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

High time now gan it wex for Una fayre

To thinke of those her captive Parents deare,

And their forwasted kingdom to repayre:

Whereto whenas they now approched neare,

With hartie wordes her knight she gan to cheare,

And in her modest maner thus bespake:

“Deare knight, as deare as ever knight was deare,

That all these sorrowes suffer for my sake,

High heven behold the tedious toyle ye for me take!

“Now are we come unto my native soyle,

And to the place where all our perilles dwell;

Here hauntes that feend, and does his dayly spoyle;

Therefore, henceforth, bee at your keeping well,

And ever ready for your foeman fell:

The sparke of noble corage now awake,

And strive your excellent selfe to excell:

That shall ye evermore renowmed make

Above all knights on earth, that batteill undertake.”

And pointing forth, “Lo! yonder is,” (said she)

“The brasen towre, in which my parents deare

For dread of that huge feend emprisond be;

Whom I from far see on the walles appeare,

Whose sight my feeble soule doth greatly cheare:

And on the top of all I do espye

The watchman wayting tydings glad to heare;

That, (O my Parents!) might I happily

Unto you bring, to ease you of your misery!”

With that they heard a roaring hideous sownd,

That all the ayre with terror filled wyde,

And seemd uneath to shake the stedfast ground.

Eftsoones that dreadful Dragon they espyde,

Where stretcht he lay upon the sunny side

Of a great hill, himselfe like a great hill:

But, all so soone as he from far descryde

Those glistring armes that heven with light did fill,

He rousd himselfe full blyth, and hastned them untill.

Then badd the knight his Lady yede aloof,

And to an hill herselfe withdraw asyde;

From whence she might behold that battailles proof,

And eke be safe from daunger far descryde.

She him obayd, and turnd a little wyde.⁠—

Now, O thou sacred Muse! most learned Dame,

Fayre ympe of Phœbus and his aged bryde,

The Nourse of time and everlasting fame,

That warlike handes ennoblest with immortall name;

O! gently come into my feeble brest;

Come gently, but not with that mightie rage,

Wherewith the martiall troupes thou doest infest,

And hartes of great Heroës doest enrage,

That nought their kindled corage may aswage:

Soone as thy dreadfull trompe begins to sownd,

The God of warre with his fiers equipage

Thou doest awake, sleepe never he so sownd;

And scared nations doest with horror sterne astownd.

Fayre Goddesse, lay that furious fitt asyde,

Till I of warres and bloody Mars doe sing,

And Bryton fieldes with Sarazin blood be dyde,

Twixt that great faery Queene and Paynim king,

That with their horror heven and earth did ring;

A worke of labour long, and endlesse prayse:

But now a while lett downe that haughtie string,

And to my tunes thy second tenor rayse,

That I this man of God his godly armes may blaze.

By this, the dreadful Beast drew nigh to hand,

Halfe flying and halfe footing in his haste,

That with his largenesse measured much land,

And made wide shadow under his huge waste,

As mountaine doth the valley overcaste.

Approching nigh, he reared high afore

His body monstrous, horrible, and vaste;

Which, to increase his wondrous greatnes more,

Was swoln with wrath and poyson, and with bloody gore;

And over all with brasen scales was armd,

Like plated cote of steele, so couched neare

That nought mote perce; ne might his corse bee harmd

With dint of swerd, nor push of pointed speare:

Which as an Eagle, seeing pray appeare,

His aery plumes doth rouze, full rudely dight;

So shaked he, that horror was to heare:

For as the clashing of an Armor bright,

Such noyse his rouzed scales did send unto the knight.

His flaggy winges, when forth he did display,

Were like two sayles, in which the hollow wynd

Is gathered full, and worketh speedy way:

And eke the pennes, that did his pineons bynd,

Were like mayne-yardes with flying canvas lynd;

With which whenas him list the ayre to beat,

And there by force unwonted passage fynd,

The cloudes before him fledd for terror great,

And all the hevens stood still amazed with his threat.

His huge long tayle, wownd up in hundred foldes,

Does overspred his long bras-scaly back,

Whose wreathed boughtes when ever he unfoldes,

And thick entangled knots adown does slack,

Bespotted as with shieldes of red and blacke,

It sweepeth all the land behind him farre,

And of three furlongs does but litle lacke;

And at the point two stinges in fixed arre,

Both deadly sharp, that sharpest steele exceeden farre.

But stinges and sharpest steele did far exceed

The sharpnesse of his cruel rending clawes:

Dead was it sure, as sure as death in deed,

What ever thing does touch his ravenous pawes,

Or what within his reach he ever drawes.

But his most hideous head my tongue to tell

Does tremble; for his deepe devouring jawes

Wyde gaped, like the griesly mouth of hell,

Through which into his darke abysse all ravin fell.

