The Faerie Queene · Book V · Canto 5 2 (1/2)

Nought is more honorable to a knight,

Ne better doth beseeme brave chevalry,

Then to defend the feeble in their right,

And wrong redresse in such as wend awry:

Whilome those great Heroes got thereby

Their greatest glory for their rightfull deedes,

And place deserved with the Gods on hy.

Herein the noblesse of this knight exceedes,

Who now to perils great for justice sake proceedes.

To which as he now was uppon the way,

He chaunst to meet a Dwarfe in hasty course,

Whom he requir’d his forward hast to stay,

Till he of tidings mote with him discourse.

Loth was the Dwarfe, yet did he stay perforse,

And gan of sundry newes his store to tell,

As to his memory they had recourse;

But chiefly of the fairest Florimell,

How she was found againe, and spousde to Marinell.

For this was Dony, Florimels owne Dwarfe,

Whom having lost, (as ye have heard whyleare)

And finding in the way the scattred scarfe,

The fortune of her life long time did feare:

But of her health when Artegall did heare,

And safe returne, he was full inly glad,

And askt him where and when her bridale cheare

Should be solemniz’d; for, if time he had,

He would be there, and honor to her spousall ad.

“Within three daies,” (quoth he) “as I do here,

It will be at the Castle of the Strond;

What time, if naught me let, I will be there

To doe her service so as I am bond:

But in my way, a little here beyond,

A cursed cruell Sarazin doth wonne,

That keepes a Bridges passage by strong hond,

And many errant Knights hath there fordonne;

That makes all men for feare that passage for to shonne.”

“What mister wight,” (quoth he) “and how far hence

Is he, that doth to travellers such harmes?”

“He is” (said he) “a man of great defence,

Expert in battell and in deedes of armes;

And more emboldned by the wicked charmes,

With which his daughter doth him still support;

Having great Lordships got and goodly farmes,

Through strong oppression of his powre extort,

By which he stil them holds, and keepes with strong effort.

“And dayly he his wrongs encreaseth more;

For never wight he lets to passe that way

Over his Bridge, albee he rich or poore,

But he him makes his passage-penny pay:

Else he doth hold him backe or beat away.

Thereto he hath a groome of evill guize,

Whose scalp is bare, that bondage doth bewray,

Which pols and pils the poore in piteous wize;

But he him selfe uppon the rich doth tyrannize.

“His name is hight Pollentè, rightly so,

For that he is so puissant and strong,

That with his powre he all doth overgo,

And makes them subject to his mighty wrong;

And some by sleight he eke doth underfong.

For on a Bridge he custometh to fight,

Which is but narrow, but exceeding long;

And in the same are many trap-fals pight,

Through which the rider downe doth fall through oversight.

“And underneath the same a river flowes

That is both swift and dangerous deepe withall;

Into the which whom so he overthrowes,

All destitute of helpe doth headlong fall;

But he him selfe through practise usuall,

Leapes forth into the floud, and there assaies

His foe confused through his sodaine fall,

That horse and man he equally dismaies,

And either both them drownes, or trayterously slaies.

“Then doth he take the spoile of them at will,

And to his daughter brings, that dwels thereby;

Who all that comes doth take, and therewith fill

The coffers of her wicked threasury,

Which she with wrongs hath heaped up so hy

That many Princes she in wealth exceedes,

And purchast all the countrey lying ny

With the revenue of her plenteous meedes:

Her name is Munera, agreeing with her deedes.

“Thereto she is full faire, and rich attired,

With golden hands and silver feete beside,

That manv Lords have her to wife desired,

But she them all despiseth for great pride.”

“Now by my life,” (sayd he) “and God to guide,

None other way will I this day betake,

But by that Bridge whereas he doth abide:

Therefore me thither lead.” No more he spake,

But thitherward forthright his ready way did make.

Unto the place he came within a while,

Where on the Bridge he ready armed saw

The Sarazin, awayting for some spoile:

When as they to the passage gan to draw,

A villaine to them came with scull all raw,

That passage money did of them require,

According to the custome of their law:

To whom he aunswerd wroth, “Loe! there thy hire;”

And with that word him strooke, that streight he did expire.

Which when the Pagan saw he wexed wroth,

And streight him selfe unto the fight addrest,

Ne was Sir Artegall behinde: so both

Together ran with ready speares in rest.

Right in the midst, whereas they brest to brest

Should meete, a trap was letten downe to fall

Into the floud: streight leapt the Carle unblest,

Well weening that his foe was falne withall;

But he was well aware, and leapt before his fall.

