Complete Works of Edmund Spenser

by Edmund Spenser

  And with his burdenous blowes him sore did overlade.

  XX

  Yet when as fit advantage he did spy,

  The whiles the cursed felon high did reare

  His cruell hand, to smite him mortally,

  Under his stroke he to him stepping neare, 175

  Right in the flanke him strooke with deadly dreare,

  That the gore bloud, thence gushing grievously,

  Did underneath him like a pond appeare,

  And all his armour did with purple dye:

  Thereat he brayed loud, and yelled dreadfully. 180

  XXI

  Yet the huge stroke, which he before intended,

  Kept on his course, as he did it direct,

  And with such monstrous poise adowne descended,

  That seemed nought could him from death protect:

  But he it well did ward with wise respect, 185

  And twixt him and the blow his shield did cast,

  Which thereon seizing, tooke no great effect,

  But byting deepe therein did sticke so fast,

  That by no meanes it backe againe he forth could wrast.

  XXII

  Long while he tug’d and strove, to get it out, 190

  And all his powre applyed thereunto,

  That he therewith the knight drew all about:

  Nathlesse, for all that ever he could doe,

  His axe he could not from his shield undoe.

  Which Artegall perceiving, strooke no more, 195

  But loosing soone his shield, did it forgoe,

  And whiles he combred was therewith so sore,

  He gan at him let drive more fiercely then afore.

  XXIII

  So well he him pursew’d, that at the last

  He stroke him with Chrysaor on the hed, 200

  That with the souse thereof full sore aghast,

  He staggered to and fro in doubtfull sted.

  Againe, whiles he him saw so ill bested,

  He did him smite with all his might and maine,

  That, falling, on his mother earth he fed: 205

  Whom when he saw prostrated on the plaine,

  He lightly reft his head, to ease him of his paine.

  XXIV

  Which when the people round about him saw,

  They shouted all for joy of his successe,

  Glad to be quit from that proud tyrants awe, 210

  Which with strong powre did them long time oppresse;

  And running all with greedie joyfulnesse

  To faire Irena, at her feet did fall,

  And her adored with due humblenesse,

  As their true liege and princesse naturall; 215

  And eke her champions glorie sounded over all.

  XXV

  Who streight her leading with meete majestie

  Unto the pallace, where their kings did rayne,

  Did her therein establish peaceablie,

  And to her kingdomes seat restore agayne. 220

  And all such persons as did late maintayne

  That tyrants part, with close or open ayde,

  He sorely punished with heavie payne;

  That in short space, whiles there with her he stayd,

  Not one was left that durst her once have disobayd. 225

  XXVI

  During which time that he did there remaine,

  His studie was true justice how to deale,

  And day and night employ’d his busie paine

  How to reforme that ragged common-weale:

  And that same yron man, which could reveale 230

  All hidden crimes, through all that realme he sent,

  To search out those that usd to rob and steale,

  Or did rebell gainst lawfull government;

  On whom he did inflict most grievous punishment.

  XXVII

  But ere he could reforme it thoroughly, 235

  He through occasion called was away

  To Faerie court, that of necessity

  His course of justice he was forst to stay,

  And Talus to revoke from the right way,

  In which he was that realme for to redresse. 240

  But envies cloud still dimmeth vertues ray.

  So having freed Irena from distresse,

  He tooke his leave of her, there left in heavinesse.

  XXVIII

  Tho, as he backe returned from that land,

  And there arriv’d againe, whence forth he set, 245

  He had not passed farre upon the strand,

  When as two old ill favour’d hags he met,

  By the way side being together set;

  Two griesly creatures; and, to that their faces

  Most foule and filthie were, their garments yet, 250

  Being all rag’d and tatter’d, their disgraces

  Did much the more augment, and made most ugly cases.

  XXIX

  The one of them, that elder did appeare,

  With her dull eyes did seeme to looke askew,

  That her mis-shape much helpt; and her foule heare 255

  Hung loose and loathsomely: thereto her hew

  Was wan and leane, that all her teeth arew

  And all her bones might through her cheekes be red;

  Her lips were like raw lether, pale and blew,

  And as she spake, therewith she slavered; 260

  Yet spake she seldom, but thought more, the lesse she sed.

  XXX

  Her hands were foule and durtie, never washt

  In all her life, with long nayles over raught,

  Like puttocks clawes: with th’ one of which she scracht

  Her cursed head, although it itched naught; 265

  The other held a snake with venime fraught,

  On which she fed and gnawed hungrily,

  As if that long she had not eaten ought;

  That round about her jawes one might descry

  The bloudie gore and poyson dropping lothsomely. 270

  XXXI

  Her name was Envie, knowen well thereby;

  Whose nature is to grieve and grudge at all

  That ever she sees doen prays-worthily,

  Whose sight to her is greatest crosse may fall,

  And vexeth so, that makes her eat her gall. 275

  For when she wanteth other thing to eat,

  She feedes on her owne maw unnaturall,

  And of her owne foule entrayles makes her meat;

  Meat fit for such a monsters monsterous dyeat.

