The Faerie Queene · Book II · Canto 2 10 (1/2)

Who now shall give unto me words and sound

Equall unto this haughtie enterprise?

Or who shall lend me wings, with which from ground

My lowly verse may loftily arise,

And lift it selfe unto the highest skies?

More ample spirit then hitherto was wount

Here needes me, whiles the famous auncestries

Of my most dreaded Soveraigne I recount,

By which all earthly Princes she doth far surmount.

Ne under Sunne that shines so wide and faire,

Whence all that lives does borrow life and light,

Lives ought that to her linage may compaire;

Which though from earth it be derived right,

Yet doth it selfe stretch forth to hevens hight,

And all the world with wonder overspred;

A labor huge, exceeding far my might.

How shall fraile pen, with feare disparaged,

Conceive such soveraine glory and great bountyhed?

Argument worthy of Mæonian quill;

Or rather worthy of great Phoebus rote,

Whereon the ruines of great Ossa hill,

And triumphes of Phlegræan Jove, he wrote,

That all the Gods admird his lofty note.

But if some relish of that hevenly lay

His learned daughters would to me report

To decke my song withall, I would assay

Thy name, O soveraine Queene! to blazon far away.

Thy name, O soveraine Queene! thy realme and race,

From this renowmed Prince derived arre,

Who mightily upheld that royall mace

Which now thou bear’st, to thee descended farre

From mighty kings and conquerours in warre,

Thy fathers and great Grandfathers of old,

Whose noble deeds above the Northerne starre

Immortall fame for ever hath enrold;

As in that old mans booke they were in order told.

The land which warlike Britons now possesse,

And therein have their mighty empire raysd,

In antique times was salvage wildernesse,

Unpeopled, unmannurd, unprovd, unpraysd;

Ne was it Island then, ne was it paysd

Amid the ocean waves, ne was it sought

Of merchants farre for profits therein praysd;

But was all desolate, and of some thought

By sea to have bene from the Celticke mayn-land brought.

Ne did it then deserve a name to have,

Till that the venturous Mariner that way

Learning his ship from those white rocks to save,

Which all along the Southerne sea-coast lay

Threatning unheedy wrecke and rash decay,

For safety that same his sea-marke made,

And namd it Albion: But later day,

Finding in it fit ports for fishers trade,

Gan more the same frequent, and further to invade.

But far in land a salvage nation dwelt

Of hideous Giaunts, and halfe beastly men,

That never tasted grace, nor goodnes felt;

But wild like beastes lurking in loathsome den,

And flying fast as Roebucke through the fen,

All naked without shame or care of cold,

By hunting and by spoiling liveden;

Of stature huge, and eke of corage bold,

That sonnes of men amazd their sternnesse to behold.

But whence they sprong, or how they were begott,

Uneath is to assure; uneath to wene

That monstrous error, which doth some assott,

That Dioclesians fifty daughters shene

Into this land by chaunce have driven bene;

Where, companing with feends and filthy Sprights

Through vaine illusion of their lust unclene,

They brought forth Geaunts, and such dreadful wights

As far exceeded men in their immeasurd mights.

They held this land, and with their filthinesse

Polluted this same gentle soyle long time;

That their owne mother loathd their beastlinesse,

And gan abhorre her broods unkindly crime,

All were they borne of her owne native slime:

Until that Brutus, anciently deriv’d

From roiall stocke of old Assaracs line,

Driven by fatall error here arriv’d,

And them of their unjust possession depriv’d.

But ere he had established his throne,

And spred his empire to the utmost shore,

He fought great batteils with his salvage fone;

In which he them defeated evermore,

And many Giaunts left on groning flore:

That well can witnes yet unto this day

The westerne Hogh, besprincled with the gore

Of mighty Goëmot, whome in stout fray

Corineus conquered, and cruelly did slay.

And eke that ample Pitt, yet far renownd

For the large leape which Debon did compell

Coulin to make, being eight lugs of grownd,

Into the which retourning backe he fell:

But those three monstrous stones doe most excell,

Which that huge sonne of hideous Albion,

Whose father Hercules in Fraunce did quell,

Great Godmer threw, in fierce contention,

At bold Canutus; but of him was slaine anon.

In meed of these great conquests by them gott,

Corineus had that Province utmost west

To him assigned for his worthy lott,

Which of his name and memorable gest

He called Cornwaile, yet so called best;

And Debons shayre was that is Devonshyre:

But Canute had his portion from the rest,

The which he cald Canutium, for his hyre;

Now Cantium, which Kent we comenly inquyre.

Thus Brute this Realme unto his rule subdewd,

And raigned long in great felicity,

Lov’d of his freends, and of his foes eschewd:

He left three sonnes, his famous progeny,

Borne of fayre Inogene of Italy;

Mongst whom he parted his imperiall state,

And Locrine left chiefe Lord of Britany.

