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

The same advauncing high above his head,

With sharpe intended sting so rude him smott,

That to the earth him drove, as stricken dead;

Ne living wight would have him life behott:

The mortall sting his angry needle shott

Quite through his shield, and in his shoulder seasd,

Where fast it stucke, ne would thereout be gott:

The griefe thereof him wondrous sore diseasd,

Ne might his rancling paine with patience be appeasd.

But yet, more mindfull of his honour deare

Then of the grievous smart which him did wring,

From loathed soile he can him lightly reare,

And strove to loose the far infixed sting:

Which when in vaine he tryde with struggeling,

Inflam’d with wrath, his raging blade he hefte,

And strooke so strongly, that the knotty string

Of his huge taile he quite a sonder clefte;

Five joints thereof he hewd, and but the stump him lefte.

Hart cannot thinke what outrage and what cries,

With fowle enfouldred smoake and flashing fire,

The hell-bred beast threw forth unto the skies,

That all was covered with darknesse dire:

Then, fraught with rancour and engorged yre,

He cast at once him to avenge for all;

And, gathering up himselfe out of the mire

With his uneven wings, did fiercely fall

Upon his sunne-bright shield, and grypt it fast withall.

Much was the man encombred with his hold,

In feare to lose his weapon in his paw,

Ne wist yett how his talaunts to unfold;

Nor harder was from Cerberus greedy jaw

To plucke a bone, then from his cruell claw

To reave by strength the griped gage away:

Thrise he assayd it from his foote to draw,

And thrise in vaine to draw it did assay;

It booted nought to thinke to robbe him of his pray.

Tho, when he saw no power might prevaile,

His trusty sword he cald to his last aid,

Wherewith he fiersly did his foe assaile,

And double blowes about him stoutly laid,

That glauncing fire out of the yron plaid,

As sparkles from the Andvile use to fly,

When heavy hammers on the wedge are swaid:

Therewith at last he forst him to unty

One of his grasping feete, him to defend thereby.

The other foote, fast fixed on his shield,

Whenas no strength nor stroks mote him constraine

To loose, ne yet the warlike pledge to yield,

He smott thereat with all his might and maine,

That nought so wondrous puissaunce might sustaine:

Upon the joint the lucky steele did light,

And made such way that hewd it quite in twaine;

The paw yett missed not his minisht might,

But hong still on the shield, as it at first was pight.

For griefe thereof and divelish despight,

From his infernall fournace forth he threw

Huge flames that dimmed all the hevens light,

Enrold in duskish smoke and brimstone blew:

As burning Aetna from his boyling stew

Doth belch out flames, and rockes in peeces broke,

And ragged ribs of mountaines molten new,

Enwrapt in cole-blacke clowds and filthy smoke,

That all the land with stench and heven with horror choke.

The heate whereof, and harmefull pestilence,

So sore him noyd, that forst him to retire

A little backeward for his best defence,

To save his body from the scorching fire,

Which he from hellish entrailes did expire.

It chaunst, (eternall God that chaunce did guide)

As he recoiled backeward, in the mire

His nigh foreweried feeble feet did slide,

And downe he fell, with dread of shame sore terrifide.

There grew a goodly tree him faire beside,

Loaden with fruit and apples rosy redd,

As they in pure vermilion had been dide,

Whereof great vertues over-all were redd;

For happy life to all which thereon fedd,

And life eke everlasting did befall:

Great God it planted in that blessed stedd

With his Almighty hand, and did it call

The tree of life, the crime of our first fathers fall.

In all the world like was not to be fownd,

Save in that soile, where all good things did grow,

And freely sprong out of the fruitfull grownd,

As incorrupted Nature did them sow,

Till that dredd Dragon all did overthrow.

Another like faire tree eke grew thereby,

Whereof whoso did eat, eftsoones did know

Both good and ill. O mournfull memory!

That tree through one mans fault hath doen us all to dy.

From that first tree forth flowd, as from a well,

A trickling streame of Balme, most soveraine

And dainty deare, which on the ground still fell,

And overflowed all the fertile plaine,

As it had deawed bene with timely raine:

Life and long health that gracious ointment gave,

And deadly wounds could heale, and reare againe

The sencelesse corse appointed for the grave:

Into that same he fell, which did from death him save.

For nigh thereto the ever damned Beast

Durst not approch, for he was deadly made,

And al that life preserved did detest;

Yet he it oft adventur’d to invade.

By this the drouping day-light gan to fade,

And yield his rowme to sad succeeding night,

Who with her sable mantle gan to shade

The face of earth and wayes of living wight,

And high her burning torch set up in heaven bright.

When gentle Una saw the second fall

Of her deare knight, who, weary of long fight

And faint through losse of blood, moov’d not at all,

But lay, as in a dreame of deepe delight,

Besmeard with pretious Balme, whose vertuous might

Did heale his woundes, and scorching heat alay;

Againe she stricken was with sore affright,

And for his safetie gan devoutly pray,

And watch the noyous night, and wait for joyous day.

The joyous day gan early to appeare;

And fayre Aurora from the deawy bed

Of aged Tithone gan herselfe to reare

With rosy cheekes, for shame as blushing red:

Her golden locks for hast were loosely shed

About her eares, when Una her did marke

Clymbe to her charet, all with flowers spred,

From heven high to chace the chearelesse darke;

With mery note her lowd salutes the mounting larke.

Then freshly up arose the doughty knight,

All healed of his hurts and woundes wide,

And did himselfe to battaile ready dight;

Whose early foe awaiting him beside

To have devourd, so soone as day he spyde,

When now he saw himselfe so freshly reare,

As if late fight had nought him damnifyde,

He woxe dismaid, and gan his fate to feare:

Nathlesse with wonted rage he him advaunced neare.

And in his first encounter, gaping wyde,

He thought attonce him to have swallowd quight,

And rusht upon him with outragious pryde;

Who him rencountring fierce, as hauke in flight,

Perforce rebutted backe. The weapon bright,

Taking advantage of his open jaw,

Ran through his mouth with so importune might,

That deepe emperst his darksom hollow maw,

And, back retyrd, his life blood forth with all did draw.

So downe he fell, and forth his life did breath,

That vanisht into smoke and cloudes swift;

So downe he fell, that th’earth him underneath

Did grone, as feeble so great load to lift;

So downe he fell, as an huge rocky clift,

Whose false foundacion waves have washt away,

With dreadfull poyse is from the mayneland rift,

And rolling downe great Neptune doth dismay:

So downe he fell, and like an heaped mountaine lay.

The knight him selfe even trembled at his fall,

So huge and horrible a masse it seemd;

And his deare Lady, that beheld it all,

Durst not approch for dread which she misdeemd;

But yet at last, whenas the direfull feend

She saw not stirre, off-shaking vaine affright

She nigher drew, and saw that joyous end:

Then God she praysd, and thankt her faithfull knight,

That had atchievde so great a conquest by his might.