The Faerie Queene · Book V · Canto 5 4 (1/2)

Whoso upon him selfe will take the skill

True Justice unto people to divide,

Had neede have mightie hands for to fulfill

That which he doth with righteous doome decide,

And for to maister wrong and puissant pride:

For vaine it is to deeme of things aright,

And makes wrong doers justice to deride,

Unlesse it be perform’d with dreadlesse might;

For powre is the right hand of Justice truely hight.

Therefore whylome to knights of great emprise

The charge of Justice given was in trust,

That they might execute her judgements wise,

And with their might beat downe licentious lust,

Which proudly did impugne her sentence just:

Whereof no braver president this day

Remaines on earth, preserv’d from yron rust

Of rude oblivion and long times decay,

Then this of Artegall, which here we have to say.

Who having lately left that lovely payre,

Enlincked fast in wedlockes loyall bond,

Bold Marinell with Florimell the fayre,

With whom great feast and goodly glee he fond,

Departed from the Castle of the Strond

To follow his adventures first intent,

Which long agoe he taken had in hond:

Ne wight with him for his assistance went,

But that great yron groome, his gard and government.

With whom, as he did passe by the sea shore,

He chaunst to come whereas two comely Squires,

Both brethren, whom one wombe together bore,

But stirred up with different desires,

Together strove, and kindled wrathfull fires:

And them beside two seemely damzells stood,

By all meanes seeking to asswage their ires;

Now with faire words, but words did little good,

Now with sharpe threats, but threats the more increast their mood.

And there before them stood a Coffer strong

Fast bound on every side with iron bands,

But seeming to have suffred mickle wrong,

Either by being wreckt uppon the sands,

Or being carried farre from forraine lands.

Seem’d that for it these Squires at ods did fall,

And bent against them selves their cruell hands;

But evermore those Damzells did forestall

Their furious encounter, and their fiercenesse pall.

But firmely fixt they were with dint of sword

And battailes doubtfull proofe their rights to try,

Ne other end their fury would afford,

But what to them Fortune would justify:

So stood they both in readinesse thereby

To joyne the combate with cruell intent,

When Artegall, arriving happily,

Did stay a while their greedy bickerment,

Till he had questioned the cause of their dissent.

To whom the elder did this aunswere frame:

“Then weete ye, Sir, that we two brethren be,

To whom our sire, Milesio by name,

Did equally bequeath his lands in fee,

Two Hands, which ye there before you see

Not farre in sea; of which the one appeares

But like a little Mount of small degree,

Yet was as great and wide, ere many yeares,

As that same other Isle, that greater bredth now beares.

“But tract of time, that all things doth decay,

And this devouring Sea, that naught doth spare,

The most part of my land hath washt away,

And throwne it up unto my brothers share:

So his encreased, but mine did empaire.

Before which time I lov’d, as was my lot,

That further mayd, hight Philtera the faire,

With whom a goodly doure I should have got,

And should have joyned bene to her in wedlocks knot.

“Then did my younger brother, Amidas,

Love that same other Damzell, Lucy bright,

To whom but little dowre allotted was:

Her vertue was the dowre that did delight.

What better dowre can to a dame be hight?

But now, when Philtra saw my lands decay

And former livelod fayle, she left me quight,

And to my brother did ellope streight way,

Who, taking her from me, his owne love left astray.

“She, seeing then her selfe forsaken so,

Through dolorous despaire which she conceyved,

Into the Sea her selfe did headlong throw,

Thinking to have her griefe by death bereaved:

But see how much her purpose was deceaved!

Whilest thus, amidst the billowes beating of her,

Twixt life and death long to and fro she weaved,

She chaunst unwares to light uppon this coffer,

Which to her in that daunger hope of life did offer.

“The wretched mayd, that earst desir’d to die,

When as the paine of death she tasted had,

And but halfe seene his ugly visnomie,

Gan to repent that she had beene so mad

For any death to chaunge life, though most bad:

And catching hold of this Sea-beaten chest,

(The lucky Pylot of her passage sad,)

After long tossing in the seas distrest,

Her weary barke at last uppon mine Isle did rest.

“Where I by chaunce then wandring on the shore

Did her espy, and through my good endevour

From dreadfull mouth of death, which threatned sore

Her to have swallow’d up, did helpe to save her.

She then, in recompence of that great favour

Which I on her bestowed, bestowed on me

The portion of that good which Fortune gave her,

Together with her selfe in dowry free;

Both goodly portions, but of both the better she.