And, that more wondrous was, in either jaw

Three ranckes of yron teeth enraunged were,

In which yett trickling blood, and gobbets raw,

Of late devoured bodies did appeare,

That sight thereof bredd cold congealed feare;

Which to increase, and all atonce to kill,

A cloud of smoothering smoke, and sulphure seare,

Out of his stinking gorge forth steemed still,

That all the ayre about with smoke and stench did fill.

His blazing eyes, like two bright shining shieldes,

Did burne with wrath, and sparkled living fyre:

As two broad Beacons, sett in open fieldes,

Send forth their flames far off to every shyre,

And warning give that enimies conspyre

With fire and sword the region to invade:

So flam’d his eyne with rage and rancorous yre;

But far within, as in a hollow glade,

Those glaring lampes were sett that made a dreadfull shade.

So dreadfully he towardes him did pas,

Forelifting up aloft his speckled brest,

And often bounding on the brused gras,

As for great joyance of his newcome guest.

Eftsoones he gan advance his haughty crest,

As chauffed Bore his bristles doth upreare;

And shoke his scales to battaile ready drest,

That made the Redcrosse knight nigh quake for feare,

As bidding bold defyaunce to his foeman neare.

The knight gan fayrely couch his steady speare,

And fiersely ran at him with rigorous might:

The pointed steele, arriving rudely theare,

His harder hyde would nether perce nor bight,

But, glauncing by, foorth passed forward right.

Yet sore amoved with so puissaunt push,

The wrathfull beast about him turned light,

And him so rudely, passing by, did brush

With his long tayle, that horse and man to ground did rush.

Both horse and man up lightly rose againe,

And fresh encounter towardes him addrest;

But th’ydle stroke yet backe recoyld in vaine,

And found no place his deadly point to rest.

Exceeding rage enflam’d the furious Beast,

To be avenged of so great despight;

For never felt his imperceable brest

So wondrous force from hand of living wight;

Yet had he prov’d the powre of many a puissant knight.

Then, with his waving wings displayed wyde,

Himselfe up high he lifted from the ground,

And with strong flight did forcibly divyde

The yielding ayre, which nigh too feeble found

Her flitting parts, and element unsound,

To beare so great a weight: he, cutting way

With his broad sayles, about him soared round;

At last, low stouping with unweldy sway,

Snatcht up both horse and man, to beare them quite away.

Long he them bore above the subject plaine,

So far as Ewghen bow a shaft may send,

Till struggling strong did him at last constraine

To let them downe before his flightes end:

As hagard hauke, presuming to contend

With hardy fowle above his hable might,

His wearie pounces all in vaine doth spend

To trusse the pray too heavy for his flight;

Which, comming down to ground, does free it selfe by fight.

He so disseized of his gryping grosse,

The knight his thrillant speare againe assayd

In his bras-plated body to embosse,

And three mens strength unto the stroake he layd;

Wherewith the stiffe beame quaked as affrayd,

And glauncing from his scaly necke did glyde

Close under his left wing, then broad displayd:

The percing steele there wrought a wound full wyde,

That with the uncouth smart the Monster lowdly cryde.

He cryde, as raging seas are wont to rore

When wintry storme his wrathful wreck does threat;

The rolling billowes beate the ragged shore,

As they the earth would shoulder from her seat;

And greedy gulfe does gape, as he would eat

His neighbour element in his revenge:

Then gin the blustring brethren boldly threat

To move the world from off his stedfast henge,

And boystrous battaile make, each other to avenge.

The steely head stuck fast still in his flesh,

Till with his cruell clawes he snatcht the wood,

And quite a sunder broke. Forth flowed fresh

A gushing river of blacke gory blood,

That drowned all the land whereon he stood;

The streame thereof would drive a water-mill:

Trebly augmented was his furious mood

With bitter sence of his deepe rooted ill,

That flames of fire he threw forth from his large nosethril.

His hideous tayle then hurled he about,

And therewith all enwrapt the nimble thyes

Of his froth-fomy steed, whose courage stout

Striving to loose the knott that fast him tyes,

Himselfe in streighter bandes too rash implyes,

That to the ground he is perforce constraynd

To throw his ryder; who can quickly ryse

From off the earth, with durty blood distaynd,

For that reprochfull fall right fowly he disdaynd;

And fercely tooke his trenchand blade in hand,

With which he stroke so furious and so fell,

That nothing seemd the puissaunce could withstand:

Upon his crest the hardned yron fell,

But his more hardned crest was armd so well,

That deeper dint therein it would not make;

Yet so extremely did the buffe him quell,

That from thenceforth he shund the like to take,

But when he saw them come he did them still forsake.

The knight was wroth to see his stroke beguyld,

And smot againe with more outrageous might;

But backe againe the sparcling steele recoyld,

And left not any marke where it did light,

As if in Adamant rocke it had beene pight.

