The Works of the English Poets, from Chaucer to Cowper: Spenser, Daniel

So boldly he him beares, and rusheth forth
Betweene them both, by conduct of his blade.
Wondrous great prowesse and heroick worth
He shewd that day, and rare ensample made,
When two so mighty warriours he dismade:
Attonce he wards and strikes; he takes and paies;
Now forst to yield, now forcing to invade ;
Before, behind, and round about him laies:
So double was his paines, so double be his praise.

Straunge sort of fight, three valiaunt knights to see
.Three combates ioine in one, and to darraine
A triple warre with triple enmitee,

All for their ladies froward love to gaine,
Which, gotten, was but bate. So Love does raine
In stoutest minds, and maketh monstrous warre;
He maketh warre, he maketh peace againe,
And yett his peace is but continual iarre:
O miserable men, that to him subiect arre!

Whilst thus they mingled, were in furious armes,
The faire Medina with her tresses torne
And naked brest, in pitty of their harmes,
Emongst them ran; and, falling them beforne,
Besought them by the womb which them had born,
And by the loves which were to them most deare,
And by the knighthood which they sure had sworn,
Their deadly cruell discord to forbeare,

And to her iust conditions of faire peace to heare.

But her two other sisters, standing by,

Her gracious words their rancour did appall,
And suncke so deepe into their boyling brests,
That downe they lett their cruell weapons fall,
And lowly did abase their lofty crests
To her faire presence and discrete behests.
Then she began a treaty to procure,
And stablish terms betwixt both their requests,
That as a law for ever should endure; [sure.
Which to observe, in word of knights they did as-

Which to confirme, and fast to bind their league,
After their weary sweat and bloody toile,
She them besought, during their quiet treague,
Into her lodging to repaire a while,

To rest themselves, and grace to reconcile.
They soone consent: so forth with her they fare;
Where they are well receivd, and made to spoile
Themselves of soiled armes, and to prepare [fare.
Their minds to pleasure, and their mouths to dainty

And those two froward sisters, their faire loves,
Came with them eke, all were they wondrous loth,
And fained cheare, as for the time behoves;
But could not colour yet so well the troth,
But that their natures bad appeard in both :
For both did at their second sister grutch
And inly grieve, as doth an hidden moth
The inner garment frett, not th' utter touch;
One thought her cheare too litle, th' other thought
too mutch.

Her lowd gainsaid; and both their champions bad Elissa (so the eldest hight) did deeme

Pursew the end of their strong enmity,
As ever of their loves they would be glad :
Yet she with pitthy words, and counsell sad,
Still strove their stubborne rages to revoke;
That at the last, suppressing fury mad,
They gan abstaine from dint of direfull stroke,
And hearken to the sober speaches which she spoke;

"Ah! puissaunt lords, what cursed evill spright,
Or fell Erinnys, in your noble harts
Her hellish brond hath kindled with despight,
And stird you up to worke your wilfull smarts?
Is this the joy of armes ? be these the parts
Of glorious knighthood, after blood to thrust,
And not regard dew right and just desarts?
Vaine is the vaunt, and victory uniust,
That more to mighty hands then rightfull cause doth

[trust.

"And were there rightfull cause of difference,
Yet were not better fayre it to accord,
Then with blood-guiltinesse to heape offence,
And mortal vengeaunce joyne to crime abhord?
O! fly from wrath; fly, O.my liefest lord!
Sad be the sights, and bitter fruites of warre,
And thousand furies wait on wrathfull sword:
Ne ought the praise of prowesse more doth marre
Then fowle revenging rage, and base contentious
iarre.

"But lovely concord, and most sacred peace,
Doth nourish vertue, and fast friendship breeds;
Weake she makes strong, and strong thing does in-
Till it the pitch of highest praise exceeds: [creace,
Brave be her warres, and honorable deeds,
By which she triumphes over yre and pride,
And winnes an olive girlond for her meeds.
Be therefore, O my deare lords, pacifide,
And this misseeming discord meekely lay aside."

Such entertainment base, ne ought would eat,
Ne ought would speake, but evermore did seeme
As discontent for want of merth or meat;
No solace could her paramour intreat
Her once to show, ne court, nor dalliaunce;
But with bent lowring browes, as she would threat,
She scould, and frownd with froward countenaunce;
Unworthy of faire ladies comely governaunce.

