The Faerie Queene · Book I · Canto 1 4 (2/2)

Who, when the shamed shield of slaine Sansfoy

He spide with that same Faery champions page,

Bewraying him that did of late destroy

His eldest brother; burning all with rage,

He to him lept, and that same envious gage

Of victors glory from him snacht away:

But th’Elfin knight, which ought that warlike wage,

Disdaind to loose the meed he wonne in fray;

And, him rencountring fierce, reskewd the noble pray.

Therewith they gan to hurtlen greedily,

Redoubted battaile ready to darrayne,

And clash their shields, and shake their swerds on hy,

That with their sturre they troubled all the traine;

Till that great Queene, upon eternall paine

Of high displeasure that ensewen might,

Commaunded them their fury to refraine;

And, if that either to that shield had right,

In equall lists they should the morrow next it fight.

“Ah dearest Dame,” quoth then the Paynim bold,

“Pardon the error of enraged wight,

Whome great griefe made forgett the raines to hold

Of reasons rule, to see this recreaunt knight,

No knight, but treachour full of false despight

And shameful treason, who through guile hath slayn

The prowest knight that ever field did fight,

Even stout Sansfoy, (O who can then refrayn?)

Whose shield he beares renverst, the more to heap disdayn.

“And, to augment the glorie of his guile,

His dearest love, the faire Fidessa, loe!

Is there possessed of the traytour vile;

Who reapes the harvest sowen by his foe,

Sowen in bloodie field, and bought with woe:

That brothers hand shall dearely well requight,

So be, O Queene! you equall favour showe.”

Him litle answerd th’angry Elfin knight;

He never meant with words, but swords, to plead his right:

But threw his gauntlet, as a sacred pledge

His cause in combat the next day to try:

So been they parted both, with harts on edge

To be aveng’d each on his enimy.

That night they pas in joy and jollity,

Feasting and courting both in bowre and hall;

For Steward was excessive Gluttony,

That of his plenty poured forth to all

Which doen, the Chamberlain, Slowth, did to rest them call.

Now whenas darkesome night had all displayd

Her cole-blacke curtein over brightest skye;

The warlike youthes, on dayntie couches layd,

Did chace away sweet sleepe from sluggish eye,

To muse on meanes of hoped victory.

But whenas Morpheus had with leaden mace

Arrested all that courtly company,

Uprose Duessa from her resting place,

And to the Paynims lodging comes with silent pace.

Whom broad awake she findes, in troublous fitt,

Fore-casting how his foe he might annoy;

And him amoves with speaches seeming fitt:

“Ah deare Sansjoy, next dearest to Sansfoy,

Cause of my new griefe, cause of my new joy;

Joyous to see his ymage in mine eye,

And greevd to thinke how foe did him destroy,

That was the flowre of grace and chevalrye;

Lo! his Fidessa, to thy secret faith I flye.”

With gentle wordes he can her fayrely greet,

And bad say on the secrete of her hart.

Then, sighing soft; “I learne that litle sweet

Oft tempred is,” (quoth she,) “with muchell smart:

For since my brest was launcht with lovely dart

Of deare Sansfoy, I never joyed howre,

But in eternall woes my weaker hart

Have wasted, loving him with all my powre,

And for his sake have felt full many an heavie stowre.

“At last, when perils all I weened past,

And hop’d to reape the crop of all my care,

Into new woes unweeting I was cast

By this false faytor, who unworthie ware

His worthie shield; whom he with guilefull snare

Entrapped slew, and brought to shamefull grave:

Me, silly maid, away with him he bare,

And ever since hath kept in darksom cave,

For that I would not yeeld that to Sansfoy I gave.

“But since faire Sunne hath sperst that lowring clowd,

And to my loathed life now shewes some light,

Under your beames I will me safely shrowd

From dreaded storme of his disdainfull spight:

To you th’inheritance belonges by right

Of brothers prayse, to you eke longes his love.

Let not his love, let not his restlesse spright,

Be unreveng’d, that calles to you above

From wandring Stygian shores, where it doth endlesse move.”

Thereto said he, “Faire Dame, be nought dismaid

For sorrowes past; their griefe is with them gone:

Ne yet of present perill be affraid,

For needlesse feare did never vantage none;

And helplesse hap it booteth not to mone.

Dead is Sansfoy, his vitall paines are past,

Though greeved ghost for vengeance deep do grone:

He lives that shall him pay his dewties last,

And guiltie Elfin blood shall sacrifice in hast.”

“O! but I feare the fickle freakes,” (quoth shee)

“Of fortune false, and oddes of armes in field.”

“Why, dame,” (quoth he) “what oddes can ever bee,

Where both doe fight alike, to win or yield?”

“Yea, but,” (quoth she) “he beares a charmed shield,

And eke enchaunted armes, that none can perce;

Ne none can wound the man that does them wield.”

“Charmed or enchaunted,” answerd he then ferce,

“I no whitt reck; ne you the like need to reherce.

“But, faire Fidessa, sithens fortunes guile,

Or enimies powre, hath now captived you,

Returne from whence ye came, and rest a while,

Till morrow next that I the Elfe subdew,

And with Sansfoyes dead dowry you endew.”

“Ah me! that is a double death,” (she said)

“With proud foes sight my sorrow to renew:

Where ever yet I be, my secret aide

Shall follow you.” So, passing forth, she him obaid.