“Yet in this coffer which she with her brought

Great threasure sithence we did finde contained,

Which as our owne we tooke, and so it thought;

But this same other Damzell since hath fained

That to her selfe that threasure appertained;

And that she did transport the same by sea,

To bring it to her husband new ordained,

But suffred cruell shipwracke by the way:

But whether it be so or no, I can not say.

“But, whether it indeede be so or no,

This doe I say, that what so good or ill

Or God or Fortune unto me did throw,

Not wronging any other by my will,

I hold mine owne, and so will hold it still.

And though my land he first did winne away,

And then my love, (though now it little skill)

Yet my good lucke he shall not likewise pray,

But I will it defend whilst ever that I may.”

So having sayd, the younger did ensew:

“Full true it is what so about our land

My brother here declared hath to you:

But not for it this ods twixt us doth stand.

But for this threasure throwne uppon his strand;

Which well I prove, as shall appeare by triall,

To be this maides with whom I fastned hand,

Known by good markes and perfect good espiall:

Therefore it ought be rendred her without deniall.”

When they thus ended had, the Knight began:

“Certes, your strife were easie to accord,

Would ye remit it to some righteous man.”

“Unto yourselfe,” said they, “we give our word,

To bide that judgement ye shall us afford.”

“Then for assurance to my doome to stand,

Under my foote let each lay downe his sword;

And then you shall my sentence understand.”

So each of them layd downe his sword out of his hand.

Then Artegall thus to the younger sayd:

“Now tell me, Amidas, if that ye may,

Your brothers land the which the sea hath layd

Unto your part, and pluckt from his away,

By what good right doe you withhold this day?”

“What other right,” (quoth he) “should you esteeme,

But that the sea it to my share did lay?”

“Your right is good,” (sayd he) “and so I deeme,

That what the sea unto you sent your own should seeme.”

Then turning to the elder thus he sayd:

“Now, Bracidas, let this likewise be showne;

Your brothers threasure, which from him is strayd,

Being the dowry of his wife well knowne,

By what right doe you claime to be your owne?”

“What other right,” (quoth he) “should you esteeme,

But that the sea hath it unto me throwne?”

“Your right is good,” (sayd he) “and so I deeme,

That what the sea unto you sent your own should seeme.

“For equall right in equall things doth stand;

For what the mighty Sea hath once possest,

And plucked quite from all possessors hand,

Whether by rage of waves that never rest,

Or else by wracke that wretches hath distrest,

He may dispose by his imperiall might,

As thing at randon left, to whom he list.

So, Amidas, the land was yours first hight;

And so the threasure yours is, Bracidas, by right.”

When he his sentence thus pronounced had,

Both Amidas and Philtra were displeased;

But Bracidas and Lucy were right glad,

And on the threasure by that judgement seased.

So was their discord by this doome appeased,

And each one had his right. Then Artegall,

When as their sharpe contention he had ceased,

Departed on his way, as did befall,

To follow his old quest, the which him forth did call.

So as he travelled uppon the way,

He chaunst to come, where happily he spide

A rout of many people farre away;

To whom his course he hastily applide,

To weete the cause of their assemblaunce wide:

To whom when he approched neare in sight,

(An uncouth sight) he plainely then descride

To be a troupe of women, warlike dight,

With weapons in their hands as ready for to fight.

And in the midst of them he saw a Knight,

With both his hands behinde him pinnoed hard,

And round about his necke an halter tight,

And ready for the gallow-tree prepard:

His face was covered, and his head was bar’d,

That who he was uneath was to descry;

And with full heavy heart with them he far’d,

Griev’d to the soule, and groning inwardly,

That he of womens hands so base a death should dy.

But they, like tyrants mercilesse, the more

Rejoyced at his miserable case,

And him reviled, and reproched sore

With bitter taunts and termes of vile disgrace.

Now when as Artegall, arriv’d in place,

Did aske what cause brought that man to decay,

They round about him gan to swarme apace,

Meaning on him their cruell hands to lay,

And to have wrought unwares some villanous assay.

But he was soone aware of their ill minde,

And drawing backe deceived their intent:

Yet, though him selfe did shame on womankinde

His mighty hand to shend, he Talus sent

To wrecke on them their follies hardyment:

Who with few sowces of his yron flale

Dispersed all their troupe incontinent,

And sent them home to tell a piteous tale

Of their vaine prowesse turned to their proper bale.

But that same wretched man, ordayned to die,

They left behind them, glad to be so quit:

Him Talus tooke out of perplexitie,

And horrour of fowle death for Knight unfit,

Who more then losse of life ydreaded it;

And, him restoring unto living light,

So brought unto his Lord, where he did sit

Beholding all that womanish weake fight;

Whom soone as he beheld he knew, and thus behight:

“Sir Turpine! haplesse man, what make you here?