But young Perissa was of other mynd,
Full of disport, still laughing, loosely light,
And quite contráry to her sisters kynd;
No measure in her mood, no rule of right,
But poured out in pleasure and delight:
In wine and meats she flowd above the banck,
And in excesse exceeded her owne might;
In sumptuous tire she ioyd her selfe to pranek,
But of her love too lavish: litle have she thanck !

Fast by her side did sitt the bold Sansloy,
Fitt mate for such a mincing mineon,
Who in her loosenesse tooke exceeding ioy;
Might not be found a francker franion,
Of her leawd parts to make companion.
But Huddibras, more like a malecontent,
Did see and grieve at his bold fashion;
Hardly could he endure his hardiment;
Yett still he satt, and inly did himselfe torment.

Betwixt them both the faire Medina sate
With sober grace and goodly carriage:
With equall measure she did moderate
The strong extremities of their outrage;
That forward paire she ever would asswage,
When they would strive dew reason to exceed;
But that same froward twaine would accoráge,
And of her plenty adde unto their need:
So kept she them in order, and herselfe in heed.

Thus fairely shee attempered her feast,
And pleasd them all with meete satiety :
At last, when lust of meat and drinke was ceast,
She Guyon deare besought of curtesie

To tell from whence he came through ieopardy,
And whether now on new adventure bownd:
Who with bold grace, and comely gravity,
Drawing to him the eies of all arownd,

From lofty siege began these words aloud to sownd.

"This thy demaund, O lady, doth revive
Fresh memory in me of that great queene,
Great and most glorious virgin queene alive,
That with her soveraine power, and scepter shene,
All Faery lond does peaceably sustene.
In widest ocean she her throne does reare,
That over all the earth it may be seene;
As morning Sunne her beames dispredden cleare;
And in her face faire peace and mercy doth ap-
peare.

In her the richnesse of all heavenly grace
In chiefe degree are heaped up on hye:
And all, that els this worlds enclosure bace
Hath great or glorious in mortall eye,
Adornes the person of her maiestye;
That men, beholding so great excellence
And rare perfection in mortalitye,
Doe her adore with sacred reverence,

As th' idole of her Makers great magnificence.

"To her I homage and my service owe,
In number of the noblest knightes on ground,
Mongst whom on me she deigned to bestowe
Order of Maydenhead, the most renownd,
That may this day in all the world be found.
An yearely solemne feast she wontes to make,
The day that first doth lead the yeare around,
To which all knights of worth and courage bold
Resort, to heare of straunge adventures to be told.

"There this old palmer shewd himselfe that day,
And to that mighty princesse did complaine
Of grievous mischiefes, which a wicked Fay
Had wrought, and many whelmd in deadly paine,
Whereof he crav'd redresse. My soveraine,
Whose glory is in gracious deeds, and ioyes
Throughout the world her mercy to maintaine,
Eftsoones devisd redresse for such annoyes:
Me, all unfitt for so great purpose, she employes.

"Now hath faire Phebe with her silver face
Thrise seene the shadowes of the neather world,
Sith last I left that honorable place,
In which her roiall presence is entrold;
Ne ever shall I rest in house nor hold,
Till I that false Aerasia have wonne;
Of whose fowle deedes, too hideous to bee told,
I witnesse am, and this their wretched sonne
Whose wofull parents she hath wickedly fordonne."

"Tell on, fayre sir,” said she, “that dolefull tale, From which sad ruth does seeme you to restraine, That we may pitty such unhappie bale,

And learne from Pleasures poyson to abstaine:
Ill, by ensample, good doth often gayne."
Then forward he his purpose gan pursew,
And told the story of the mortall payne,
Which Mordant and Amavia did rew;
As, with lamenting eyes, himselfe did lately vew.

Night was far spent; and now in ocean deep
Orion, flying fast from hissing Snake,
His flaming head did hasten for to steep,
When of his pitteous tale he end did make:
Whilst with delight of that he wisely spake
Those guestes beguyled did beguyle their eyes
Of kindly sleepe, that did them overtake.
At last, when they had markt the chaunged skyes,
They wist their houre was spent ; then each to rest
him byes.

CANTO III.

Vaine Braggadocchio, getting Guy-
ons horse, is made the scorne
Of knighthood trew; and is of fayre
Belphæbe fowle forlorne.

SOONE as the morrow fayre with purple beames
Disperst the shadowes of the misty night,
And Titan, playing on the eastern streames,
Gan cleare the deawy ayre with springing light;
Sir Guyon, mindfull of his vow yplight,
Uprose from drowsie couch, and him addrest
Unto the journey which he had behight:
His puissant armes about his noble brest,

And many-folded shield he bound about his wrest.

