Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE FAERIE QUEENE: BOOK 5, CANTOS 7-9, by EDMUND SPENSER


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE FAERIE QUEENE: BOOK 5, CANTOS 7-9, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Britomart comes to isis church
Last Line: Would have the passion hid, and up arose withall.
Alternate Author Name(s): Clout, Colin


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
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,
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 Egyptian kings, that whylome were;
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,
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
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,
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:
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
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.

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.
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,
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
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,
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:
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,
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,
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
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.

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,
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,
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,
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
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
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,
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
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;
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.

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,
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,
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;
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;
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,
Or ill apayd or much dismayd ye be,
That by your change of cheare 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,
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
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,
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:

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?
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,
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,
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,
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,
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:
And royall gifts of gold and silver wrought
She for a present to their goddesse brought.
Then taking leave of them, she forward went,
To seeke her love, where he was to be sought;
Ne rested till she came without relent
Unto the land of Amazons, as she was bent.

XXV

Whereof when newes to Radigund was brought,
Not with amaze, as women wonted bee,
She was confused in her troublous thought,
But fild with courage and with joyous glee,
As glad to heare of armes, the which now she
Had long surceast, she bas to open bold,
That she the face of her new foe might see.
But when they of that yron man had told,
Which late her folke had slaine, she bad them forth to hold.

XXVI

So there without the gate (as seemed best)
She caused her pavilion be pight;
In which stout Britomart her selfe did rest,
Whiles Talus watched at the dore all night.
All night likewise, they of the towne in fright
Uppon their wall good watch and ward did keepe.
The morrow next, so soone as dawning light
Bad doe away the dampe of drouzie sleepe,
The warlike Amazon out of her bowre did peepe;

XXVII

And caused streight a trumpet loud to shrill,
To warne her foe to battell soone be prest:
Who, long before awoke, (for she ful ill
Could sleepe all night, that in unquiet brest
Did closely harbour such a jealous guest)
Was to the battell whilome ready dight.
Eftsoones that warriouresse with haughty crest
Did forth issue, all ready for the fight:
On th' other side her foe appeared soone in sight.

XXVIII

But ere they reared hand, the Amazone
Began the streight conditions to propound,
With which she used still to tye her fone:
To serve her so, as she the rest had bound.
Which when the other heard, she sternly frownd
For high disdaine of such indignity,
And would no lenger treat, but bad them sound.
For her no other termes should ever tie,
Then what prescribed were by lawes of chevalrie.

XXIX

The trumpets sound, and they together run
With greedy rage, and with their faulchins smot;
Ne either sought the others strokes to shun,
But through great fury both their skill forgot,
And practicke use in armes: ne spared not
Their dainty parts, which Nature had created
So faire and tender, without staine or spot,
For other uses then they them translated;
Which they now hackt and hewd, as if such use they hated.

XXX

As when a tygre and a lionesse
Are met at spoyling of some hungry pray,
Both challenge it with equall greedinesse:
But first the tygre clawes thereon did lay;
And therefore loth to loose her right away,
Doth in defence thereof full stoutly stond:
To which the lion strongly doth gainesay,
That she to hunt the beast first tooke in hond;
And therefore ought it have, where ever she it fond.

XXXI

Full fiercely layde the Amazon about,
And dealt her blowes unmercifully sore:
Which Britomart withstood with courage stout,
And them repaide againe with double more.
So long they fought, that all the grassie flore
Was fild with bloud, which from their sides did flow,
And gushed through their armes, that all in gore
They trode, and on the ground their lives did strow,
Like fruitles seede, of which untimely death should grow.

XXXII

At last proud Radigund with fell despight,
Having by chaunce espide advantage neare,
Let drive at her with all her dreadfull might,
And thus upbrayding said: 'This token beare
Unto the man whom thou doest love so deare;
And tell him for his sake thy life thou gavest.'
Which spitefull words she sore engriev'd to heare,
Thus answer'd: 'Lewdly thou my love depravest,
Who shortly must repent that now so vainely bravest.'

XXXIII

Nath'lesse that stroke so cruell passage found,
That, glauncing on her shoulder plate, it bit
Unto the bone, and made a griesly wound,
That she her shield through raging smart of it
Could scarse uphold; yet soone she it requit:
For having force increast through furious paine,
She her so rudely on the helmet smit,
That it empierced to the very braine,
And her proud person low prostrated on the plaine.

XXXIV

Where being layd, the wrothfull Britonesse
Stayd not till she came to her selfe againe,
But in revenge both of her loves distresse,
And her late vile reproch, though vaunted vaine,
And also of her wound, which sore did paine,
She with one stroke both head and helmet cleft.
Which dreadfull sight when all her warlike traine
There present saw, each one, of sence bereft,
Fled fast into the towne, and her sole victor left.

XXXV

But yet so fast they could not home retrate,
But that swift Talus did the formost win;
And pressing through the preace unto the gate,
Pelmell with them attonce did enter in.
There then a piteous slaughter did begin:
For all that ever came within his reach
He with his yron flale did thresh so thin,
That he no worke at all left for the leach:
Like to an hideous storme, which nothing may empeach.

XXXVI

And now by this the noble conqueresse
her selfe came in, her glory to partake;
Where, though revengefull vow she did professe,
Yet when she saw the heapes which he did make
Of slaughtred carkasses, her heart did quake
For very ruth, which did it almost rive,
That she his fury willed him to slake:
For else he sure had left not one alive,
But all, in his revenge, of spirite would deprive.

XXXVII

Tho, when she had his execution stayd,
She for that yron prison did enquire,
In which her wretched love was captive layd:
Which breaking open with indignant ire,
She entred into all the partes entire:
Where when she saw that lothly uncouth sight,
Of men disguiz'd in womanishe attire,
Her heart gan grudge, for very deepe despight
Of so unmanly maske, in misery misdight.

