Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

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

The Faerie Queene

Book V. The Legend of Artegall. Canto XII

O SACRED hunger of ambitious mindes,

And impotent desire of men to raine,

Whom neither dread of God, that devils bindes,

Nor lawes of men, that common weales containe,

Nor bands of nature, that wilde beastes restraine,

Can keepe from outrage and from doing wrong,

Where they may hope a kingdome to obtaine.

No faith so firme, no trust can be so strong,

No love so lasting then, that may enduren long.

Witnesse may Burbon be, whom all the bands

Which may a knight assure had surely bound,

Untill the love of lordship and of lands

Made him become most faithlesse and unsound:

And witnesse be Gerioneo found,

Who for like cause faire Belge did oppresse,

And right and wrong most cruelly confound:

And so be now Grantorto, who no lesse

Then all the rest burst out to all outragiousnesse.

Gainst whom Sir Artegall, long having since

Taken in hand th’ exploit, being theretoo

Appointed by that mightie Faerie prince,

Great Gloriane, that tyrant to fordoo,

Through other great adventures hethertoo

Had it forslackt. But now time drawing ny,

To him assynd, her high beheast to doo,

To the sea shore he gan his way apply,

To weete if shipping readie he mote there descry.

Tho, when they came to the sea coast, they found

A ship all readie (as good fortune fell)

To put to sea, with whom they did compound

To passe them over, where them list to tell:

The winde and weather served them so well,

That in one day they with the coast did fall;

Whereas they readie found, them to repell,

Great hostes of men in order martiall,

Which them forbad to land, and footing did forstall.

But nathemore would they from land refraine,

But when as nigh unto the shore they drew,

That foot of man might sound the bottome plaine,

Talus into the sea did forth issew,

Though darts from shore and stones they at him threw;

And wading through the waves with stedfast sway,

Maugre the might of all those troupes in vew,

Did win the shore, whence he them chast away,

And made to fly, like doves whom the eagle doth affray.

The whyles Sir Artegall with that old knight

Did forth descend, there being none them neare,

And forward marched to a towne in sight.

By this came tydings to the tyrants eare,

By those which earst did fly away for feare,

Of their arrivall: wherewith troubled sore,

He all his forces streight to him did reare,

And forth issuing with his scouts afore,

Meant them to have incountred, ere they left the shore.

But ere he marched farre, he with them met,

And fiercely charged them with all his force;

But Talus sternely did upon them set,

And brusht and battred them without remorse,

That on the ground he left full many a corse;

Ne any able was him to withstand,

But he them overthrew both man and horse,

That they lay scattred over all the land,

As thicke as doth the seede after the sowers hand.

Till Artegall, him seeing so to rage,

Willd him to stay, and signe of truce did make:

To which all harkning, did a while asswage

Their forces furie, and their terror slake;

Till he an herauld cald, and to him spake,

Willing him wend unto the tyrant streight,

And tell him that not for such slaughters sake

He thether came, but for to trie the right

Of fayre Irenaes cause with him in single fight:

And willed him for to reclayme with speed

His scattred people, ere they all were slaine,

And time and place convenient to agreed,

In which they two the combat might darraine.

Which message when Grantorto heard, full fayne

And glad he was the slaughter so to stay,

And pointed for the combat twixt them twayne

The morrow next, ne gave him longer day:

So sounded the retraite, and drew his folke away.

That night Sir Artegall did cause his tent

There to be pitched on the open plaine;

For he had given streight commaundement,

That none should dare him once to entertaine:

Which none durst breake, though many would right faine

For fayre Irena, whom they loved deare.

But yet old Sergis did so well him paine,

That from close friends, that dar’d not to appeare,

He all things did purvay, which for them needfull weare.

The morrow next, that was the dismall day

Appointed for Irenas death before,

So soone as it did to the world display

His chearefull face, and light to men restore,

The heavy mayd, to whom none tydings bore

Of Artegals arryvall, her to free,

Lookt up with eyes full sad and hart full sore;

Weening her lifes last howre then neare to bee,

Sith no redemption nigh she did nor heare nor see.

Then up she rose, and on her selfe did dight

Most squalid garments, fit for such a day,

And with dull countenance, and with doleful spright,

She forth was brought in sorrowfull dismay,

For to receive the doome of her decay.

But comming to the place, and finding there

Sir Artegall, in battailous array

Wayting his foe, it did her dead hart cheare,

And new life to her lent, in midst of deadly feare.

Like as a tender rose in open plaine,

That with untimely drought nigh withered was,

And hung the head, soone as few drops of raine

Thereon distill, and deaw her daintie face,

Gins to looke up, and with fresh wonted grace

Dispreds the glorie of her leaves gay;

Such was Irenas countenance, such her case,

When Artegall she saw in that array,

There wayting for the tyrant, till it was farre day.

