The Faerie Queene · Book V · Canto 5 11 (1/2)

It often fals, in course of common life,

That right long time is overborne of wrong

Through avarice, or powre, or guile, or strife,

That weakens her, and makes her party strong;

But Justice, though her dome she doe prolong,

Yet at the last she will her owne cause right:

As by sad Beigè seemes; whose wrongs though long

She suffred, yet at length she did requight,

And sent redresse thereof by this brave Briton Knight.

Whereof when newes was to that Tyrant brought,

How that the Lady Belgè now had found

A Champion, that had with his Champion fought,

And laid his Seneschall low on the ground,

And eke him selfe did threaten to confound;

He gan to burne in rage, and friese in feare,

Doubting sad end of principle unsound:

Yet, sith he heard but one that did appeare,

He did him selfe encourage and take better cheare.

Nathelesse him selfe he armed all in hast,

And forth he far’d with all his many bad,

Ne stayed step, till that he came at last

Unto the Castle which they conquerd had:

There with huge terrour, to be more ydrad,

He sternely marcht before the Castle gate,

And, with bold vaunts and ydle threatning, bad

Deliver him his owne, ere yet too late,

To which they had no right, nor any wrongfull state.

The Prince staid not his aunswere to devize,

But, opening streight the Sparre, forth to him came,

Full nobly mounted in right warlike wize;

And asked him, if that he were the same,

Who all that wrong unto that wofull Dame

So long had done, and from her native land

Exiled her, that all the world spake shame.

He boldly aunswerd him, He there did stand

That would his doings justifie with his owne hand.

With that so furiously at him he flew,

As if he would have overrun him streight;

And with his huge great yron axe gan hew

So hideously uppon his armour bright,

As he to peeces would have chopt it quight,

That the bold Prince was forced foote to give

To his first rage, and yeeld to his despight;

The whilest at him so dreadfully he drive,

That seem’d a marble rocke asunder could have rive.

Thereto a great advauntage eke he has

Through his three double hands thrise multiplyde,

Besides the double strength which in them was:

For stil, when fit occasion did betyde,

He could his weapon shift from side to syde,

From hand to hand; and with such nimblesse sly

Could wield about, that, ere it were espide,

The wicked stroke did wound his enemy

Behinde, beside, before, as he it list apply.

Which uncouth use when as the Prince perceived,

He gan to watch the wielding of his hand,

Least by such slight he were unwares deceived;

And ever, ere he saw the stroke to land,

He would it meete and warily withstand.

One time when he his weapon faynd to shift,

As he was wont, and chang’d from hand to hand,

He met him with a counterstroke so swift,

That quite smit off his arme as he it up did lift.

Therewith all fraught with fury and disdaine,

He brayd aloud for very fell despight;

And sodainely, t’avenge him selfe againe

Gan into one assemble all the might

Of all his hands, and heaved them on hight,

Thinking to pay him with that one for all:

But the sad steele seizd not, where it was hight,

Uppon the childe, but somewhat short did fall,

And lighting on his horses head him quite did mall.

Downe streight to ground fell his astonisht steed,

And eke to th’earth his burden with him bare;

But he him selfe full lightly from him freed,

And gan him selfe to fight on foote prepare:

Whereof when as the Gyant was aware,

He wox right blyth, as he had got thereby,

And laught so loud, that all his teeth wide bare

One might have seene enraung’d disorderly,

Like to a rancke of piles that pitched are awry.

Eftsoones againe his axe he raught on hie,

Ere he were throughly buckled to his geare,

And can let drive at him so dreadfullie,

That had he chaunced not his shield to reare,

Ere that huge stroke arrived on him neare,

He had him surely cloven quite in twaine:

But th’Adamantine shield which he did beare

So well was tempred, that for all his maine

It would no passage yeeld unto his purpose vaine.

Yet was the stroke so forcibly applide,

That made him stagger with uncertaine sway,

As if he would have tottered to one side:

Wherewith full wroth he fiercely gan assay

That curt’sie with like kindnesse to repay,

And smote at him with so importune might,

That two more of his armes did fall away,

Like fruitlesse braunches, which the hatchets slight

Hath pruned from the native tree, and cropped quight.

With that all mad and furious he grew,

Like a fell mastiffe through enraging heat,

And curst, and band, and blasphemies forth threw

Against his Gods, and fire to them did threat,

And hell unto him selfe with horrour great.

Thenceforth he car’d no more which way he strooke,

Nor where it light; but gan to chaufe and sweat,

And gnasht his teeth, and his head at him shooke,

And sternely him beheld with grim and ghastly looke.