XXXVIII

At last when as to her owne love she came,
Whom like disguize no lesse deformed had,
At sight thereof abasht with secrete shame,
She turnd her head aside, as nothing glad
To have beheld a spectacle so bad.
And then too well beleev'd that which tofore
Jealous suspect as true untruely drad:
Which vaine conceipt now nourishing no more,
She sought with ruth to salve his sad misfortunes sore.

XXXIX

Not so great wonder and astonishment
Did the most chast Penelope possesse,
To see her lord, that was reported drent,
And dead long since in dolorous distresse,
Come home to her in piteous wretchednesse,
After long travell of full twenty yeares,
That she knew not his favours likelynesse,
For many scarres and many hoary heares,
But stood long staring on him, mongst uncertaine feares.

XL

'Ah! my deare lord, what sight is this?' quoth she;
'What May-game hath misfortune made of you?
Where is that dreadfull manly looke? where be
Those mighty palmes, the which ye wont t' embrew
In bloud of kings, and great hoastes to subdew?
Could ought on earth so wondrous change have wrought,
As to have robde you of that manly hew?
Could so great courage stouped have to ought?
Then farewell, fleshly force; I see thy pride is nought.'

XLI

Thenceforth she streight into a bowre him brought,
And causd him those uncomely weedes undight,
And in their steede for other rayment sought,
Whereof there was great store, and armors bright,
Which had bene reft from many a noble knight;
Whom that proud Amazon subdewed had,
Whilest fortune favourd her successe in fight:
In which when as she him anew had clad,
She was reviv'd, and joyd much in his semblance glad.

XLII

So there a while they afterwards remained,
Him to refresh, and her late wounds to heale:
During which space she there as princes rained,
And changing all that forme of common weale,
The liberty of women did repeale,
Which they had long usurpt; and them restoring
To mens subjection, did true justice deale:
That all they, as a goddesse her adoring,
Her wisedome did admire, and hearkned to her loring.

XLIII

For all those knights, which long in captive shade
Had shrowded bene, she did from thraldome free,
And magistrates of all that city made,
And gave to them great living and large fee:
And that they should for ever faithfull bee,
Made them sweare fealty to Artegall:
Who when him selfe now well recur'd did see,
He purposd to proceed, what so be fall,
Uppon his first adventure, which him forth did call.

XLIV

Full sad and sorrowfull was Britomart
For his departure, her new cause of griefe;
Yet wisely moderated her owne smart,
Seeing his honor, which she tendred chiefe,
Consisted much in that adventures priefe.
The care whereof, and hope of his successe,
Gave unto her great comfort and reliefe,
That womanish complaints she did represse,
And tempred for the time her present heavinesse.

XLV

There she continu'd for a certaine space,
Till through his want her woe did more increase:
Then, hoping that the change of aire and place
Would change her paine, and sorrow somewhat ease,
She parted thence, her anguish to appease.
Meane while her noble lord, Sir Artegall,
Went on his way, ne ever howre did cease,
Till he redeemed had that lady thrall:
That for another canto will more fitly fall.

CANTO VIII

Prince Arthure and Sir Artegall
Free Samient from feare:
They slay the Soudan, drive his wife
Adicia to despaire.

I

NOUGHT under heaven so strongly doth allure
The sence of man, and all his minde possesse,
As beauties lovely baite, that doth procure
Great warriours oft their rigour to represse,
And mighty hands forget their manlinesse;
Drawne with the powre of an heart-robbing eye,
And wrapt in fetters of a golden tresse,
That can with melting pleasaunce mollifye
Their hardned hearts, enur'd to bloud and cruelty.

II

So whylome learnd that mighty Jewish swaine,
Each of whose lockes did match a man in might,
To lay his spoiles before his lemans traine:
So also did that great Oetean knight
For his loves sake his lions skin undight:
And so did warlike Antony neglect
The worlds whole rule for Cleopatras sight.
Such wondrous powre hath wemens faire aspect,
To captive men, and make them all the world reject.

III

Yet could it not sterne Artegall retaine,
Nor hold from suite of his avowed quest,
Which he had undertane to Gloriane;
But left his love, albe her strong request,
Faire Britomart, in languor and unrest,
And rode him selfe uppon his first intent:
Ne day nor night did ever idly rest;
ne wight but onely Talus with him went,
The true guide of his way and vertuous government.

IV

So travelling, he chaunst far off to heed
A damzell, flying on a palfrey fast
Before two knights, that after her did speed
With all their powre, and her full fiercely chast
In hope to have her overhent at last:
Yet fled she fast, and both them farre outwent,
Carried with wings of feare, like fowle aghast,
With locks all loose, and rayment all torent;
And ever as she rode, her eye was backeward bent.

V

Soone after these he saw another knight,
That after those two former rode apace,
With speare in rest, and prickt with all his might:
So ran they all, as they had bene at bace,
They being chased, that did others chase.
At length he saw the hindmost overtake
One of those two, and force him turne his face;
How ever loth he were his way to slake,
Yet mote he algates now abide, and answere make.

VI

But th' other still pursu'd the fearefull mayd;
Who still from him as fast away did flie,
Ne once for ought her speedy passage stayd,
Till that at length she did before her spie
Sir Artegall, to whom she streight did hie
With gladfull hast, in hope of him to get
Succour against her greedy enimy:
Who, seeing her approch, gan forward set,
To save her from her feare, and him from force to let.

VII

But he like hound full greedy of his pray,
Being impatient of impediment,
Continu'd still his course, and by the way
Thought with his speare him quight have overwent.
So both together, ylike felly bent,
Like fiercely met. But Artegall was stronger,
And better skild in tilt and turnament,
And bore him quite out of his saddle, longer
Then two speares length: so mischiefe overmatcht the wronger.

VIII

And in his fall misfortune him mistooke;
For on his head unhappily he pight,
That his owne waight his necke asunder broke,
And left there dead. Meane while the other knight
Defeated had the other faytour quight,
And all his bowels in his body brast:
Whom leaving there in that dispiteous plight,
He ran still on, thinking to follow fast
His other fellow Pagan, which before him past.