At last ripe age bad him surrender late

His life, and long good fortune, unto finall fate.

Locrine was left the soveraine Lord of all;

But Albanact had all the Northerne part,

Which of himselfe Albania he did call;

And Camber did possesse the Westerne quart,

Which Severne now from Logris doth depart:

And each his portion peaceably enjoyd,

Ne was there outward breach, nor grudge in hart,

That once their quiet government annoyd;

But each his paynes to others profit still employd.

Untill a nation straunge, with visage swart,

And corage fierce that all men did affray,

Which through the world then swarmd in every part,

And overflowd all countries far away,

Like Noyes great flood, with their importune sway,

This land invaded with like violence,

And did themselves through all the North display:

Untill that Locrine for his Realmes defence,

Did head against them make and strong munificence.

He them encountred, a confused rout,

Foreby the River that whylome was hight

The ancient Abus, where with courage stout

He them defeated in victorious fight,

And chaste so fiercely after fearefull flight,

That forst their chiefetain, for his safeties sake,

(Their Chiefetain Humber named was aright,)

Unto the mighty streame him to betake,

Where he an end of batteill and of life did make.

The king retourned proud of victory,

And insolent wox through unwonted ease,

That shortly he forgot the jeopardy,

Which in his land he lately did appease,

And fell to vaine voluptuous disease:

He lov’d faire Ladie Estrild, leudly lov’d,

Whose wanton pleasures him too much did please,

That quite his hart from Guendolene remov’d,

From Guendolene his wife, though alwaies faithful prov’d.

The noble daughter of Corinëus

Would not endure to bee so vile disdaind,

But, gathering force and corage valorous,

Encountred him in batteill well ordaind,

In which him vanquisht she to fly constraind:

But she so fast pursewd, that him she tooke

And threw in bands, where he till death remaind;

Als his faire Leman flying through a brooke

She overhent, nought moved with her piteous looke;

But both her selfe, and eke her daughter deare,

Begotten by her kingly Paramoure,

The faire Sabrina, almost dead with feare,

She there attached, far from all succoure;

The one she slew upon the present floure;

But the sad virgin, innocent of all,

Adowne the rolling river she did poure,

Which of her name now Severne men do call:

Such was the end that to disloyall love did fall.

Then for her sonne, which she to Locrin bore,

Madan was young, unmeet the rule to sway,

In her owne hand the crowne she kept in store,

Till ryper years he raught and stronger stay;

During which time her powre she did display

Through all this Realme, the glory of her sex,

And first taught men a woman to obay:

But, when her sonne to mans estate did wex,

She it surrendred, ne her selfe would lenger vex.

Tho Madan raignd, unworthie of his race,

For with all shame that sacred throne he fild.

Next Memprise, as unworthy of that place;

In which being consorted with Manild,

For thirst of single kingdom him he kild.

But Ebranck salved both their infamies

With noble deedes, and warreyd on Brunchild

In Henault, where yet of his victories

Brave moniments remaine, which yet that land envies.

An happy man in his first dayes he was,

And happy father of faire progeny:

For all so many weekes as the yeare has,

So many children he did multiply:

Of which were twentie sonnes, which did apply

Their mindes to prayse and chevalrous desyre:

Those germans did subdew all Germany,

Of whom it hight; but in the end their Syre

With foule repulse from Fraunce was forced to retyre.

Which blott his sonne succeeding in his seat,

The second Brute, the second both in name

And eke in semblaunce of his puissaunce great,

Right well recur’d, and did away that blame

With recompence of everlasting fame:

He with his victour sword first opened

The bowels of wide Fraunce, a forlorne Dame,

And taught her first how to be conquered;

Since which, with sondrie spoiles she hath been ransacked.

Let Scaldis tell, and let tell Hania,

And let the marsh of Esthambruges tell,

What colour were their waters that same day,

And all the moore twixt Elversham and Dell,

With blood of Henalois which therein fell.

How oft that day did sad Brunchildis see

The greene shield dyde in dolorous vermell?

That not Scuith guiridh it mote seeme to bee,

But rather y scuith gogh, signe of sad crueltee.

His sonne, king Leill, by fathers labour long,

Enjoy’d an heritage of lasting peace,

And built Cairleill, and built Cairleon strong.

Next Huddibras his realme did not encrease,

But taught the land from wearie wars to cease:

Whose footsteps Bladud following, in artes

Exceld at Athens all the learned preace,

From whence he brought them to these salvage parts,

And with sweet science mollifide their stubborne harts.