  XXXII

  And if she hapt of any good to heare, 280

  That had to any happily betid,

  Then would she inly fret, and grieve, and teare

  Her flesh for felnesse, which she inward hid:

  But if she heard of ill that any did,

  Or harme that any had, then would she make 285

  Great cheare, like one unto a banquet bid;

  And in anothers losse great pleasure take,

  As she had got thereby, and gayned a great stake.

  XXXIII

  The other nothing better was then shee;

  Agreeing in bad will and cancred kynd, 290

  But in bad maner they did disagree:

  For what so Envie good or bad did fynd

  She did conceale, and murder her owne mynd;

  But this, what ever evill she conceived,

  Did spred abroad, and throw in th’ open wynd. 295

  Yet this in all her words might be perceived,

  That all she sought was mens good name to have bereaved.

  XXXIV

  For what soever good by any sayd

  Or doen she heard, she would streightwayes invent

  How to deprave, or slaunderously upbrayd, 300

  Or to misconstrue of a mans intent,

  And turne to ill the thing that well was ment.

  Therefore she used often to resort

  To common haunts, and companies frequent,

  To hearke what any one did good r
eport, 305

  To blot the same with blame, or wrest in wicked sort.

  XXXV

  And if that any ill she heard of any,

  She would it eeke, and make much worse by telling,

  And take great joy to publish it to many,

  That every matter worse was for her melling. 310

  Her name was hight Detraction, and her dwelling

  Was neare to Envie, even her neighbour next;

  A wicked hag, and Envy selfe excelling

  In mischiefe: for her selfe she onely vext;

  But this same both her selfe and others eke perplext. 315

  XXXVI

  Her face was ugly, and her mouth distort,

  Foming with poyson round about her gils,

  In which her cursed tongue full sharpe and short

  Appear’d like aspis sting, that closely kils,

  Or cruelly does wound, whom so she wils: 320

  A distaffe in her other hand she had,

  Upon the which she litle spinnes, but spils,

  And faynes to weave false tales and leasings bad,

  To throw amongst the good, which others had disprad.

  XXXVII

  These two now had themselves combynd in one, 325

  And linckt together gainst Sir Artegall,

  For whom they wayted as his mortall fone,

  How they might make him into mischiefe fall,

  For freeing from their snares Irena thrall:

  Besides, unto themselves they gotten had 330

  A monster, which the Blatant Beast men call,

  A dreadfull feend, of gods and men ydrad,

  Whom they by slights allur’d, and to their purpose lad.

  XXXVIII

  Such were these hags, and so unhandsome drest:

  Who when they nigh approching had espyde 335

  Sir Artegall, return’d from his late quest,

  They both arose, and at him loudly cryde,

  As it had bene two shepheards curres had scryde

  A ravenous wolfe amongst the scattered flocks.

  And Envie first, as she that first him eyde, 340

  Towardes him runs, and with rude flaring lockes

  About her eares, does beat her brest and forhead knockes.

  XXXIX

  Then from her mouth the gobbet she does take,

  The which whyleare she was so greedily

  Devouring, even that halfe-gnawen snake, 345

  And at him throwes it most despightfully.

  The cursed serpent, though she hungrily

  Earst chawd thereon, yet was not all so dead,

  But that some life remayned secretly,

  And as he past afore withouten dread, 350

  Bit him behind, that long the marke was to be read.

  XL

  Then th’ other comming neare, gan him revile

  And fouly rayle, with all she could invent;

  Saying that he had with unmanly guile

  And foule abusion both his honour blent, 355

  And that bright sword, the sword of Justice lent,

  Had stayned with reprochfull crueltie

  In guiltlesse blood of many an innocent:

  As for Grandtorto, him with treacherie

  And traynes having surpriz’d, he fouly did to die. 360

  XLI

  Thereto the Blatant Beast, by them set on,

  At him began aloud to barke and bay,

  With bitter rage and fell contention,

  That all the woods and rockes nigh to that way

  Began to quake and tremble with dismay, 365

  And all the aire rebellowed againe,

  So dreadfully his hundred tongues did bray:

  And evermore those hags them selves did paine

  To sharpen him, and their owne cursed tongs did straine.

  XLII

  And still among, most bitter wordes they spake, 370

  Most shamefull, most unrighteous, most untrew,

  That they the mildest man alive would make

  Forget his patience, and yeeld vengeaunce dew

  To her, that so false sclaunders at him threw.

  And more to make them pierce and wound more deepe, 375

  She with the sting which in her vile tongue grew

  Did sharpen them, and in fresh poyson steepe:

  Yet he past on, and seem’d of them to take no keepe.

  XLIII

  But Talus, hearing her so lewdly raile,

  And speake so ill of him that well deserved, 380

  Would her have chastiz’d with his yron flaile,

  If her Sir Artegall had not preserved,

  And him forbidden, who his heast observed.