IX

In stead of whom finding there ready prest
Sir Artegall, without discretion
He at him ran, with ready speare in rest:
Who, seeing him come still so fiercely on,
Against him made againe. So both anon
Together met, and strongly either strooke
And broke their speares; yet neither has forgon
His horses backe, yet to and fro long shooke,
And tottred like two towres, which through a tempest quooke.

X

But when againe they had recovered sence,
They drew their swords, in mind to make amends
For what their speares had fayld of their pretence.
Which when the damzell, who those deadly ends
Of both her foes had seene, and now her frends
For her beginning a more fearefull fray,
She to them runnes in hast, and her haire rends,
Crying to them their cruell hands to stay,
Untill they both doe heare what she to them will say.

XI

They stayd their hands, when she thus gan to speake:
'Ah! gentle knights, what meane ye thus unwise
Upon your selves anothers wrong to wreake?
I am the wrong'd, whom ye did enterprise
Both to redresse, and both redrest likewise:
Witnesse the Paynims both, whom ye may see
There dead on ground. What doe ye then devise
Of more revenge? if more, then I am shee
Which was the roote of all; end your revenge on mee.'

XII

Whom when they heard so say, they lookt about,
To weete if it were true, as she had told;
Where when they saw their foes dead out of doubt,
Eftsoones they gan their wrothfull hands to hold,
And ventailes reare, each other to behold.
Tho, when as Artegall did Arthure vew,
So faire a creature, and so wondrous bold,
He much admired both his heart and hew,
And touched with intire affection, nigh him drew,

XIII

Saying: 'Sir knight, of pardon I you pray,
That all unweeting have you wrong'd thus sore,
Suffring my hand against my heart to stray:
Which if ye please forgive, I will therefore
Yeeld for amends my selfe yours evermore,
Or what so penaunce shall by you be red.'
To whom the Prince: 'Certes, me needeth more
To crave the same, whom errour so misled,
As that I did mistake the living for the ded.

XIV

'But sith ye please that both our blames shall die,
Amends may for the trespasse soone be made,
Since neither is endamadg'd much thereby.'
So can they both them selves full eath perswade
To faire accordaunce, and both faults to shade,
Either embracing other lovingly,
And swearing faith to either on his blade,
Never thenceforth to nourish enmity,
But either others cause to maintaine mutually.

XV

Then Artegall gan of the Prince enquire,
What were those knights, which there on ground were layd,
And had receiv'd their follies worthy hire,
And for what cause they chased so that mayd.
'Certes, I wote not well,' the Prince then sayd,
'But by adventure found them faring so,
As by the way unweetingly I strayd,
And lo the damzell selfe, whence all did grow,
Of whom we may at will the whole occasion know.'

XVI

Then they that damzell called to them nie,
And asked her, what were those two her fone,
From whom she earst so fast away did flie;
And what was she her selfe so woe begone,
And for what cause pursu'd of them attone.
To whom she thus: 'Then wote ye well, that I
Doe serve a queene, that not far hence doth wone,
A princesse of great powre and majestie,
Famous through all the world, and honor'd far and nie.

XVII

'Her name Mercilla most men use to call;
That is a mayden queene of high renowne,
For her great bounty knowen over all,
And soveraine grace, with which her royall crowne
She doth support, and strongly beateth downe
The malice of her foes, which her envy,
And at her happinesse do fret and frowne:
Yet she her selfe the more doth magnify,
And even to her foes her mercies multiply.

XVIII

'Mongst many which maligne her happy state,
There is a mighty man, which wonnes here by,
That with most fell despight and deadly hate
Seekes to subvert her crowne and dignity,
And all his powre doth thereunto apply:
And her good knights, of which so brave a band
Serves her as any princesse under sky,
He either spoiles, if they against him stand,
Or to his part allures, and bribeth under hand.

XIX

'Ne him sufficeth all the wrong and ill,
Which he unto her people does each day,
But that he seekes by traytrous traines to spill
Her person, and her sacred selfe to slay:
That, O ye heavens, defend, and turne away
From her unto the miscreant him selfe,
That neither hath religion nor fay,
But makes his god of his ungodly pelfe,
And idols serves; so let his idols serve the elfe.

XX

'To all which cruell tyranny, they say,
He is provokt, and stird up day and night
By his bad wife, that hight Adicia,
Who counsels him, through confidence of might,
To breake all bonds of law and rules of right.
For she her selfe professeth mortall foe
To Justice, and against her still doth fight,
Working to all that love her deadly woe,
And making all her knights and people to doe so.

XXI

'Which my liege lady seeing, thought it best,
With that his wife in friendly wise to deale,
For stint of strife and stablishment of rest
Both to her selfe and to her common weale,
And all forepast displeasures to repeale.
So me in message unto her she sent,
To treat with her, by way of enterdeale,
Of finall peace and faire attonement,
Which might concluded be by mutuall consent.

XXII

'All times have wont safe passage to afford
To messengers that come for causes just:
But this proude dame, disdayning all accord,
Not onely into bitter termes forth brust,
Reviling me, and rayling as she lust,
But lastly, to make proofe of utmost shame,
Me like a dog she out of dores did thrust,
Miscalling me by many a bitter name,
That never did her ill, ne once deserved blame.

XXIII

'And lastly, that no shame might wanting be,
When I was gone, soone after me she sent
These two false knights, whom there ye lying see,
To be by them dishonoured and shent;
But thankt be God, and your good hardiment,
They have the price of their owne folly payd.'
So said this damzell, that hight Samient,
And to those knights, for their so noble ayd,
Her selfe most gratefull shew'd, and heaped thanks repayd.

XXIV

But they now having throughly heard, and seene
Al those great wrongs, the which that mayd complained
To have bene done against her lady queene
By that proud dame, which her so much disdained,
Were moved much thereat, and twixt them fained
With all their force to worke avengement strong
Uppon the Souldan selfe, which it mayntained,
And on his lady, th' author of that wrong,
And uppon all those knights that did to her belong.

