

  Therefore thus one of them, who seem’d in sight

  To be the greatest and the gravest wight,

  To her bespake: ‘Sir knight, it seemes to me,

  That, thorough evill rest of this last night, 160

  Or ill apayd or much dismayd ye be,

  That by your change of chear
e is easie for to see.’

  XIX

  ‘Certes,’ sayd she, ‘sith ye so well have spide

  The troublous passion of my pensive mind,

  I will not seeke the same from you to hide, 165

  But will my cares unfolde, in hope to find

  Your aide, to guide me out of errour blind.’

  ‘Say on,’ quoth he, ‘the secret of your hart:

  For by the holy vow which me doth bind

  I am adjur’d, best counsell to impart 170

  To all that shall require my comfort in their smart.’

  XX

  Then gan she to declare the whole discourse

  Of all that vision which to her appeard,

  As well as to her minde it had recourse.

  All which when he unto the end had heard, 175

  Like to a weake faint-hearted man he fared,

  Through great astonishment of that strange sight;

  And with long locks up-standing, stifly stared

  Like one adawed with some dreadfull spright.

  So fild with heavenly fury, thus he her behight: 180

  XXI

  ‘Magnificke virgin, that in queint disguise

  Of British armes doest maske thy royall blood,

  So to pursue a perillous emprize,

  How couldst thou weene, through that disguized hood,

  To hide thy state from being understood? 185

  Can from th’ immortall gods ought hidden bee?

  They doe thy linage, and thy lordly brood,

  They doe thy sire, lamenting sore for thee,

  They doe thy love, forlorne in womens thraldome, see.

  XXII

  ‘The end whereof, and all the long event, 190

  They doe to thee in this same dreame discover.

  For that same crocodile doth represent

  The righteous knight that is thy faithfull lover,

  Like to Osyris in all just endever.

  For that same crocodile Osyris is, 195

  That under Isis feete doth sleepe for ever:

  To shew that clemence oft, in things amis,

  Restraines those sterne behests and cruell doomes of his.

  XXIII

  ‘That knight shall all the troublous stormes asswage,

  And raging flames, that many foes shall reare, 200

  To hinder thee from the just heritage

  Of thy sires crowne, and from thy countrey deare.

  Then shalt thou take him to thy loved fere,

  And joyne in equall portion of thy realme:

  And afterwards a sonne to him shalt beare, 205

  That lion-like shall shew his powre extreame.

  So blesse thee God, and give thee joyance of thy dreame.’

  XXIV

  All which when she unto the end had heard,

  She much was eased in her troublous thought,

  And on those priests bestowed rich reward: 210

  And royall gifts of gold and silver wrought

  She for a present to their goddesse brought.