Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

Edmund Spenser (1552?–1599). The Complete Poetical Works. 1908.

The Faerie Queene

Book II. The Legend of Sir Guyon. Canto XI

WHAT warre so cruel, or what siege so sore,

As that which strong affections doe apply

Against the forte of reason evermore,

To bring the sowle into captivity?

Their force is fiercer through infirmity

Of the fraile flesh, relenting to their rage,

And exercise most bitter tyranny

Upon the partes, brought into their bondage:

No wretchednesse is like to sinfull vellenage.

But in a body which doth freely yeeld

His partes to reasons rule obedient,

And letteth her, that ought, the scepter weeld,

All happy peace and goodly government

Is setled there in sure establishment.

There Alma, like a virgin queene most bright,

Doth florish in all beautie excellent,

And to her guestes doth bounteous banket dight,

Attempred goodly well for health and for delight.

Early, before the morne with cremosin ray

The windowes of bright heaven opened had,

Through which into the world the dawning day

Might looke, that maketh every creature glad,

Uprose Sir Guyon, in bright armour clad,

And to his purposd journey him prepar’d:

With him the palmer eke in habit sad

Him selfe addrest to that adventure hard:

So to the rivers syde they both together far’d.

Where them awaited ready at the ford

The ferriman, as Alma had behight,

With his well rigged bote. They goe abord,

And he eftsoones gan launch his barke forth-right.

Ere long they rowed were quite out of sight,

And fast the land behynd them fled away.

But let them pas, whiles winde and wether right

Doe serve their turnes: here I a while must stay,

To see a cruell fight doen by the Prince this day.

For all so soone as Guyon thence was gon

Upon his voyage with his trustie guyde,

That wicked band of villeins fresh begon

That castle to assaile on every side,

And lay strong siege about it far and wyde.

So huge and infinite their numbers were,

That all the land they under them did hyde;

So fowle and ugly, that exceeding feare

Their visages imprest, when they approched neare.

Them in twelve troupes their captein did dispart,

And round about in fittest steades did place,

Where each might best offend his proper part,

And his contrary object most deface,

As every one seem’d meetest in that cace.

Seven of the same against the castle gate

In strong entrenchments he did closely place,

Which with incessaunt force and endlesse hate

They battred day and night, and entraunce did awate.

The other five, five sondry wayes he sett,

Against the five great bulwarkes of that pyle,

And unto each a bulwarke did arrett,

T’ assayle with open force or hidden guyle,

In hope thereof to win victorious spoile.

They all that charge did fervently apply

With greedie malice and importune toyle,

And planted there their huge artillery,

With which they dayly made most dreadfull battery.

The first troupe was a monstrous rablement

Of fowle misshapen wightes, of which some were

Headed like owles, with beckes uncomely bent,

Others like dogs, others like gryphons dreare,

And some had wings, and some had clawes to teare,

And every one of them had lynces eyes,

And every one did bow and arrowes beare;

All those were lawlesse lustes, corrupt envyes,

And covetous aspects, all cruel enimyes.

Those same against the bulwarke of the Sight

Did lay strong siege and battailous assault,

Ne once did yield it respitt day nor night,

But soone as Titan gan his head exault,

And soone againe as he his light withhault,

Their wicked engins they against it bent:

That is, each thing by which the eyes may fault:

But two, then all more huge and violent,

Beautie and money, they that bulwarke sorely rent.

The second bulwarke was the Hearing Sence,

Gainst which the second troupe dessignment makes,

Deformed creatures, in straunge difference,

Some having heads like harts, some like to snakes,

Some like wilde bores late rouzd out of the brakes;

Slaunderous reproches, and fowle infamies,

Leasinges, backbytinges, and vaineglorious crakes,

Bad counsels, prayses, and false flatteries;

All those against that fort did bend their batteries.

Likewise that same third fort, that is the Smell,

Of that third troupe was cruelly assayd;

Whose hideous shapes were like to feendes of hell,

Some like to houndes, some like to apes, dismayd,

Some like to puttockes, all in plumes arayd;

All shap’t according their conditions:

For by those ugly formes weren pourtrayd

Foolish delights and fond abusions,

Which doe that sence besiege with light illusions.

And that fourth band, which cruell battry bent

Against the fourth bulwarke, that is the Taste,

Was, as the rest, a grysie rablement,

Some mouth’d like greedy oystriges, some faste

Like loathly toades, some fashioned in the waste

Like swine; for so deformd is luxury,

Surfeat, misdiet, and unthriftie waste,

Vaine feastes, and ydle superfluity:

All those this sences fort assayle incessantly.