XXV

But thinking best by counterfet disguise
To their deseigne to make the easier way,
They did this complot twixt them selves devise:
First, that Sir Artegall should him array
Like one of those two knights which dead there lay;
And then that damzell, the sad Samient,
Should as his purchast prize with him convay
Unto the Souldans court, her to present
Unto his scornefull lady, that for her had sent.

XXVI

So as they had deviz'd, Sir Artegall
Him clad in th' armour of a pagan knight,
And taking with him, as his vanquisht thrall,
That damzell, led her to the Souldans right.
Where soone as his proud wife of her had sight,
Forth of her window as she looking lay,
She weened streight it was her Paynim knight,
Which brought that damzell as his purchast pray;
And sent to him a page, that mote direct his way.

XXVII

Who bringing them to their appointed place,
Offred his service to disarme the knight;
But he refusing him to let unlace,
For doubt to be discovered by his sight,
Kept himselfe still in his straunge armour dight.
Soone after whom the Prince arrived there,
And sending to the Souldan in despight
A bold defyance, did of him requere
That damzell, whom he held as wrongfull prisonere.

XXVIII

Wherewith the Souldan all with furie fraught,
Swearing and banning most blasphemously,
Commaunded straight his armour to be brought,
And mounting straight upon a charret hye,
(With yron wheeles and hookes arm'd dreadfully,
And drawne of cruell steedes, which he had fed
With flesh of men, whom through fell tyranny
He slaughtred had, and ere they were halfe ded,
Their bodies to his beasts for provender did spred,)

XXIX

So forth he came, all in a cote of plate,
Burnisht with bloudie rust; whiles on the greene
The Briton Prince him readie did awayte,
In glistering armes right goodly well beseene,
That shone as bright as doth the heaven sheene;
And by his stirrup Talus did attend,
Playing his pages part, as he had beene
Before directed by his lord; to th' end
He should his flale to finall execution bend.

XXX

Thus goe they both together to their geare,
With like fierce minds, but meanings different:
For the proud Souldan, with presumpteous cheare,
And countenance sublime and insolent,
Sought onely slaughter and avengement:
But the brave Prince for honour and for right,
Gainst tortious powre and lawlesse regiment,
In the behalfe of wronged weake did fight:
More in his causes truth he trusted then in might.

XXXI

Like to the Thracian tyrant, who, they say,
Unto his horses gave his guests for meat,
Till he himselfe was made their greedie pray,
And torne in peeces by Alcides great:
So thought the Souldan in his follies threat,
Either the Prince in peeces to have torne
With his sharpe wheeles, in his first rages heat,
Or under his fierce horses feet have borne,
And trampled downe in dust his thoughts disdained scorne.

XXXII

But the bold child that perill well espying,
If he too rashly to his charet drew,
Gave way unto his horses speedie flying,
And their resistlesse rigour did eschew.
Yet, as he passed by, the Pagan threw
A shivering dart with so impetuous force,
That, had he not it shun'd with heedfull vew,
It had himselfe transfixed, or his horse,
Or made them both one masse withouten more remorse.

XXXIII

Oft drew the Prince unto his charret nigh,
In hope some stroke to fasten on him neare;
But he was mounted in his seat so high,
And his wingfooted coursers him did beare
So fast away, that ere his readie speare
He could advance, he farre was gone and past.
Yet still he him did follow every where,
And followed was of him likewise full fast,
So long as in his steedes the flaming breath did last.

XXXIV

Againe the Pagan threw another dart,
Of which he had with him abundant store,
On every side of his embatteld cart,
And of all other weapons lesse or more,
Which warlike uses had deviz'd of yore.
The wicked shaft, guyded through th' ayrie wyde
By some bad spirit, that it to mischiefe bore,
Stayd not, till through his curat it did glyde,
And made a griesly wound in his enriven side.

XXXV

Much was he grieved with that haplesse throe,
That opened had the welspring of his blood;
But much the more that to his hatefull foe
He mote not come, to wreake his wrathfull mood.
That made him rave, like to a lyon wood,
Which, being wounded of the huntsmans hand,
Can not come neare him in the covert wood,
Where he with boughes hath built his shady stand,
And fenst himselfe about with many a flaming brand.

XXXVI

Still when he sought t' approch unto him ny,
His charret wheeles about him whirled round,
And made him backe againe as fast to fly;
And eke his steedes, like to an hungry hound,
That hunting after game hath carrion found,
So cruelly did him pursew and chace,
That his good steed, all were he much renound
For noble courage and for hardie race,
Durst not endure their sight, but fled from place to place.

XXXVII

Thus long they trast and traverst to and fro,
Seeking by every way to make some breach,
Yet could the Prince not nigh unto him goe,
That one sure stroke he might unto him reach,
Whereby his strengthes assay he might him teach.
At last from his victorious shield he drew
The vaile which did his powrefull light empeach;
And comming full before his horses vew,
As they upon him prest, it plaine to them did shew.

XXXVIII

Like lightening flash, that hath the gazer burned,
So did the sight thereof their sense dismay,
That backe againe upon themselves they turned,
And with their ryder ranne perforce away:
Ne could the Souldan them from flying stay
With raynes, or wonted rule, as well he knew.
Nought feared they what he could do or say,
But th' onely feare that was before their vew;
From which, like mazed deare, dismayfully they flew.

XXXIX

Fast did they fly as them their feete could beare,
High over hilles, and lowly over dales,
As they were follow'd of their former feare.
In vaine the Pagan bannes, and sweares, and rayles,
And backe with both his hands unto him hayles
The resty raynes, regarded now no more:
He to them calles and speakes, yet nought avayles;
They heare him not, they have forgot his lore,
But go which way they list; their guide they have forlore.