There being both together in the floud,

They each at other tyrannously flew;

Ne ought the water cooled their whot bloud,

But rather in them kindled choler new:

But there the Paynim, who that use well knew

To fight in water, great advantage had,

That oftentimes him nigh he overthrew:

And eke the courser whereuppon he rad

Could swim like to a fish, whiles he his backe bestrad.

Which oddes when as Sir Artegall espide,

He saw no way but close with him in hast;

And to him driving strongly downe the tide

Uppon his iron coller griped fast,

That with the straint his wesand nigh he brast.

There they together strove and struggled long

Either the other from his steede to cast;

Ne ever Artegall his griple strong

For any thing wold slacke, but still upon him hong.

As when a Dolphin and a Sele are met

In the wide champian of the Ocean plaine,

With cruell chaufe their courages they whet,

The maysterdome of each by force to gaine,

And dreadfull battaile twixt them do darraine:

They snuf, they snort, they bounce, they rage, they rore,

That all the sea, disturbed with their traine,

Doth frie with fome above the surges hore.

Such was betwixt these two the troublesome uprore.

So Artegall at length him forst forsake

His horses backe for dread of being drownd,

And to his handy swimming him betake.

Eftsoones him selfe he from his hold unbownd,

And then no ods at all in him he fownd;

For Artegall in swimming skilfull was,

And durst the depth of any water sownd.

So ought each Knight, that use of perill has,

In swimming be expert, through waters force to pas.

Then very doubtfull was the warres event,

Uncertaine whether had the better side;

For both were skild in that experiment,

And both in armes well traind, and throughly tride:

But Artegall was better breath’d beside,

And towards th’end grew greater in his might,

That his faint foe no longer could abide

His puissance, ne beare him selfe upright;

But from the water to the land betooke his flight.

But Artegall pursewd him still so neare

With bright Chrysaor in his cruell hand,

That as his head he gan a litle reare

Above the brincke to tread upon the land,

He smote it off, that tumbling on the strand

It bit the earth for very fell despight,

And gnashed with his teeth, as if he band

High God, whose goodnesse he despaired quight,

Or curst the hand which did that vengeance on him dight.

His corps was carried downe along the Lee,

Whose waters with his filthy bloud it stayned;

But his blasphemous head, that all might see,

He pitcht upon a pole on high ordayned;

Where many years it afterwards remayned,

To be a mirrour to all mighty men,

In whose right hands great power is contayned,

That none of them the feeble over-ren,

But alwaies doe their powre within just compasse pen.

That done, unto the Castle he did wend,

In which the Paynims daughter did abide,

Guarded of many which did her defend:

Of whom he entrance sought, but was denide,

And with reprochfull blasphemy defide,

Beaten with stones downe from the battilment,

That he was forced to withdraw aside,

And bad his servant Talus to invent

Which way he enter might without endangerment.

Eftsoones his Page drew to the Castle gate,

And with his iron flale at it let flie,

That all the warders it did sore amate,

The which erewhile spake so reprochfully,

And made them stoupe that looked earst so hie.

Yet still he bet and bounst uppon the dore,

And thundred strokes thereon so hideouslie,

That all the peece he shaked from the flore,

And filled all the house with feare and great uprore.

With noise whereof the Lady forth appeared

Uppon the Castle wall; and, when she saw

The daungerous state in which she stood, she feared

The sad effect of her neare overthrow;

And gan entreat that iron man below

To cease his outrage, and him faire besought;

Sith neither force of stones which they did throw,

Nor powr of charms, which she against him wrought,

Might otherwise prevaile, or make him cease for ought.

But, when as yet she saw him to proceede

Unmov’d with praiers or with piteous thought,

She ment him to corrupt with goodly meede;

And causde great sackes with endlesse riches fraught

Unto the battilment to be upbrought,

And powred forth over the Castle wall,

That she might win some time, though dearly bought,

Whilest he to gathering of the gold did fall:

But he was nothing mov’d nor tempted therewithall:

But still continu’d his assault the more,

And layd on load with his huge yron flaile,

That at the length he has yrent the dore,

And made way for his maister to assaile;

Who being entred, nought did then availe

For wight against his powre them selves to reare.

Each one did flie; their hearts began to faile,

And hid them selves in corners here and there;

And eke their dame halfe dead did hide her self for feare.