Thereat the scarerow wexed wondrous prowd,
Through fortune of his first adventure fayre,
And with big thundring voice revyld him lowd;
"Vile caytive, vassall of dread and despayre,
Unworthie of the commune breathed ayre,
Why livest thou, dead dog, a lenger day,
And doest not unto death thyselfe prepayre?
Dy, or thyselfe my captive yield for ay: [stay."
Great favour thee graunt for aunswere thus to

"Hold, O deare lord, hold your dead-doing hand,"
Then loud he cryde, "I am your humble thrall."
"Ah, wretch," quoth he, "thy destinies withstand
My wrathfull will, and doc for mercy call.
I give thee life: therefore prostrated fall,
And kisse my stirrup; that thy homage bec."
The miser threw himselfe, as an offall,
Streight at his foot in base humilitce,

And clecped him his liege, to hold of him in fee.

So happy peace they made and faire accord.
Eftsoones this liegeman gan to wexe more bold,
And, when he felt the folly of his lord,
In his owne kind he gan himselfe unfold:
For he was wylie witted, and growne old
In cunning sleightes and practick knavery.
From that day forth he cast for to uphold
His ydle humour with fine flattery,
And blow the bellowes to his swelling vanity.

Trompart, fitt man for Braggadocchio
To serve at court in view of vaunting eye;
Vaine-glorious man, when fluttring wind does blow
In his light winges, is lifted up to skye;
The scorne of knighthood and trew chevalrye,
To thinke, without desert of gentle deed
And noble worth, to be advaunced hye;
Such prayse is shame; but honour, vertues meed,
Doth beare the fayrest flowre in honourable seed.

So forth they pas, a well consorted payre,
Till that at length with Archimage they meet:
Who seeing one, that shone in armour fayre,
On goodly courser thondring with his feet,
Eftsoones supposed him a person meet
Of his revenge to make the instrument:
For since the Redcrosse knight he erst did weet
To been with Guyon knitt in one consent,
The ill, which earst to him, he now to Guyon ment.

And comming close to Trompart gan inquere
Of him, what mightie warriour that mote bee,
That rode in golden sell with single spere,
But wanted sword to wreake his enmitee.
"He is a great adventurer," said he,
"That hath his sword through hard assay forgone,
And now hath vowd, till he avenged bee

Of that despight, never to wearen none;

Th' enchaunter greatly ioyed in the vaunt,
And weened well ere long his will to win,
And both his foen with equall foyle to daunt:
Tho to him louting lowly did begin

To plaine of wronges, which had committed bin
By Guyon, and by that false Redcrosse knight;
Which two, through treason and deceiptfull gin,
Had slayne sir Mordant and his lady bright:
That mote him honour win,towreak so foule despight.
Therewith all suddeinly be seemd enrag'd,
And threatned death with dreadfull countenaunce,
As if their lives had in his hand beene gag'd;
And with stiffe force shaking his mortall launce,
To let him weet his doughtie valiaunce,
Thus said; "Old man, great sure shal be thy meed,
If, where those knights for feare of dew vengeaúnce
Doe lurke, thou certeinly to mee areed,
[deed."
That I may wreake on them their hainous hateful
"Certes, my lord," said he, "that shall I soone,
And give you eke good heipe to their decay.
But mote I wisely you advise to doon;
Give no ods to your foes, but doe purvay
Yourselfe of sword before that bloody day;
(For they be two the prowest knights on grownd,
And oft approv'd in many hard assay;)
And eke of surest steele, that may be fownd,
Do arme yourselfe against that day, them to con-
fownd."

"Dotard," saide he, "let be thy deepe advise;
Seemes that through many yeares thy wits thee faile,
And that weake eld hath left thee nothing wise,
Els never should thy iudgement be so frayle
To measure manhood by the sword or mayle.
Is not enough fowre quarters of a man,
Withouten sword or shield, an hoste to quayle?
Thou litle wotest that this right-hand can:
Speake they, which have beheld the battailes which
it wan."

The man was much abashed at his boast;
Yet well he wist that whoso would contend
With either of those knightes on even coast,
Should neede of all his armes him to defend ;
Yet feared least his boldnesse should offend:
When Braggadocchio saide; " Once I did sweare,
When with one sword seven knightes I brought to end,
Thenceforth in battaile never sword to beare,
But it were that which noblest knight on Earth doth

"Perdy, sir Knight," saide then th' enchaunter blive,
"That shall I shortly purchase to your bond:
For now the best and noblest knight alive
Prince Arthur is, that wonnes in Faerie lond;
He hath a sword, that flames like burning brond:
The same, by my device, I undertake
Shall by to morrow by thy side be fond."
At which bold word that boaster gan to quake,
And wondred in his minde what mote that monster
make.