XL

As when the firie-mouthed steeds, which drew
The sunnes bright wayne to Phaetons decay,
Soone as they did the monstrous Scorpion vew,
With ugly craples crawling in their way,
The dreadfull sight did them so sore affray,
That their well knowen courses they forwent,
And leading th' ever-burning lampe astray,
This lower world nigh all to ashes brent,
And left their scorched path yet in the firmament.

XLI

Such was the furie of these head-strong steeds,
Soone as the infants sunlike shield they saw,
That all obedience both to words and deeds
They quite forgot, and scornd all former law:
Through woods, and rocks, and mountaines they did draw
The yron charet, and the wheeles did teare,
And tost the Paynim, without feare or awe;
From side to side they tost him here and there,
Crying to them in vaine, that nould his crying heare.

XLII

Yet still the Prince pursew'd him close behind,
Oft making offer him to smite, but found
No easie meanes according to his mind.
At last they have all overthrowne to ground,
Quite topside turvey, and the Pagan hound
Amongst the yron hookes and graples keene
Torne all to rags, and rent with many a wound,
That no whole peece of him was to be seene,
But scattred all about, and strow'd upon the greene.

XLIII

Like as the cursed sonne of Theseus,
That, following his chace in dewy morne,
To fly his stepdames loves outrageous,
Of his owne steedes was all to peeces torne,
And his faire limbs left in the woods forlorne;
That for his sake Diana did lament,
And all the wooddy nymphes did wayle and mourne:
So was this Souldan rapt and all to-rent,
That of his shape appear'd no litle moniment

XLIV

Onely his shield and armour, which there lay,
Though nothing whole, but all to-brusd and broken,
He up did take, and with him brought away,
That mote remaine for an eternall token
To all mongst whom this storie should be spoken,
How worthily, by Heavens high decree,
Justice that day of wrong her selfe had wroken,
That all men which that spectacle did see,
By like ensample mote for ever warned bee.

XLV

So on a tree, before the tyrants dore,
He caused them be hung in all mens sight,
To be a moniment for evermore.
Which when his ladie from the castles hight
Beheld, it much appald her troubled spright:
Yet not, as women wont, in dolefull fit
She was dismayd, or faynted through affright,
But gathered unto her her troubled wit,
And gan eftsoones devize to be aveng'd for it.

XLVI

Streight downe she ranne, like an enraged cow,
That is berobbed of her youngling dere,
With knife in hand, and fatally did vow
To wreake her on that mayden messengere,
Whom she had causd be kept as prisonere
By Artegall, misween'd for her owne knight,
That brought her backe. And comming present there,
She at her ran with all her force and might,
All flaming with revenge and furious despight.

XLVII

Like raging Ino, when with knife in hand
She threw her husbands murdred infant out;
Or fell Medea, when on Colchicke strand
Her brothers bones she scattered all about;
Or as that madding mother, mongst the rout
Of Bacchus priests, her owne deare flesh did teare.
Yet neither Ino, nor Medea stout,
Nor all the Moenades so furious were,
As this bold woman, when she saw that damzell there.

XLVIII

But Artegall, being thereof aware,
Did stay her cruell hand, ere she her raught,
And as she did her selfe to strike prepare,
Out of her fist the wicked weapon caught:
With that, like one enfelon'd or distraught,
She forth did rome, whether her rage her bore,
With franticke passion and with furie fraught;
And breaking forth out at a posterne dore,
Unto the wyld wood ranne, her dolours to deplore.

XLIX

As a mad bytch, when as the franticke fit
Her burning tongue with rage inflamed hath,
Doth runne at randon, and with furious bit
Snatching at every thing, doth wreake her wrath
On man and beast that commeth in her path.
There they doe say that she transformed was
Into a tygre, and that tygres scath
In crueltie and outrage she did pas,
To prove her surname true, that she imposed has.

L

Then Artegall himselfe discovering plaine,
Did issue forth gainst all that warlike rout
Of knights and armed men, which did maintaine
That ladies part, and to the Souldan lout:
All which he did assault with courage stout,
All were they nigh an hundred knights of name,
And like wyld goates them chaced all about,
Flying from place to place with cowheard shame,
So that with finall force them all he overcame.

LI

Then caused he the gates be opened wyde,
And there the Prince, as victour of that day,
With tryumph entertayn'd and glorifyde,
Presenting him with all the rich array
And roiall pompe, which there long hidden lay,
Purchast through lawlesse powre and tortious wrong
Of that proud Souldan, whom he earst did slay.
So both, for rest there having stayd not long,
Marcht with that mayd, fit matter for another song.

CANTO IX

Arthur and Artegall catch Guyle,
Whom Talus doth dismay:
They to Mercillaes pallace come,
And see her rich array.

I

WHAT tygre, or what other salvage wight,
Is so exceeding furious and fell
As Wrong, when it hath arm'd it selfe with might?
Not fit mongst men, that doe with reason mell,
But mongst wyld beasts and salvage woods to dwell;
Where still the stronger doth the weake devoure,
And they that most in boldnesse doe excell
Are dreadded most, and feared for their powre:
Fit for Adicia, there to build her wicked bowre.

II

There let her wonne farre from resort of men,
Where righteous Artegall her late exyled;
There let her ever keepe her damned den,
Where none may be with her lewd parts defyled,
Nor none but beasts may be of her despoyled:
And turne we to the noble Prince, where late
We did him leave, after that he had foyled
The cruell Souldan, and with dreadfull fate
Had utterly subverted his unrighteous state.

III

Where having with Sir Artegall a space
Well solast in that Souldans late delight,
They both resolving now to leave the place,
Both it and all the wealth therein behight
Unto that damzell in her ladies right,
And so would have departed on their way.
But she them woo'd by all the meanes she might,
And earnestly besought, to wend that day
With her, to see her ladie thence not farre away.