But the fift troupe, most horrible of hew

And ferce of force, is dreadfull to report:

For some like snailes, some did like spyders shew,

And some like ugly urchins thick and short:

Cruelly they assayled that fift fort,

Armed with dartes of sensuall delight,

With stinges of carnall lust, and strong effort

Of feeling pleasures, with which day and night

Against that same fift bulwarke they continued fight.

Thus these twelve troupes with dreadfull puissaunce

Against that castle restlesse siege did lay,

And evermore their hideous ordinaunce

Upon the bulwarkes cruelly did play,

That now it gan to threaten neare decay;

And evermore their wicked capitayn

Provoked them the breaches to assay,

Somtimes with threats, somtimes with hope of gayn,

Which by the ransack of that peece they should attayn.

On th’ other syde, th’ assieged castles ward

Their stedfast stonds did mightily maintaine,

And many bold repulse and many hard

Atchievement wrought, with perill and with payne,

That goodly frame from ruine to sustaine:

And those two brethren gyauntes did defend

The walles so stoutly with their sturdie mayne,

That never entraunce any durst pretend,

But they to direfull death their groning ghosts did send.

The noble virgin, ladie of the place,

Was much dismayed with that dreadful sight;

For never was she in so evill cace:

Till that the Prince, seeing her wofull plight,

Gan her recomfort from so sad affright,

Offring his service and his dearest life

For her defence, against that carle to fight,

Which was their chiefe and th’ authour of that strife:

She him remercied as the patrone of her life.

Eftsoones himselfe in glitterand armes he dight,

And his well proved weapons to him hent:

So taking courteous conge, he behight

Those gates to be unbar’d, and forth he went.

Fayre mote he thee, the prowest and most gent

That ever brandished bright steele on hye:

Whom soone as that unruly rablement

With his gay squyre issewing did espye,

They reard a most outrageous dreadfull yelling cry;

And therewithall attonce at him let fly

Their fluttring arrowes, thicke as flakes of snow,

And round about him flocke impetuously,

Like a great water flood, that, tombling low

From the high mountaines, threates to over-flow

With suddein fury all the fertile playne,

And the sad husbandmans long hope doth throw

A downe the streame, and all his vowes make vayne,

Nor bounds nor banks his headlong ruine may sustayne.

Upon his shield their heaped hayle he bore,

And with his sword disperst the raskall flockes,

Which fled a sonder, and him fell before,

As withered leaves drop from their dryed stockes,

When the wroth western wind does reave their locks;

And under neath him his courageous steed,

The fierce Spumador, trode them downe like docks;

The fierce Spumador borne of heavenly seed,

Such as Laomedon of Phæbus race did breed.

Which suddeine horrour and confused cry

When as their capteine heard, in haste he yode,

The cause to weet, and fault to remedy:

Upon a tygre swift and fierce he rode,

That as the winde ran underneath his lode,

Whiles his long legs nigh raught unto the ground:

Full large he was of limbe, and shoulders brode,

But of such subtile substance and unsound,

That like a ghost he seem’d, whose grave-clothes were unbound.

And in his hand a bended bow was seene,

And many arrowes under his right side,

All deadly daungerous, all cruell keene,

Headed with flint, and fethers bloody dide,

Such as the Indians in their quivers hide:

Those could he well direct and streight as line,

And bid them strike the marke which he had eyde;

Ne was there salve, ne was there medicine,

That mote recure their wounds, so inly they did tine.

As pale and wan as ashes was his looke,

His body leane and meagre as a rake,

And skin all withered like a dryed rooke,

Thereto as cold and drery as a snake,

That seemd to tremble evermore, and quake:

All in a canvas thin he was bedight,

And girded with a belt of twisted brake:

Upon his head he wore an helmet light,

Made of a dead mans skull, that seemd a ghastly sight.

Maleger was his name; and after him

There follow’d fast at hand two wicked hags,

With hoary lockes all loose and visage grim;

Their feet unshod, their bodies wrapt in rags,

And both as swift on foot as chased stags;

And yet the one her other legge had lame,

Which with a staffe, all full of litle snags,

She did support, and Impotence her name:

But th’ other was Impatience, arm’d with raging flame.

Soone as the carle from far the Prince espyde

Glistring in armes and warlike ornament,

His beast he felly prickt on either syde,

And his mischievous bow full readie bent,

With which at him a cruell shaft he sent:

But he was warie, and it warded well

Upon his shield, that it no further went,

But to the ground the idle quarrell fell:

Then he another and another did expell.