Who came at length, with proud presumpteous gate,

Into the field, as if he fearelesse were,

All armed in a cote of yron plate,

Of great defence to ward the deadly feare,

And on his head a steele cap he did weare

Of colour rustie browne, but sure and strong;

And in his hand an huge polaxe did beare,

Whose steale was yron studded, but not long,

With which he wont to fight, to justifie his wrong.

Of stature huge and hideous he was,

Like to a giant for his monstrous hight,

And did in strength most sorts of men surpas,

Ne ever any found his match in might;

Thereto he had great skill in single fight:

His face was ugly and his countenance sterne,

That could have frayd one with the very sight,

And gaped like a gulfe when he did gerne,

That whether man or monster one could scarse discerne.

Soone as he did within the listes appeare,

With dreadfull looke he Artegall beheld,

As if he would have daunted him with feare,

And grinning griesly, did against him weld

His deadly weapon, which in hand he held.

But th’ Elfin swayne, that oft had seene like sight,

Was with his ghastly count’nance nothing queld,

But gan him streight to buckle to the fight,

And cast his shield about, to be in readie plight.

The trompets sound, and they together goe,

With dreadfull terror and with fell intent;

And their huge strokes full daungerously bestow,

To doe most dammage where as most they ment.

But with such force and furie violent

The tyrant thundred his thicke blowes so fast,

That through the yron walles their way they rent,

And even to the vitall parts they past,

Ne ought could them endure, but all they cleft or brast.

Which cruell outrage when as Artegall

Did well avize, thenceforth with warie heed

He shund his strokes, where ever they did fall,

And way did give unto their gracelesse speed:

As when a skilfull marriner doth reed

A storme approching, that doth perill threat,

He will not bide the daunger of such dread,

But strikes his sayles, and vereth his mainsheat,

And lends unto it leave the emptie ayre to beat.

So did the Faerie knight himselfe abeare,

And stouped oft, his head from shame to shield;

No shame to stoupe, ones head more high to reare,

And, much to gaine, a litle for to yield;

So stoutest knights doen oftentimes in field.

But still the tyrant sternely at him layd,

And did his yron axe so nimbly wield,

That many wounds into his flesh it made,

And with his burdenous blowes him sore did overlade.

Yet when as fit advantage he did spy,

The whiles the cursed felon high did reare

His cruell hand, to smite him mortally,

Under his stroke he to him stepping neare,

Right in the flanke him strooke with deadly dreare,

That the gore bloud, thence gushing grievously,

Did underneath him like a pond appeare,

And all his armour did with purple dye:

Thereat he brayed loud, and yelled dreadfully.

Yet the huge stroke, which he before intended,

Kept on his course, as he did it direct,

And with such monstrous poise adowne descended,

That seemed nought could him from death protect:

But he it well did ward with wise respect,

And twixt him and the blow his shield did cast,

Which thereon seizing, tooke no great effect,

But byting deepe therein did sticke so fast,

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

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

And all his powre applyed thereunto,

That he therewith the knight drew all about:

Nathlesse, for all that ever he could doe,

His axe he could not from his shield undoe.

Which Artegall perceiving, strooke no more,

But loosing soone his shield, did it forgoe,

And whiles he combred was therewith so sore,

He gan at him let drive more fiercely then afore.

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

He stroke him with Chrysaor on the hed,

That with the souse thereof full sore aghast,

He staggered to and fro in doubtfull sted.

Againe, whiles he him saw so ill bested,

He did him smite with all his might and maine,

That, falling, on his mother earth he fed:

Whom when he saw prostrated on the plaine,

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

Which when the people round about him saw,

They shouted all for joy of his successe,

Glad to be quit from that proud tyrants awe,

Which with strong powre did them long time oppresse;

And running all with greedie joyfulnesse

To faire Irena, at her feet did fall,

And her adored with due humblenesse,

As their true liege and princesse naturall;

And eke her champions glorie sounded over all.

Who streight her leading with meete majestie

Unto the pallace, where their kings did rayne,

Did her therein establish peaceablie,

And to her kingdomes seat restore agayne.

And all such persons as did late maintayne

That tyrants part, with close or open ayde,

He sorely punished with heavie payne;

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

Not one was left that durst her once have disobayd.

During which time that he did there remaine,

His studie was true justice how to deale,

And day and night employ’d his busie paine

How to reforme that ragged common-weale:

And that same yron man, which could reveale

All hidden crimes, through all that realme he sent,

To search out those that usd to rob and steale,

Or did rebell gainst lawfull government;

On whom he did inflict most grievous punishment.

But ere he could reforme it thoroughly,

He through occasion called was away

To Faerie court, that of necessity

His course of justice he was forst to stay,

And Talus to revoke from the right way,

In which he was that realme for to redresse.

But envies cloud still dimmeth vertues ray.