IV

By whose entreatie both they overcommen,
Agree to goe with her, and by the way,
(As often falles) of sundry things did commen.
Mongst which that damzell did to them bewray
A straunge adventure, which not farre thence lay;
To weet, a wicked villaine, bold and stout,
Which wonned in a rocke not farre away,
That robbed all the countrie there about,
And brought the pillage home, whence none could get it out.

V

Thereto both his owne wylie wit (she sayd)
And eke the fastnesse of his dwelling place,
Both unassaylable, gave him great ayde:
For he so crafty was to forge and face,
So light of hand, and nymble of his pace,
So smooth of tongue, and subtile in his tale,
That could deceive one looking in his face;
Therefore by name Malengin they him call,
Well knowen by his feates, and famous over all.

VI

Through these his slights he many doth confound,
And eke the rocke, in which he wonts to dwell,
Is wondrous strong, and hewen farre under ground
A dreadfull depth, how deepe no man can tell;
But some doe say, it goeth downe to hell.
And all within, it full of wyndings is,
And hidden wayes, that scarse an hound by smell
Can follow out those false footsteps of his,
Ne none can backe returne that once are gone amis.

VII

Which when those knights had heard, their harts gan earne
To understand that villeins dwelling place,
And greatly it desir'd of her to learne,
And by which way they towards it should trace.
'Were not,' sayd she, 'that it should let your pace
Towards my ladies presence by you ment,
I would you guyde directly to the place.'
'Then let not that,' said they, 'stay your intent;
For neither will one foot, till we that carle have hent.'

VIII

So forth they past, till they approched ny
Unto the rocke where was the villains won:
Which when the damzell neare at hand did spy,
She warn'd the knights thereof: who thereupon
Gan to advize what best were to be done.
So both agreed to send that mayd afore,
Where she might sit nigh to the den alone,
Wayling, and raysing pittifull uprore,
As if she did some great calamitie deplore.

IX

With noyse whereof when as the caytive carle
Should issue forth, in hope to find some spoyle,
They in awayt would closely him ensnarle,
Ere to his den he backward could recoyle,
And so would hope him easily to foyle.
The damzell straight went, as she was directed,
Unto the rocke, and there upon the soyle
Having her selfe in wretched wize abjected,
Gan weepe and wayle, as if great griefe had her affected.

X

The cry whereof entring the hollow cave,
Eftsoones brought forth the villaine, as they ment,
With hope of her some wishfull boot to have.
Full dreadfull wight he was, as ever went
Upon the earth, with hollow eyes deepe pent,
And long curld locks, that downe his shoulders shagged,
And on his backe an uncouth vestiment
Made of straunge stuffe, but all to-worne and ragged,
And underneath his breech was all to-torne and jagged.

XI

And in his hand an huge long staffe he held,
Whose top was arm'd with many an yron hooke,
Fit to catch hold of all that he could weld,
Or in the compasse of his clouches tooke;
And ever round about he cast his looke.
Als at his backe a great wyde net he bore,
With which he seldome fished at the brooke,
But usd to fish for fooles on the dry shore,
Of which he in faire weather wont to take great store.

XII

Him when the damzell saw fast by her side,
So ugly creature, she was nigh dismayd,
And now for helpe aloud in earnest cride.
But when the villaine saw her so affrayd,
He gan with guilefull words her to perswade
To banish feare, and with Sardonian smyle
Laughing on her, his false intent to shade,
Gan forth to lay his bayte her to beguyle,
That from her self unwares he might her steale the whyle.

XIII

Like as the fouler on his guilefull pype
Charmes to the birds full many a pleasant lay,
That they the whiles may take lesse heedie keepe,
How he his nets doth for their ruine lay:
So did the villaine to her prate and play,
And many pleasant trickes before her show,
To turne her eyes from his intent away:
For he in slights and jugling feates did flow,
And of legierdemayne the mysteries did know.

XIV

To which whilest she lent her intentive mind,
He suddenly his net upon her threw,
That oversprad her like a puffe of wind;
And snatching her soone up, ere well she knew,
Ran with her fast away unto his mew,
Crying for helpe aloud. But when as ny
He came unto his cave, and there did vew
The armed knights stopping his passage by,
He threw his burden downe, and fast away did fly.

XV

But Artegall him after did pursew,
The whiles the Prince there kept the entrance still:
Up to the rocke he ran, and thereon flew
Like a wyld gote, leaping from hill to hill,
And dauncing on the craggy cliffes at will;
That deadly daunger seem'd in all mens sight,
To tempt such steps, where footing was so ill:
Ne ought avayled for the armed knight
To thinke to follow him, that was so swift and light.

XVI

Which when he saw, his yron man he sent
To follow him; for he was swift in chace.
He him pursewd, where ever that he went;
Both over rockes, and hilles, and every place,
Where so he fled, he followd him apace:
So that he shortly forst him to forsake
The hight, and downe descend unto the base.
There he him courst a fresh, and soone did make
To leave his proper forme, and other shape to take.

XVII

Into a foxe himselfe he first did tourne;
But he him hunted like a foxe full fast:
Then to a bush himselfe he did transforme;
But he the bush did beat, till that at last
Into a bird it chaung'd, and from him past,
Flying from tree to tree, from wand to wand:
But he then stones at it so long did cast,
That like a stone it fell upon the land;
But he then tooke it up, and held fast in his hand.

XVIII

So he it brought with him unto the knights,
And to his lord, Sir Artegall, it lent,
Warning him hold it fast, for feare of slights.
Who whilest in hand it gryping hard he hent,
Into a hedgehogge all unwares it went,
And prickt him so that he away it threw.
Then gan it runne away incontinent,
Being returned to his former hew:
But Talus soone him overtooke, and backward drew.

XIX

But when as he would to a snake againe
Have turn'd himselfe, he with his yron flayle
Gan drive at him, with so huge might and maine,
That all his bones as small as sandy grayle
He broke, and did his bowels disentrayle;
Crying in vaine for helpe, when helpe was past.
So did deceipt the selfe deceiver fayle.
There they him left a carrion outcast,
For beasts and foules to feede upon for their repast.