He stayd not for more bidding, but away
Was suddein vanished out of his sight:
The northerne winde his wings did broad display
At his commaund, and reared him up light
From off the earth to take his aeric flight.
They lookt about, but no where could espye
Tract of his foot: then dead through great affright
They both nigh were, and each bad other flye:

That speare is him enough to doen a thousand grone." Both fled attonce, ne ever backe retourned eye,

Below her ham her weed did somewhat trayne,
And her streight legs most bravely were embayld
In gilden buskins of costly cordwayne,
All bard with golden bendes, which were entayld
With curious antickes, and full fayre aumayld:
Before, they fastned were under her knee
In a rich jewell, and therein entrayld
The ends of all the knots, that none might see
How they within their fouldings close enwrapped bee:

Till that they come unto a forrest greene, [feare;
In which they shrowd themselves from causeles
Yet feare them followes still, where so they beene:
Each trembling leafe and whistling wind they heare,
As ghastly bug, does greatly them affeare:
Yet both doe strive their fearfulnesse to faine.
At last they heard a horne that shrilled cleare
Throughout the wood that ecchoed againe,
And made the forrest ring, as it would rive in twaine.

Like two faire marble pillours they were seene,
Which doe the temple of the gods support,
Whom all the people decke with girlands greene,
And honour in their festivall resort;

Those same with stately grace and princely port
She taught to tread, when she herselfe would grace;
But with the woody nymphes when she did play,
Or when the flying libbard she did chace,
She could them nimbly move, and after fly apace.

And in her hand a sharpe bore-speare she held,
And at her backe a bow and quiver gay,
Stuft with steel-headed dartes wherewith she queld
The salvage beastes in her victorious play,
Knit with a golden bauldricke which forelay
Athwart her snowy brest, and did divide
Her daintie paps; which, like young fruit in May,
Now little gan to swell, and being tide
Through her thin weed their places only signifide.

Her yellow lockes, crisped like golden wyre,
About her shoulders weren loosely shed,
And, when the winde emongst them did inspyre,
They waved like a penon wyde despred,
And low behinde her backe were scattered:
And, whether art it were or heedlesse hap,
As through the flouring forrest rash she fled,
In her rude heares sweet flowres themselves did lap,
And flourishing fresh leaves and blossomes did en-

wrap.

Such as Diana by the sandy shore
Of swift Eurotas, or on Cynthus greene,
Where all the nymphes have her unwares forlore.
Wandreth alone with bow and arrowes keene,
To seeke her game: or as that famous queene
Of Amazons, whom Pyrrhus did destroy,
The day that first of Priame she was seene,
Did shew herselfe in great triumphant ioy,
To succour the weake state of sad afflicted Troy.

Such when as hartlesse Trompart her did vew,
He was dismayed in his coward minde,
And doubted whether he himselfe should shew,
Or fly away, or bide alone behinde;

Both feare and hope he in her face did finde:
When she at last him spying thus bespake; [hynde,
"Hayle, groome; didst not thou see a bleeding
Whose right haunch earst my stedfast arrow strake?
If thou didst, tell me, that I may her overtake."

Wherewith reviv'd, this answere forth he threw;
"O goddesse, (for such I thee take to bee)
For nether doth thy face terrestriall shew,
Nor voyce sound mortall; I avow to thee,
Such wounded beast, as that, I did not see,
Sith earst into this forrest wild I came.
But mote thy goodlyhed forgive it mee,

To weete which of the gods I shall thee name,
That unto thee dew worship I may rightly frame."

To whom she thus-But ere her words ensewd,
Unto the bush her eye did suddein glaunce,
In which vaine Braggadocchio was mewd,
And saw it stirre: she lefte her percing launce,
And towards gan a deadly shafte advaunce,
In minde to marke the beast. At which sad stowre,
Trompart forth stept, to stay the mortall chaunce,
Out crying; "O! whatever hevenly powre,
Qrearthly wight thou be, withhold this deadly howre!