Ensample of his wondrous faculty,

Behold the boyling bathes at Cairbadon,

Which seeth with secret fire eternally,

And in their entrailles, full of quick Brimston,

Nourish the flames which they are warmd upon,

That to their people wealth they forth do well,

And health to every forreyne nation:

Yet he at last, contending to excell

The reach of men, through flight into fond mischief fell.

Next him king Leyr in happie peace long raynd,

But had no issue male him to succeed,

But three faire daughters, which were well uptraind

In all that seemed fitt for kingly seed:

Mongst whom his realme he equally decreed

To have divided. Tho, when feeble age

Nigh to his utmost date he saw proceed,

He cald his daughters, and with speeches sage

Inquyrd, which of them most did love her parentage?

The eldest, Gonorill, gan to protest

That she much more than her owne life him lov’d;

And Regan greater love to him profest

Then all the world, when ever it were proov’d;

But Cordeill said she lov’d him as behoov’d:

Whose simple answere, wanting colours fayre

To paint it forth, him to displeasaunce moov’d,

That in his crown he counted her no hayre,

But twixt the other twain his kingdom whole did shayre.

So wedded th’one to Maglan king of Scottes,

And thother to the king of Cambria,

And twixt them shayrd his realme by equall lottes;

But without dowre the wise Cordelia

Was sent to Aggannip of Celtica.

Their aged Syre, thus eased of his crowne,

A private life ledd in Albania

With Gonorill, long had in great renowne,

That nought him griev’d to beene from rule deposed downe.

But true it is that, when the oyle is spent,

The light goes out, and weeke is throwne away:

So, when he had resignd his regiment,

His daughter gan despise his drouping day,

And wearie wax of his continuall stay.

Tho to his daughter Regan he repayrd,

Who him as first well used every way;

But when of his departure she despayrd,

Her bountie she abated, and his cheare empayrd.

The wretched man gan then avise too late,

That love is not where most it is profest;

Too truely tryde in his extremest state.

At last, resolv’d likewise to prove the rest,

He to Cordelia him selfe addrest,

Who with entyre affection him receav’d,

As for her Syre and king her seemed best;

And after all an army strong she leav’d,

To war on those which him had of his realme bereav’d,

So to his crowne she him restord againe;

In which he dyde, made ripe for death by eld,

And after wild it should to her remaine,

Who peaceably the same long time did weld,

And all mens harts in dew obedience held;

Till that her sisters children, woxen strong,

Through proud ambition against her rebeld,

And overcommen kept in prison long,

Till weary of that wretched life her selfe she hong.

Then gan the bloody brethren both to raine;

But fierce Cundah gan shortly to envy

His brother Morgan, prickt with proud disdaine

To have a pere in part of soverainty;

And kindling coles of cruell enmity,

Raisd warre, and him in batteill overthrew.

Whence as he to those woody hilles did fly,

Which hight of him Glamorgan, there him slew:

Then did he raigne alone, when he none equall knew.

His sonne Rivall’his dead rowme did supply;

In whose sad time blood did from heaven rayne.

Next great Gurgustus, then faire Cæcily,

In constant peace their kingdomes did contayne.

After whom Lago, and Kinmarke did rayne,

And Gorbogud, till far in years he grew:

Then his ambitious sonnes unto them twayne

Arraught the rule, and from their father drew;

Stout Ferrex and sterne Porrex him in prison threw.

But O! the greedy thirst of royall crowne,

That knowes no kinred, nor regardes no right,

Stird Porrex up to put his brother downe;

Who, unto him assembling forreigne might,

Made warre on him, and fell him selfe in fight:

Whose death t’avenge, his mother mercilesse,

Most mercilesse of women, Wyden hight,

Her other sonne fast sleeping did oppresse,

And with most cruell hand him murdred pittilesse.

Here ended Brutus sacred progeny,

Which had seven hundred yeares this scepter borne

With high renowme and great felicity:

The noble braunch from th’antique stocke was torne

Through discord, and the roiall throne forlorne.

Thenceforth this Realme was into factions rent,

Whilest each of Brutus boasted to be borne,

That in the end was left no moniment

Of Brutus, nor of Britons glorie auncient.

Then up arose a man of matchlesse might,

And wondrous wit to menage high affayres,

Who, stird with pitty of the stressed plight

Of this sad realme, cut into sondry shayres

By such as claymd themselves Brutes rightfull hayres,

Gathered the Princes of the people loose

To taken counsell of their common cares;

Who, with his wisedom won, him streight did choose

Their king, and swore him fealty to win or loose.

Then made he head against his enimies,

And Ymner slew of Logris miscreate;

Then Ruddoc and proud Stater, both allyes,

This of Albany newly nominate,

And that of Cambry king confirmed late,

He overthrew through his owne valiaunce;

Whose countries he redus’d to quiet state,

And shortly brought to civile governaunce,

Now one, which earst were many made through variaunce.