XX

Thence forth they passed with that gentle mayd,
To see her ladie, as they did agree.
To which when she approched, thus she sayd:
'Loe now, right noble knights, arriv'd ye bee
Nigh to the place which ye desir'd to see:
There shall ye see my soverayne Lady Queene,
Most sacred wight, most debonayre and free,
That ever yet upon this earth was seene,
Or that with diademe hath ever crowned beene.'

XXI

The gentle knights rejoyced much to heare
The prayses of that prince so manifold,
And passing litle further, commen were
Where they a stately pallace did behold,
Of pompous show, much more then she had told;
With many towres and tarras mounted hye,
And all their tops bright glistering with gold,
That seemed to outshine the dimmed skye,
And with their brightnesse daz'd the straunge beholders eye.

XXII

There they alighting, by that damzell were
Directed in, and shewed all the sight:
Whose porch, that most magnificke did appeare,
Stood open wyde to all men day and night;
Yet warded well by one of mickle might,
That sate thereby, with gyantlike resemblance,
To keepe out Guyle, and Malice, and Despight,
That under shew oftimes of fayned semblance
Are wont in princes courts to worke great scath and hindrance.

XXIII

His name was Awe; by whom they passing in
Went up the hall, that was a large wyde roome,
All full of people making troublous din,
And wondrous noyse, as if that there were some
Which unto them was dealing righteous doome.
By whom they passing, through the thickest preasse,
The marshall of the hall to them did come;
His name hight Order, who, commaunding peace,
Them guyded through the throng, that did their clamors ceasse.

XXIV

They ceast their clamors upon them to gaze;
Whom seeing all in armour bright as day,
Straunge there to see, it did them much amaze,
And with unwonted terror halfe affray:
For never saw they there the like array;
Ne ever was the name of warre there spoken,
But joyous peace and quietnesse alway,
Dealing just judgements, that mote not be broken
For any brybes, or threates of any to be wroken.

XXV

There as they entred at the scriene, they saw
Some one, whose tongue was for his trespasse vyle
Nayld to a post, adjudged so by law:
For that therewith he falsely did revyle
And foule blaspheme that queene for forged guyle,
Both with bold speaches which he blazed had,
And with lewd poems which he did compyle;
For the bold title of a poet bad
He on himselfe had ta'en, and rayling rymes had sprad.

XXVI

Thus there he stood, whylest high over his head
There written was the purport of his sin,
In cyphers strange, that few could rightly read,
Bon font: but Bon, that once had written bin,
Was raced out, and Mal was now put in:
So now Malfont was plainely to be red;
Eyther for th' evill which he did therein,
Or that he likened was to a welhed
Of evill words, and wicked sclaunders by him shed.

XXVII

They, passing by, were guyded by degree
Unto the presence of that gratious queene:
Who sate on high, that she might all men see,
And might of all men royally be seene,
Upon a throne of gold full bright and sheene,
Adorned all with gemmes of endlesse price,
As either might for wealth have gotten bene,
Or could be fram'd by workmans rare device;
And all embost with lyons and with flourdelice.

XXVIII

All over her a cloth of state was spred,
Not of rich tissew, nor of cloth of gold,
Nor of ought else that may be richest red,
But like a cloud, as likest may be told,
That her brode spreading wings did wyde unfold;
Whose skirts were bordred with bright sunny beams,
Glistring like gold, amongst the plights enrold,
And here and there shooting forth silver streames,
Mongst which crept litle angels through the glittering gleames.

XXIX

Seemed those litle angels did uphold
The cloth of state, and on their purpled wings
Did beare the pendants, through their nimblesse bold:
Besides, a thousand more of such as sings
Hymnes to High God, and carols heavenly things,
Encompassed the throne on which she sate:
She angel-like, the heyre of ancient kings
And mightie conquerors, in royall state,
Whylest kings and kesars at her feet did them prostrate.

XXX

Thus she did sit in soverayne majestie,
Holding a scepter in her royall hand,
The sacred pledge of peace and clemencie,
With which High God had blest her happie land,
Maugre so many foes which did withstand.
But at her feet her sword was likewise layde,
Whose long rest rusted the bright steely brand;
Yet when as foes enforst, or friends sought ayde,
She could it sternely draw, that all the world dismayde.

XXXI

And round about, before her feet there sate
A bevie of faire virgins clad in white,
That goodly seem'd t' adorne her royall state,
All lovely daughters of high Jove, that hight
Litae, by him begot in loves delight
Upon the righteous Themis: those they say
Upon Joves judgement seat wayt day and night,
And when in wrath he threats the worlds decay,
They doe his anger calme, and cruell vengeance stay.

XXXII

They also doe by his divine permission
Upon the thrones of mortall princes tend,
And often treat for pardon and remission
To suppliants, through frayltie which offend.
Those did upon Mercillaes throne attend:
Just Dice, wise Eunomie, myld Eirene;
And them amongst, her glorie to commend,
Sate goodly Temperance in garments clene,
And sacred Reverence, yborne of heavenly strene.

XXXIII

Thus did she sit in royall rich estate,
Admyr'd of many, honoured of all,
Whylest underneath her feete, there as she sate,
An huge great lyon lay, that mote appall
An hardie courage, like captived thrall,
With a strong yron chaine and coller bound,
That once he could not move, nor quich at all;
Yet did he murmure with rebellious sound,
And softly royne, when salvage choler gan redound.

XXXIV

So sitting high in dreaded soverayntie,
Those two strange knights were to her presence brought;
Who, bowing low before her majestie,
Did to her myld obeysance, as they ought,
And meekest boone that they imagine mought.
To whom she eke inclyning her withall,
As a faire stoupe of her high soaring thought,
A chearefull countenance on them let fall,
Yet tempred with some majestie imperiall.