The beast, impatient of his smarting wound

And of so fierce and forcible despight,

Thought with his winges to stye above the ground;

But his late wounded wing unserviceable found.

Then full of griefe and anguish vehement,

He lowdly brayd, that like was never heard;

And from his wide devouring oven sent

A flake of fire, that flashing in his beard

Him all amazd, and almost made afeard:

The scorching flame sore swinged all his face,

And through his armour all his body seard,

That he could not endure so cruell cace,

But thought his armes to leave, and helmet to unlace.

Not that great Champion of the antique world,

Whom famous Poetes verse so much doth vaunt,

And hath for twelve huge labours high extold,

So many furies and sharpe fits did haunt,

When him the poysoned garment did enchaunt

With Centaures blood, and bloody verses charmd;

As did this knight twelve thousand dolours daunt,

Whom fyrie steele now burnt, that erst him arm’d;

That erst him goodly arm’d, now most of all him harm’d.

Faynt, wearie, sore, emboyled, grieved, brent,

With heat, toyle, wounds, armes, smart, and inward fire,

That never man such mischiefes did torment:

Death better were; death did he oft desire,

But death will never come when needes require.

Whom so dismayd when that his foe beheld,

He cast to suffer him no more respire,

But gan his sturdy sterne about to weld,

And him so strongly stroke, that to the ground him feld.

It fortuned, (as fayre it then befell)

Behynd his backe, unweeting, where he stood,

Of auncient time there was a springing well,

From which fast trickled forth a silver flood,

Full of great vertues, and for med’cine good:

Whylome, before that cursed Dragon got

That happy land, and all with innocent blood

Defyld those sacred waves, it rightly hot

The well of life, ne yet his vertues had forgot:

For unto life the dead it could restore,

And guilt of sinfull crimes cleane wash away;

Those that with sicknesse were infected sore

It could recure; and aged long decay

Renew, as one were borne that very day.

Both Silo this, and Jordan, did excell,

And th’English Bath, and eke the German Spau;

Ne can Cephise, nor Hebrus, match this well:

Into the same the knight back overthrowen fell.

Now gan the golden Phœbus for to steepe

His fierie face in billowes of the west,

And his faint steedes watred in Ocean deepe,

Whiles from their journall labours they did rest;

When that infernall Monster, having kest

His wearie foe into that living well,

Gan high advaunce his broad discoloured brest

Above his wonted pitch, with countenance fell,

And clapt his yron wings as victor he did dwell.

Which when his pensive Lady saw from farre,

Great woe and sorrow did her soule assay,

As weening that the sad end of the warre;

And gan to highest God entirely pray

That feared chaunce from her to turne away:

With folded hands, and knees full lowly bent,

All night shee watcht, ne once adowne would lay

Her dainty limbs in her sad dreriment,

But praying still did wake, and waking did lament.

The morrow next gan earely to appeare,

That Titan rose to runne his daily race;

But earely, ere the morrow next gan reare

Out of the sea faire Titans deawy face,

Up rose the gentle virgin from her place,

And looked all about, if she might spy

Her loved knight to move his manly pace:

For she had great doubt of his safety,

Since late she saw him fall before his enimy.

At last she saw where he upstarted brave

Out of the well, wherein he drenched lay:

As Eagle, fresh out of the ocean wave,

Where he hath lefte his plumes all hory gray,

And deckt himselfe with fethers youthly gay,

Like Eyas hauke up mounts unto the skies,

His newly-budded pineons to assay,

And marveiles at himselfe stil as he flies:

So new this newborne knight to battell new did rise.

Whom when the damned feend so fresh did spy,

No wonder if he wondred at the sight,

And doubted whether his late enimy

It were, or other new supplied knight.

He now, to prove his late-renewed might,

High brandishing his bright deaw-burning blade,

Upon his crested scalp so sore did smite,

That to the scull a yawning wound it made:

The deadly dint his dulled sences all dismaid.

I wote not whether the revenging steele

Were hardned with that holy water dew

Wherein he fell, or sharper edge did feele,

Or his baptized hands now greater grew,

Or other secret vertue did ensew;

Els never could the force of fleshly arme,

Ne molten mettall, in his blood embrew;

For till that stownd could never wight him harme

By subtilty, nor slight, nor might, nor mighty charme.

The cruell wound enraged him so sore,

That loud he yelled for exceeding paine;

As hundred ramping Lions seemd to rore,

Whom ravenous hunger did thereto constraine:

Then gan he tosse aloft his stretched traine,

And therewith scourge the buxome aire so sore,

That to his force to yielden it was faine;

Ne ought his sturdy strokes might stand afore,

That high trees overthrew, and rocks in peeces tore.