Which to prevent, the Prince his mortall speare

Soone to him raught, and fierce at him did ride,

To be avenged of that shot whyleare:

But he was not so hardy to abide

That bitter stownd, but turning quicke aside

His light-foot beast, fled fast away for feare:

Whom to poursue, the infant after hide,

So fast as his good courser could him beare;

But labour lost it was to weene approch him neare.

For as the winged wind his tigre fled,

That vew of eye could scarse him over take,

Ne scarse his feet on ground were seene to tred:

Through hils and dales he speedy way did make,

Ne hedge ne ditch his readie passage brake,

And in his flight the villein turn’d his face,

(As wonts the Tartar by the Caspian lake,

When as the Russian him in fight does chace)

Unto his tygres taile, and shot at him apace.

Apace he shot, and yet he fled apace,

Still as the greedy knight nigh to him drew,

And oftentimes he would relent his pace,

That him his foe more fiercely should poursew:

Who when his uncouth manner he did vew,

He gan avize to follow him no more,

But keepe his standing, and his shaftes eschew,

Untill he quite had spent his perlous store,

And then assayle him fresh, ere he could shift for more.

But that lame hag, still as abroad he strew

His wicked arrowes, gathered them againe,

And to him brought, fresh batteill to renew:

Which he espying, cast her to restraine

From yielding succour to that cursed swaine,

And her attaching, thought her hands to tye;

But soone as him dismounted on the plaine

That other hag did far away espye

Binding her sister, she to him ran hastily;

And catching hold of him, as downe he lent,

Him backeward overthrew, and downe him stayd

With their rude handes and gryesly graplement,

Till that the villein, comming to their ayd,

Upon him fell, and lode upon him layd:

Full litle wanted, but he had him slaine,

And of the battell balefull end had made,

Had not his gentle squire beheld his paine,

And commen to his reskew, ere his bitter bane.

So greatest and most glorious thing on ground

May often need the helpe of weaker hand;

So feeble is mans state, and life unsound,

That in assuraunce it may never stand,

Till it dissolved be from earthly band.

Proofe be thou, Prince, the prowest man alyve,

And noblest borne of all in Britayne land;

Yet thee fierce Fortune did so nearely drive,

That had not Grace thee blest, thou shouldest not survive.

The squyre arriving, fiercely in his armes

Snatcht first the one, and then the other jade,

His chiefest letts and authors of his harmes,

And them perforce withheld with threatned blade,

Least that his lord they should behinde invade;

The whiles the Prince, prickt with reprochful shame,

As one awakte out of long slombring shade,

Revivyng thought of glory and of fame,

United all his powres to purge him selfe from blame.

Like as a fire, the which in hollow cave

Hath long bene underkept and down supprest,

With murmurous disdayne doth inly rave,

And grudge, in so streight prison to be prest,

At last breakes forth with furious unrest,

And strives to mount unto his native seat;

All that did earst it hinder and molest,

Yt now devoures with flames and scorching heat,

And carries into smoake with rage and horror great.

So mightely the Briton Prince him rouzd

Out of his holde, and broke his caytive bands;

And as a beare, whom angry curres have touzd,

Having off-shakt them, and escapt their hands,

Becomes more fell, and all that him with stands

Treads down and overthrowes. Now had the carle

Alighted from his tigre, and his hands

Discharged of his bow and deadly quar’le,

To seize upon his foe flatt lying on the marle.

Which now him turnd to disavantage deare,

For neither can he fly, nor other harme,

But trust unto his strength and manhood meare,

Sith now he is far from his monstrous swarme,

And of his weapons did him selfe disarme.

The knight, yet wrothfull for his late disgrace,

Fiercely advaunst his valorous right arme,

And him so sore smott with his yron mace,

That groveling to the ground he fell, and fild his place.

Wel weened hee that field was then his owne,

And all his labor brought to happy end,

When suddein up the villeine overthrowne

Out of his swowne arose, fresh to contend,

And gan him selfe to second battaill bend,

As hurt he had not beene. Thereby there lay

An huge great stone, which stood upon one end,

And had not bene removed many a day;

Some land-marke seemd to bee, or signe of sundry way.

The same he snatcht, and with exceeding sway

Threw at his foe, who was right well aware

To shonne the engin of his meant decay;

It booted not to thinke that throw to beare,

But grownd he gave, and lightly lept areare:

Efte fierce retourning, as a faulcon fayre,

That once hath failed of her souse full neare,

Remounts againe into the open ayre,

And unto better fortune doth her selfe prepayre.

So brave retourning, with his brandisht blade,

He to the carle him selfe agayn addrest,

And strooke at him so sternely, that he made

An open passage through his riven brest,

That halfe the steele behind his backe did rest;

Which drawing backe, he looked ever more

When the hart blood should gush out of his chest,

Or his dead corse should fall upon the flore;

But his dead corse upon the flore fell nathemore.