XXXV

As the bright sunne, what time his fierie teme
Towards the westerne brim begins to draw,
Gins to abate the brightnesse of his beme,
And fervour of his flames somewhat adaw:
So did this mightie ladie, when she saw
Those two strange knights such homage to her make,
Bate somewhat of that majestie and awe,
That whylome wont to doe so many quake,
And with more myld aspect those two to entertake.

XXXVI

Now at that instant, as occasion fell,
When these two stranger knights arriv'd in place,
She was about affaires of common wele,
Dealing of justice with indifferent grace,
And hearing pleas of people meane and base.
Mongst which, as then, there was for to be heard
The tryall of a great and weightie case,
Which on both sides was then debating hard:
But at the sight of these, those were a while debard.

XXXVII

But after all her princely entertayne,
To th' hearing of that former cause in hand
Her selfe eftsoones she gan convert againe;
Which that those knights likewise mote understand,
And witnesse forth aright in forrain land,
Taking them up unto her stately throne,
Where they mote heare the matter throughly scand
On either part, she placed th' one on th' one,
The other on the other side, and neare them none.

XXXVIII

Then was there brought, as prisoner to the barre,
A ladie of great countenance and place,
But that she it with foule abuse did marre;
Yet did appeare rare beautie in her face,
But blotted with condition vile and base,
That all her other honour did obscure,
And titles of nobilitie deface:
Yet in that wretched semblant, she did sure
The peoples great compassion unto her allure.

XXXIX

Then up arose a person of deepe reach,
And rare in-sight, hard matters to revele;
That well could charme his tongue, and time his speach
To all assayes; his name was called Zele:
He gan that ladie strongly to appele
Of many haynous crymes, by her enured,
And with sharpe reasons rang her such a pele,
That those whom she to pitie had allured
He now t' abhorre and loath her person had procured.

XL

First gan he tell, how this, that seem'd so faire
And royally arayd, Duessa hight,
That false Duessa, which had wrought great care
And mickle mischiefe unto many a knight,
By her beguyled and confounded quight:
But not for those she now in question came,
Though also those mote question'd be aright,
But for vyld treasons and outrageous shame,
Which she against the dred Mercilla oft did frame.

XLI

For she whylome (as ye mote yet right well
Remember) had her counsels false conspyred
With faithlesse Blandamour and Paridell,
(Both two her paramours, both by her hyred,
And both with hope of shadowes vaine in spyred,)
And with them practiz'd, how for to depryve
Mercilla of her crowne, by her aspyred,
That she might it unto her selfe deryve,
And tryumph in their blood, whom she to death did dryve.

XLII

But through high heavens grace, which favour not
The wicked driftes of trayterous desynes
Gainst loiall princes, all this cursed plot,
Ere proofe it tooke, discovered was betymes,
And th' actours won the meede meet for their crymes.
Such be the meede of all that by such mene
Unto the type of kingdomes title clymes.
But false Duessa, now untitled queene,
Was brought to her sad doome, as here was to be seene.

XLIII

Strougly did Zele her haynous fact enforce,
And many other crimes of foule defame
Against her brought, to banish all remorse,
And aggravate the horror of her blame.
And with him to make part against her, came
Many grave persons, that against her pled:
First was a sage old syre, that had to name
The Kingdomes Care, with a white silver hed,
That many high regards and reasons gainst her red.

XLIV

Then gan Authority her to appose
With peremptorie powre, that made all mute;
And then the Law of Nations gainst her rose,
And reasons brought, that no man could refute;
Next gan Religion gainst her to impute
High Gods beheast, and powre of holy lawes;
Then gan the Peoples Cry and Commons Sute
Importune care of their owne publicke cause;
And lastly Justice charged her with breach of lawes.

XLV

But then for her, on the contrarie part,
Rose many advocates for her to plead:
First there came Pittie, with full tender hart,
And with her joyn'd Regard of Womanhead;
And then came Daunger, threatning hidden dread
And high alliance unto forren powre;
Then came Nobilitie of Birth, that bread
Great ruth through her misfortunes tragicke stowre;
And lastly Griefe did plead, and many teares forth powre.

XLVI

With the neare touch whereof in tender hart
The Briton Prince was sore empassionate,
And woxe inclined much unto her part,
Through the sad terror of so dreadfull fate,
And wretched ruine of so high estate,
That for great ruth his courage gan relent.
Which when as Zele perceived to abate,
He gan his earnest fervour to augment,
And many fearefull objects to them to present.

XLVII

He gan t' efforce the evidence anew,
And new accusements to produce in place:
He brought forth that old hag of hellish hew,
The cursed Ate, brought her face to face,
Who privie was, and partie in the case:
She, glad of spoyle and ruinous decay,
Did her appeach, and, to her more disgrace,
The plot of all her practise did display,
And all her traynes and all her treasons forth did lay.

XLVIII

Then brought he forth, with griesly grim aspect,
Abhorred Murder, who with bloudie knyfe
Yet dropping fresh in hand did her detect,
And there with guiltie bloudshed charged ryfe:
Then brought he forth Sedition, breeding stryfe
In troublous wits, and mutinous uprore:
Then brought he forth Incontinence of Lyfe,
Even foule Adulterie her face before,
And lewd Impietie, that her accused sore.

XLIX

All which when as the Prince had heard and seene,
His former fancies ruth he gan repent,
And from her partie eftsoones was drawen cleene.
But Artegall, with constant firme intent,
For zeale of justice was against her bent.
So was she guiltie deemed of them all.
Then Zele began to urge her punishment,
And to their queene for judgement loudly call,
Unto Mercilla myld, for justice gainst the thrall.

L

But she, whose princely breast was touched nere
With piteous ruth of her so wretched plight,
Though plaine she saw, by all that she did heare,
That she of death was guiltie found by right,
Yet would not let just vengeance on her light;
But rather let in stead thereof to fall
Few perling drops from her faire lampes of light;
The which she covering with her purple pall
Would have the passion hid, and up arose withall.





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