Nought fear’d the childe his lookes, ne yet his threats,

But onely wexed now the more aware

To save him selfe from those his furious heats,

And watch advauntage how to worke his care,

The which good Fortune to him offred faire;

For as he in his rage him overstrooke,

He, ere he could his weapon backe repaire,

His side all bare and naked overtooke,

And with his mortal steel quite through the body strooke.

Through all three bodies he him strooke attonce,

That all the three attonce fell on the plaine,

Else should he thrise have needed for the nonce

Them to have stricken, and thrise to have slaine.

So now all three one sencelesse lumpe remaine,

Enwallow’d in his owne blacke bloudy gore,

And byting th’earth for very deaths disdaine;

Who, with a cloud of night him covering, bore

Downe to the house of dole, his daies there to deplore.

Which when the Lady from the Castle saw,

Where she with her two sonnes did looking stand,

She towards him in hast her selfe did draw

To greet him the good fortune of his hand:

And all the people, both of towne and land,

Which there stood gazing from the Citties wall

Uppon these warriours, greedy t’understand

To whether should the victory befall,

Now when they saw it falne, they eke him greeted all.

But Belgè, with her sonnes, prostrated low

Before his feete in all that peoples sight,

Mongst joyes mixing some tears, mongst wele some wo,

Him thus bespake: “O most redoubted Knight,

The which hast me, of all most wretched wight,

That earst was dead, restor’d to life againe,

And these weake impes replanted by thy might,

What guerdon can I give thee for thy paine,

But even that which thou savedst thine still to remaine?”

He tooke her up forby the lilly hand,

And her recomforted the best he might,

Saying; “Deare Lady, deedes ought not be scand

By th’authors manhood, nor the doers might,

But by their trueth and by the causes right:

That same is it which fought for you this day.

What other meed, then, need me to requight,

But that which yeeldeth vertues meed alway?

That is, the vertue selfe, which her reward doth pay.”

She humbly thankt him for that wondrous grace,

And further sayd: “Ah! Sir, but mote ye please,

Sith ye thus farre have tendred my poore case,

As from my chiefest foe me to release,

That your victorious arme will not yet cease,

Till ye have rooted all the relickes out

Of that vilde race, and stablished my peace.”

“What is there else” (sayd he) “left of their rout?

Declare it boldly, Dame, and doe not stand in dout.”

“Then wote you, Sir, that in this Church hereby

There stands an Idole of great note and name,

The which this Gyant reared first on hie,

And of his owne vaine fancies thought did frame:

To whom, for endlesse horrour of his shame,

He offred up for daily sacrifize

My children and my people, burnt in flame

With all the tortures that he could devize,

The more t’aggrate his God with such his blouddy guize.

“And underneath this Idoll there doth lie

An hideous monster that doth it defend,

And feedes on all the carkasses that die

In sacrifize unto that cursed feend;

Whose ugly shape none ever saw, nor kend,

That ever scap’d: for of a man, they say,

It has the voice, that speaches forth doth send,

Even blasphemous words, which she doth bray

Out of her poysnous entrails fraught with dire decay.”

Which when the Prince heard tell, his heart gan earne

For great desire that Monster to assay,

And prayd the place of her abode to learne;

Which being shew’d, he gan him selfe streightway

Thereto addresse, and his bright shield display.

So to the Church he came, where it was told

The Monster underneath the Altar lay:

There he that Idoll saw of massy gold

Most richly made, but there no Monster did behold.

Upon the Image with his naked blade

Three times, as in defiance, there he strooke;

And the third time out of an hidden shade

There forth issewd from under th’Altars smooke

A dreadfull feend with fowle deformed looke,

That stretcht it selfe as it had long lyen still;

And her long taile and fethers strongly shooke,

That all the Temple did with terrour fill;

Yet him nought terrified that feared nothing ill.

An huge great Beast it was, when it in length

Was stretched forth, that nigh fild all the place,

And seem’d to be of infinite great strength:

Horrible, hideous, and of hellish race,

Borne of the brooding of Echidna base,

Or other like infernall furies kinde;

For of a Mayd she had the outward face,

To hide the horrour which did lurke behinde,

The better to beguile whom she so fond did finde.

Thereto the body of a dog she had,

Full of fell ravin and fierce greedinesse;

A Lions clawes, with powre and rigour clad,

To rend and teare what so she can oppresse;

A Dragons taile, whose sting without redresse

Full deadly wounds where so it is empight;

And Eagles wings, for scope and speedinesse,

That nothing may escape her reaching might,

Whereto she ever list to make her hardy flight.