Or have you lost your selfe and your discretion,

That ever in this wretched case ye were?

Or have ye yeelded you to proude oppression

Of womens powre, that boast of mens subjection?

Or else what other deadly dismall day

Is falne on you by heavens hard direction

That ye were runne so fondly far astray

As for to lead your selfe unto your owne decay?”

Much was the man confounded in his mind,

Partly with shame, and partly with dismay,

That all astonisht he him selfe did find,

And little had for his excuse to say,

But onely thus: “Most haplesse well ye may

Me justly terme, that to this shame am brought,

And made the scorne of Knighthod this same day:

But who can scape what his owne fate hath wrought?

The worke of heavens will surpasseth humaine thought.”

“Right true: but faulty men use oftentimes

To attribute their folly unto fate,

And lay on heaven the guilt of their owne crimes.

But tell, Sir Terpin, ne let you amate

Your misery, how fell ye in this state?”

“Then sith ye needs” (quoth he) “will know my shame,

And all the ill which chaunst to me of late,

I shortly will to you rehearse the same,

In hope ye will not turne misfortune to my blame.

“Being desirous (as all Knights are woont)

Through hard adventures deedes of armes to try,

And after fame and honour for to hunt,

I heard report that farre abrode did fly,

That a proud Amazon did late defy

All the brave Knights that hold of Maidenhead,

And unto them wrought all the villany

That she could forge in her malicious head,

Which some hath put to shame, and many done be dead.

“The cause, they say, of this her cruell hate

Is for the sake of Bellodant the bold,

To whom she bore most fervent love of late,

And wooed him by all the waies she could:

But when she saw at last that he ne would

For ought or nought be wonne unto her will,

She turn’d her love to hatred manifold,

And for his sake vow’d to doe all the ill

Which she could doe to Knights; which now she doth fulfill.

“For all those Knights, the which by force or guile

She doth subdue, she fowly doth entreate.

First, she doth them of warlike armes despoile,

And cloth in womens weedes: And then with threat

Doth them compell to worke, to earne their meat,

To spin, to card, to sew, to wash, to wring;

Ne doth she give them other thing to eat

But bread and water or like feeble thing,

Them to disable from revenge adventuring.

“But if through stout disdaine of manly mind

Any her proud observaunce will withstand,

Uppon that gibbet, which is there behind,

She causeth them be hang’d up out of hand;

In which condition I right now did stand:

For, being overcome by her in fight,

And put to that base service of her band,

I rather chose to die in lives despight,

Then lead that shamefull life, unworthy of a Knight.”

“How hight that Amazon?” (said Artegall)

“And where and how far hence does she abide?”

“Her name” (quoth he) “they Radigund doe call,

A Princesse of great powre and greater pride,

And Queene of Amazons, in armes well tride

And sundry battels, which she hath atchieved

With great successe, that her hath glorifide,

And made her famous, more then is believed;

Ne would I it have ween’d, had I not late it prieved.”

“Now sure,” (said he) “and by the faith that I

To Maydenhead and noble knighthood owe,

I will not rest till I her might doe trie,

And venge the shame that she to Knights doth show.

Therefore, Sir Terpin, from you lightly throw

This squalid weede, the patterne of dispaire,

And wend with me, that ye may see and know

How Fortune will your ruin’d name repaire

And knights of Maidenhead, whose praise she would empaire.”

With that, like one that hopelesse was depryv’d

From deathes dore at which he lately lay,

Those yron fetters wherewith he was gyv’d,

The badges of reproch, he threw away,

And nimbly did him dight to guide the way

Unto the dwelling of that Amazone:

Which was from thence not past a mile or tway,

A goodly citty and a mighty one,

The which, of her owne name, she called Radegone.

Where they arriving by the watchman were

Descried streight; who all the city warned

How that three warlike persons did appeare,

Of which the one him seem’d a Knight all armed,

And th’other two well likely to have harmed.

Eftsoones the people all to harnesse ran,

And like a sort of Bees in clusters swarmed:

Ere long their Queene her selfe, halfe like a man,

Came forth into the rout, and them t’array began.

And now the Knights, being arrived neare,

Did beat uppon the gates to enter in;

And at the Porter, skorning them so few,

Threw many threats, if they the towne did win,

To teare his flesh in peeces for his sin:

Which when as Radigund there comming heard,

Her heart for rage did grate, and teeth did grin.

She bad that streight the gates should be unbard,

And to them way to make with weapons well prepard.