"O! stay thy hand; for yonder is no game
For thy fiers arrowes, them to exercize;
But loe! my lord, my liege, whose warlike name
Is far renownd through many bold emprize;
And now in shade he shrówded yonder lies."
She staid: with that he crauld out of his nest,
Forth creeping ou his caitive hands and thies;
And standing stoutly up his lofty crest [rest.
Did fiercely shake, and rowze as comming late from

As fearfull fowle, that long in secret cave
For dread of soring hauke herselfe hath hid,
Not caring how, her silly life to save,
She her gay painted plumes disorderid;
Seeing at last herselfe from daunger rid,
Peeps forth, and soone renews her native pride;
She gins her feathers fowle disfigured
Prowdly to prune, and sett on every side; [hide.
She shakes off shame, ne thinks how erst she did her

So when her goodly visage he beheld,

He gan himselfe to vaunt: but, when he vewd
Those deadly tooles which in her hand she held,
Soone into other fitts he was transmewd,
Till she to him her gracious speach renewd;
"All haile, sir Knight, and well may thee befall,
As all the like, which honor have pursewd
Through deeds of armes and prowesse martiall!
All vertue merits praise, but such the most of all.

To whom he thus; "O fairest under skie,
Trew be thy words, and worthy of thy praise,
That warlike feats doest highest glorifie.
Therein I have spent all my youthly daies,
And many battailes fought and many fraies
Throughout the world, wherso they might be found,
Findevoring my dreaded name to raise
Above the Moone, that Fame may it resound
In her eternall tromp with laurell girlond cround.

"But what art thou, O lady, which doest raunge
In this wilde forest, where no pleasure is,
And doest not it for ioyous court exchaunge,
Emongst thine equall peres, where happy blis
And all delight does raigne much more than this?
There thou maist love, and dearly loved be,
And swim in pleasure, which thou here doest mis;
There maist thou best be seene, and best maist see:
The wood is fit for beasts, the court is fitt for thee."

"Whoso in pompe of prowd estate," quoth she,
"Does swim, and bathes himselfe in courtly blis,
Does waste his daies in darke obscuritee,
And in oblivion ever buried is:
Where ease abownds, yt 's eath to doe amis:
But who his limbs with labours, and his mynd
Behaves with cares, cannot so easy mis.
Abroad in armes, at home in studious kynd,
Who seekes with painfull toile, shall Honor soonest

fynd:

"In woods, in waves, in warres, she wonts to dwell
And wil be found with perill and with paine;
Ne can the man, that moulds in ydle cell,
Unto her happy mansion attaine:
Before her gate high God did Sweate ordaine,
And wakefull Watches ever to abide:
But easy is the way and passage plaine
To Pleasures pallace; it may soone be spide,
And day and night her dores to all stand open
wide.

"In princes court"-The rest she would have sayd,

But that the foolish man (fild with delight
Of her sweete words that all his sence dismayd,
And with her wondrous beauty ravisht quight,)
Gan burne in filthy lust; and, leaping light,
Thought in his bastard armes her to embrace.
With that she, swarving backe, her iavelin bright
Against him bent, and fiercely did menáce:
So turned her about, and fled away apace.

Which when the pesaunt saw, amazd he stood,
And grieved at her flight; yet durst he not
Pursew her steps through wild unknowen wood;
Besides he feard her wrath, and threatened shott,
Whiles in the bush he lay, not yet forgott:
Ne card he greatly for her presence vayne,
But turning said to Trompart; "What fowle blott
Is this to knight, that lady should agayne
Depart to woods untoucht, and leave so proud dis-
dayne !"

"Perdy," said Trompart, "lett her pas at will,
Least by her presence daunger mote befall.
For who can tell (and sure I feare it ill)
But that shee is some powre celestiall?
For, whiles she spake, her great words did appall
My feeble corage, and my heart oppresse,
That yet I quake and tremble over all."
"And I," said Braggadocchio, "thought no lesse,
When first I heard her horn sound with such ghast-
linesse.

"For from my mothers wombe this grace I have Me given by eternall destiny,

That earthly thing may not my corage brave
Dismay with feare, or cause one foote to flye,
But either hellish feends, or powres on hye:
Which was the cause, when earst that horne I
heard,

Weening it had beene thunder in the skye,
I hid my selfe from it, as one affeard;
But, when I other knew, my self I boldly reard.

"But now, for feare of worse that may betide,
Let us soone hence depart." They soone agree:
So to his steed he gott, and gan to ride
As one unfitt therefore, that all might see
He had not trayned bene in chevalree.
Which well that valiaunt courser did discerne;
For he despisd to tread in dew degree,
But chaufd and fom'd with corage fiers and sterne,
And to be easd of that base burden still did erne.

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