  So much the more at him still did she scold,

  And stones did cast; yet he for nought would swerve 385

  From his right course, but still the way did hold

  To Faery court, where what him fell shall else be told.

  Faerie Queene Detailed Table of Contents

  Glossary for ‘The Faerie Queene’

  Faerie Queene: Book VI. The Legend of Sir Calidore

  Faerie Queene Detailed Table of Contents

  Glossary for ‘The Faerie Queene’

  Canto I

  THE SIXTE BOOKE

  OF THE FAERIE QUEENE

  CONTAYNING

  THE LEGEND OF SIR CALIDORE

  OR

  OF COURTESIE

  I

  THE WAIES, through which my weary steps I guyde,

  In this delightfull land of Faery,

  Are so exceeding spacious and wyde,

  And sprinckled with such sweet variety

  Of all that pleasant is to eare or eye, 5

  That I, nigh ravisht with rare thoughts delight,

  My tedious travell doe forget thereby;

  And when I gin to feele decay of might,

  It strength to me supplies, and chears my dulled spright.

  II

  Such secret comfort and such heavenly pleasures, 10

  Ye sacred imps, that on Parnasso dwell,

  And there the keeping have of learnings threasures,

  Which doe all worldly riches farre excell,

  Into the mindes of mortall men doe well,

  And goodly fury into them infuse; 15

  Guyde ye my footing, and conduct me well

  In these strange waies, where never foote did use,

  Ne none can find, but who was taught them by the Muse.

  III

  Revele to me the sacred noursery

  Of Vertue, which with you doth there remaine, 20

  Where it in silver bowre does hidden ly

  From view of men, and wicked worlds disdaine;

  Since it at first was by the gods with paine

  Planted in earth, being deriv’d at furst

  From heavenly seedes of bounty soveraine, 25

  And by them long with carefull labour nurst,

  Till it to ripenesse grew, and forth to honour burst.

  IV

  Amongst them all growes not a fayrer flowre,

  Then is the bloosme of comely Courtesie,

  Which, though it on a lowly stalke doe bowre, 30

  Yet brancheth forth in brave nobilitie,

  And spreds it selfe through all civilitie:

  Of which though present age doe plenteous seeme,

  Yet, being matcht with plaine antiquitie,

  Ye will them all but fayned showes esteeme, 35

  Which carry colours faire, that feeble eies misdeeme.

  V

  But in the triall of true Curtesie,

  Its now so farre from that which then it was,

  That it indeed is nought but forgerie,

  Fashion’d to please the eies of them that pas, 40

  Which see not perfect things but in a glas:

  Yet is that glasse so gay that it can blynd

  The wisest sight, to thinke gold that is bras.

  But Vertues seat is deepe within the mynd,
/>
  And not in outward shows, but inward thoughts defynd. 45

  VI

  But where shall I in all antiquity

  So faire a patterne finde, where may be seene

  The goodly praise of princely Curtesie,

  As in your selfe, O soveraine Lady Queene?

  In whose pure minde, as in a mirrour sheene, 50

  It showes, and with her brightnesse doth inflame

  The eyes of all which thereon fixed beene;

  But meriteth indeede an higher name:

  Yet so from low to high uplifted is your fame.

  VII

  Then pardon me, most dreaded Soveraine, 55

  That from your selfe I doe this vertue bring,

  And to your selfe doe it returne againe:

  So from the ocean all rivers spring,

  And tribute backe repay as to their king:

  Right so from you all goodly vertues well 60

  Into the rest which round about you ring,

  Faire lords and ladies, which about you dwell,

  And doe adorne your court, where courtesies excell.

  CANTO I

  Calidore saves from Maleffort

  A damzell used vylde:

  Doth vanquish Crudor, and doth make

  Briana wexe more mylde.

  I

  OF Court, it seemes, men Courtesie doe call,

  For that it there most useth to abound; 65

  And well beseemeth that in princes hall

  That vertue should be plentifully found,

  Which of all goodly manners is the ground,

  And roote of civill conversation.

  Right so in Faery court it did redound, 70

  Where curteous knights and ladies most did won

  Of all on earth, and made a matchlesse paragon.

  II

  But mongst them all was none more courteous knight

  Then Calidore, beloved over all:

  In whom it seemes that gentlenesse of spright 75

  And manners mylde were planted naturall;

  To which he adding comely guize withall,

  And gracious speach, did steale mens hearts away.

  Nathlesse thereto he was full stout and tall,

  And well approv’d in batteilous affray, 80

  That him did much renowme, and far his fame display.

  III

  Ne was there knight, ne was there lady found

  In Faery court, but him did deare embrace

  For his faire usage and conditions sound,

  The which in all mens liking gayned place, 85

  And with the greatest purchast greatest grace:

  Which he could wisely use, and well apply,

  To please the best, and th’ evill to embase:

  For he loathd leasing and base flattery,

  And loved simple truth and stedfast honesty. 90

  IV

  And now he was in travell on his way,

  Uppon an hard adventure sore bestad,