So having freed Irena from distresse,

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

Tho, as he backe returned from that land,

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

He had not passed farre upon the strand,

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

By the way side being together set;

Two griesly creatures; and, to that their faces

Most foule and filthie were, their garments yet,

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

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

The one of them, that elder did appeare,

With her dull eyes did seeme to looke askew,

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

Hung loose and loathsomely: thereto her hew

Was wan and leane, that all her teeth arew

And all her bones might through her cheekes be red;

Her lips were like raw lether, pale and blew,

And as she spake, therewith she slavered;

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

Her hands were foule and durtie, never washt

In all her life, with long nayles over raught,

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

Her cursed head, although it itched naught;

The other held a snake with venime fraught,

On which she fed and gnawed hungrily,

As if that long she had not eaten ought;

That round about her jawes one might descry

The bloudie gore and poyson dropping lothsomely.

Her name was Envie, knowen well thereby;

Whose nature is to grieve and grudge at all

That ever she sees doen prays-worthily,

Whose sight to her is greatest crosse may fall,

And vexeth so, that makes her eat her gall.

For when she wanteth other thing to eat,

She feedes on her owne maw unnaturall,

And of her owne foule entrayles makes her meat;

Meat fit for such a monsters monsterous dyeat.

And if she hapt of any good to heare,

That had to any happily betid,

Then would she inly fret, and grieve, and teare

Her flesh for felnesse, which she inward hid:

But if she heard of ill that any did,

Or harme that any had, then would she make

Great cheare, like one unto a banquet bid;

And in anothers losse great pleasure take,

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

The other nothing better was then shee;

Agreeing in bad will and cancred kynd,

But in bad maner they did disagree:

For what so Envie good or bad did fynd

She did conceale, and murder her owne mynd;

But this, what ever evill she conceived,

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

Yet this in all her words might be perceived,

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

For what soever good by any sayd

Or doen she heard, she would streightwayes invent

How to deprave, or slaunderously upbrayd,

Or to misconstrue of a mans intent,

And turne to ill the thing that well was ment.

Therefore she used often to resort

To common haunts, and companies frequent,

To hearke what any one did good report,

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

And if that any ill she heard of any,

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

And take great joy to publish it to many,

That every matter worse was for her melling.

Her name was hight Detraction, and her dwelling

Was neare to Envie, even her neighbour next;

A wicked hag, and Envy selfe excelling

In mischiefe: for her selfe she onely vext;

But this same both her selfe and others eke perplext.

Her face was ugly, and her mouth distort,

Foming with poyson round about her gils,

In which her cursed tongue full sharpe and short

Appear’d like aspis sting, that closely kils,

Or cruelly does wound, whom so she wils:

A distaffe in her other hand she had,

Upon the which she litle spinnes, but spils,

And faynes to weave false tales and leasings bad,

To throw amongst the good, which others had disprad.

These two now had themselves combynd in one,

And linckt together gainst Sir Artegall,

For whom they wayted as his mortall fone,

How they might make him into mischiefe fall,

For freeing from their snares Irena thrall:

Besides, unto themselves they gotten had

A monster, which the Blatant Beast men call,

A dreadfull feend, of gods and men ydrad,

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

Such were these hags, and so unhandsome drest:

Who when they nigh approching had espyde

Sir Artegall, return’d from his late quest,

They both arose, and at him loudly cryde,

As it had bene two shepheards curres had scryde

A ravenous wolfe amongst the scattered flocks.

And Envie first, as she that first him eyde,

Towardes him runs, and with rude flaring lockes

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

Then from her mouth the gobbet she does take,

The which whyleare she was so greedily

Devouring, even that halfe-gnawen snake,

And at him throwes it most despightfully.

The cursed serpent, though she hungrily

Earst chawd thereon, yet was not all so dead,

But that some life remayned secretly,

And as he past afore withouten dread,

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

Then th’ other comming neare, gan him revile

And fouly rayle, with all she could invent;

Saying that he had with unmanly guile

And foule abusion both his honour blent,

And that bright sword, the sword of Justice lent,

Had stayned with reprochfull crueltie

In guiltlesse blood of many an innocent:

As for Grandtorto, him with treacherie

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

Thereto the Blatant Beast, by them set on,

At him began aloud to barke and bay,

With bitter rage and fell contention,

That all the woods and rockes nigh to that way

Began to quake and tremble with dismay,

And all the aire rebellowed againe,

So dreadfully his hundred tongues did bray:

And evermore those hags them selves did paine

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

And still among, most bitter wordes they spake,

Most shamefull, most unrighteous, most untrew,

That they the mildest man alive would make

Forget his patience, and yeeld vengeaunce dew

To her, that so false sclaunders at him threw.

And more to make them pierce and wound more deepe,

She with the sting which in her vile tongue grew

Did sharpen them, and in fresh poyson steepe:

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

But Talus, hearing her so lewdly raile,

And speake so ill of him that well deserved,

Would her have chastiz’d with his yron flaile,

If her Sir Artegall had not preserved,

And him forbidden, who his heast observed.

So much the more at him still did she scold,

And stones did cast; yet he for nought would swerve

From his right course, but still the way did hold

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