Much like in foulnesse and deformity

Unto that Monster, whom the Theban Knight,

The father of that fatall progeny,

Made kill her selfe for very hearts despight

That he had red her Riddle, which no wight

Could ever loose but suffred deadly doole:

So also did this Monster use like slight

To many a one which came unto her schoole,

Whom she did put to death, deceived like a foole.

She comming forth, when as she first beheld

The armed Prince with shield so blazing bright

Her ready to assaile, was greatly queld,

And much dismayd with that dismayfull sight,

That backe she would have turnd for great affright:

But he gan her with courage fierce assay,

That forst her turne againe in her despight

To save her selfe, least that he did her slay;

And sure he had her slaine, had she not turnd her way.

Tho, when she saw that she was forst to fight,

She flew at him like to an hellish feend,

And on his shield tooke hold with all her might,

As if that it she would in peeces rend,

Or reave out of the hand that did it hend:

Strongly he strove out of her greedy gripe

To loose his shield, and long while did contend;

But, when he could not quite it, with one stripe

Her Lions clawes he from her feete away did wipe.

With that aloude she gan to bray and yell,

And fowle blasphemous speaches forth did cast,

And bitter curses, horrible to tell;

That even the Temple, wherein she was plast,

Did quake to heare, and nigh asunder brast:

Tho with her huge long taile she at him strooke,

That made him stagger and stand halfe agast,

With trembling joynts, as he for terrour shooke;

Who nought was terrifide, but greater courage tooke.

As when the Mast of some well-timbred hulke

Is with the blast of some outragious storme

Blowne downe, it shakes the bottome of the bulke,

And makes her ribs to cracke as they were torne;

Whilest still she stands, as stonisht and forlorne:

So was he stound with stroke of her huge taile;

But, ere that it she backe againe had borne,

He with his sword it strooke, that without faile

He jointed it, and mard the swinging of her flaile.

Then gan she cry much louder then afore,

That all the people there without it heard,

And Beige selfe was therewith stonied sore,

As if the onely sound thereof she feard.

But then the feend her selfe more fiercely reard

Uppon her wide great wings, and strongly flew

With all her body at his head and beard,

That had he not foreseene with heedfull vew,

And thrown his shield atween, she had him done to rew.

But, as she prest on him with heavy sway,

Under her wombe his fatall sword he thrust,

And for her entrailes made an open way

To issue forth; the which, once being brust,

Like to a great Mill-damb forth fiercely gusht,

And powred out of her infernall sinke

Most ugly filth; and poyson therewith rusht,

That him nigh choked with the deadly stinke.

Such loathly matter were small lust to speake or thinke.

Then downe to ground fell that deformed Masse,

Breathing out clouds of sulphure fowle and blacke,

In which a puddle of contagion was,

More loathd then Lerna, or then Stygian lake,

That any man would nigh awhaped make:

Whom when he saw on ground, he was full glad,

And streight went forth his gladnesse to partake

With Belgè, who watcht all this while full sad,

Wayting what end would be of that same daunger drad.

Whom when she saw so joyously come forth,

She gan rejoyce and shew triumphant chere,

Lauding and praysing his renowmed worth

By all the names that honorable were.

Then in he brought her, and her shewed there

The present of his paines, that Monsters spoyle,

And eke that Idoll deem’d so costly dere,

Whom he did all to peeces breake, and foyle

In filthy durt, and left so in the loathely soyle.

Then all the people which beheld that day

Gan shout aloud, that unto heaven it rong;

And all the damzels of that towne in ray

Come dauncing forth, and joyous carrols song:

So him they led through all their streetes along

Crowned with girlonds of immortall baies;

And all the vulgar did about them throng

To see the man, whose everlasting praise

They all were bound to all posterities to raise.

There he with Belgæ did awhile remaine

Making great feast and joyous merriment,

Untill he had her settled in her raine

With safe assuraunce and establishment:

Then to his first emprize his mind he lent,

Full loath to Belgæ and to all the rest;

Of whom yet taking leave thence forth he went,

And to his former journey him addrest;

On which long way he rode, ne ever day did rest.

But turne we now to noble Artegall;

Who, having left Mercilla, streight way went

On his first quest, the which him forth did call,

To weet, to worke Irenaes franchisement,

And eke Grantortoes worthy punishment.

So forth he fared, as his manner was,

With onely Talus wayting diligent,

Through many perils; and much way did pas,

Till nigh unto the place at length approcht he has.

There as he traveld by the way, he met

An aged wight wayfaring all alone,

Who through his yeares long since aside had set

The use of armes, and battell quite forgone:

To whom as he approcht, he knew anone

That it was he which whilome did attend

On faire Irene in her affliction,

When first to Faery court he saw her wend,

Unto his soveraine Queene her suite for to commend.