Long they her sought, yet no where could they finde her,

That sure they ween’d she was escapt away;

But Talus, that could like a lime-hound winde her,

And all things secrete wisely could bewray,

At length found out whereas she hidden lay

Under an heape of gold. Thence he her drew

By the faire lockes, and fowly did array

Withouten pitty of her goodly hew,

That Artegall him selfe her seemelesse plight did rew.

Yet for no pitty would he change the course

Of Justice, which in Talus hand did lye;

Who rudely hayld her forth without remorse,

Still holding up her suppliant hands on hye,

And kneeling at his feete submissively:

But he her suppliant hands, those hands of gold,

And eke her feete, those feete of silver trye,

Which sought unrighteousnesse, and justice sold,

Chopt off, and nayld on high that all might them behold.

Her selfe then tooke he by the sclender wast,

In vaine loud crying, and into the flood

Over the Castle wall adowne her cast,

And there her drowned in the durty mud;

But the streame washt away her guilty blood.

Thereafter all that mucky pelfe he tooke,

The spoile of peoples evil gotten good,

The which her sire had scrap’t by hooke and crooke,

And burning all to ashes powr’d it downe the brooke.

And lastly all that Castle quite he raced,

Even from the sole of his foundation,

And all the hewen stones thereof defaced,

That there mote be no hope of reparation,

Nor memory thereof to any nation.

All which when Talus throughly had perfourmed,

Sir Artegall undid the evill fashion,

And wicked customes of that Bridge refourmed;

Which done, unto his former journey he retourned:

In which they measur’d mickle weary way,

Till that at length nigh to the sea they drew;

By which as they did travell on a day,

They saw before them, far as they could vew,

Full many people gathered in a crew;

Whose great assembly they did much admire,

For never there the like resort they knew.

So towardes them they coasted, to enquire

What thing so many nations met did there desire.

There they beheld a mighty Gyant stand

Upon a rocke, and holding forth on hie

An huge great paire of ballance in his hand,

With which he boasted, in his surquedrie,

That all the world he would weigh equallie,

If ought he had the same to counterpoys;

For want whereof he weighed vanity,

And fild his ballaunce full of idle toys:

Yet was admired much of fooles, women, and boys.

He sayd that he would all the earth uptake

And all the sea, divided each from either:

So would he of the fire one ballaunce make,

And one of th’ayre, without or wind or wether:

Then would he ballaunce heaven and hell together,

And all that did within them all containe,

Of all whose weight he would not misse a fether:

And looke what surplus did of each remaine,

He would to his owne part restore the same againe:

For-why, he sayd, they all unequall were,

And had encroched upon others share;

Like as the sea (which plaine he shewed there)

Had worne the earth; so did the fire the aire;

So all the rest did others parts empaire,

And so were realmes and nations run awry.

All which he undertooke for to repaire,

In sort as they were formed aunciently,

And all things would reduce unto equality.

Therefore the vulgar did about him flocke,

And cluster thicke unto his leasings vaine,

Like foolish flies about an hony-crocke;

In hope by him great benefite to gaine,

And uncontrolled freedome to obtaine.

All which when Artegall did see and heare,

How he misled the simple peoples traine,

In sdeignfull wize he drew unto him neare,

And thus unto him spake, without regard or feare.

“Thou that presum’st to weigh the world anew,

And all things to an equall to restore,

Instead of right me seemes great wrong dost shew,

And far above thy forces pitch to sore;

For ere thou limit what is lesse or more

In every thing, thou oughtest first to know

What was the poyse of every part of yore:

And looke then how much it doth overflow

Or faile thereof, so much is more then just to trow.

“For at the first they all created were

In goodly measure by their Makers might;

And weighed out in ballaunces so nere,

That not a dram was missing of their right:

The earth was in the middle centre pight,

In which it doth immoveable abide,

Hemd in with waters like a wall in sight,

And they with aire, that not a drop can slide:

Al which the heavens containe, and in their courses guide.

“Such heavenly justice doth among them raine,

That every one doe know their certaine bound,

In which they doe these many yeares remaine,

And mongst them al no change hath yet beene found;

But if thou now shouldst weigh them new in pound,

We are not sure they would so long remaine:

All change is perillous, and all chaunce unsound.

Therefore leave off to weigh them all againe,

Till we may be assur’d they shall their course retaine.”

“Thou foolishe Elfe,” (said then the Gyant wroth)

“Seest not how badly all things present bee,

And each estate quite out of order goth?

The sea it selfe doest thou not plainely see

Encroch uppon the land there under thee?

And th’earth it selfe how daily its encreast

By all that dying to it turned be:

Were it not good that wrong were then surceast,

And from the most that some were given to the least?