Ne drop of blood appeared shed to bee,

All were the wownd so wide and wonderous,

That through his carcas one might playnly see.

Halfe in amaze with horror hideous,

And halfe in rage to be deluded thus,

Again through both the sides he strooke him quight,

That made his spright to grone full piteous:

Yet nathemore forth fled his groning spright,

But freshly as at first, prepard himselfe to fight.

Thereat he smitten was with great affright,

And trembling terror did his hart apall,

Ne wist he what to thinke of that same sight,

Ne what to say, ne what to doe at all;

He doubted least it were some magicall

Illusion, that did beguile his sense,

Or wandring ghost, that wanted funerall,

Or aery spirite under false pretence,

Or hellish feend raysd up through divelish science.

His wonder far exceeded reasons reach,

That he began to doubt his dazeled sight,

And oft of error did him selfe appeach:

Flesh without blood, a person without spright,

Wounds without hurt, a body without might,

That could doe harme, yet could not harmed bee,

That could not die, yet seemd a mortall wight,

That was most strong in most infirmitee;

Like did he never heare, like did he never see.

A while he stood in this astonishment,

Yet would he not for all his great dismay

Give over to effect his first intent,

And th’ utmost meanes of victory assay,

Or th’ utmost yssew of his owne decay.

His owne good sword Mordure, that never fayld

At need till now, he lightly threw away,

And his bright shield, that nought him now avayld,

And with his naked hands him forcibly assayld.

Twixt his two mighty armes him up he snatcht,

And crusht his carcas so against his brest,

That the disdainfull sowle he thence dispatcht,

And th’ ydle breath all utterly exprest:

Tho, when he felt him dead, adowne he kest

The lumpish corse unto the sencelesse grownd;

Adowne he kest it with so puissant wrest,

That backe againe it did alofte rebownd,

And gave against his mother Earth a gronefull sownd.

As when Joves harnesse-bearing bird from hye

Stoupes at a flying heron with proud disdayne,

The stone-dead quarrey falls so forciblye,

That yt rebownds against the lowly playne,

A second fall redoubling backe agayne.

Then thought the Prince all peril sure was past,

And that he victor onely did remayne;

No sooner thought, then that the carle as fast

Gan heap huge strokes on him, as ere he down was cast.

Nigh his wits end then woxe th’ amazed knight,

And thought his labor lost and travell vayne,

Against this lifelesse shadow so to fight:

Yet life he saw, and felt his mighty mayne,

That, whiles he marveild still, did still him payne:

Forthy he gan some other wayes advize,

How to take life from that dead-living swayne,

Whom still he marked freshly to arize

From th’ earth, and from her womb new spirits to reprize.

He then remembred well, that had bene sayd,

How th’ Earth his mother was, and first him bore;

Shee eke, so often as his life decayd,

Did life with usury to him restore,

And reysd him up much stronger then before,

So soone as he unto her wombe did fall;

Therefore to grownd he would him cast no more,

Ne him committ to grave terrestriall,

But beare him farre from hope of succour usuall.

Tho up he caught him twixt his puissant hands,

And having scruzd out of his carrion corse

The lothfull life, now loosd from sinfull hands,

Upon his shoulders carried him perforse

Above three furlongs, taking his full course,

Untill he came unto a standing lake:

Him thereinto he threw without remorse,

Ne stird, till hope of life did him forsake:

So end of that carles dayes, and his owne paynes did make.

Which when those wicked hags from far did spye,

Like two mad dogs they ran about the lands;

And th’ one of them with dreadfull yelling crye,

Throwing away her broken chaines and bands,

And having quencht her burning fier brands,

Hedlong her selfe did cast into that lake;

But Impotence with her owne wilfull hands

One of Malegers cursed darts did take,

So ryv’d her trembling hart, and wicked end did make.

Thus now alone he conquerour remaines:

Tho, cumming to his squyre, that kept his steed,

Thought to have mounted, but his feeble vaines

Him faild thereto, and served not his need,

Through losse of blood, which from his wounds did bleed,

That he began to faint, and life decay:

But his good squyre, him helping up with speed,

With stedfast hand upon his horse did stay,

And led him to the castle by the beaten way.

Where many groomes and squyres ready were

To take him from his steed full tenderly,

And eke the fayrest Alma mett him there

With balme and wine and costly spicery,

To comfort him in his infirmity:

Eftesoones shee causd him up to be convayd,

And of his armes despoyled easily,

In sumptuous bed shee made him to be layd,

And al the while his wounds were dressing, by him stayd.