The Faerie Queene · Book II · Canto 2 12 (1/3)

Now ginnes that goodly frame of Temperaunce

Fayrely to rise, and her adorned hed

To pricke of highest prayse forth to advaunce,

Formerly grounded and fast setteled

On firme foundation of true bountyhed:

And this brave knight, that for this vertue fightes,

Now comes to point of that same perilous sted,

Where Pleasure dwelles in sensuall delights,

Mongst thousand dangers, and ten thousand Magick mights.

Two dayes now in that sea he sayled has,

Ne ever land beheld, ne living wight,

Ne ought save perill still as he did pas:

Tho, when appeared the third Morrow bright

Upon the waves to spred her trembling light,

An hideous roring far away they heard,

That all their sences filled with affright;

And streight they saw the raging surges reard

Up to the skyes, that them of drowning made affeard.

Said then the Boteman, “Palmer, stere aright,

And keepe an even course; for yonder way

We needes must pas (God doe us well acquight!)

That is the Gulfe of Greedinesse, they say,

That deepe engorgeth all this worldes pray;

Which having swallowd up excessively,

He soone in vomit up againe doth lay,

And belcheth forth his superfluity,

That all the seas for feare doe seeme away to fly.

“On thother syde an hideous Rocke is pight

Of mightie Magnes stone, whose craggie clift

Depending from on high, dreadfull to sight,

Over the waves his rugged armes doth lift,

And threatneth downe to throw his ragged rift

On whoso cometh nigh; yet nigh it drawes

All passengers, that none from it can shift:

For, whiles they fly that Gulfes devouring jawes,

They on this rock are rent, and sunck in helples wawes.”

Forward they passe, and strongly he them rowes,

Untill they nigh unto that Gulfe arryve,

Where streame more violent and greedy growes:

Then he with all his puisaunce doth stryve

To strike his oares, and mightily doth drive

The hollow vessell through the threatfull wave;

Which, gaping wide to swallow them alyve

In th’huge abysse of his engulfing grave,

Doth rore at them in vaine, and with great terrour rave.

They, passing by, that grisely mouth did see

Sucking the seas into his entralles deepe,

That seemd more horrible then hell to bee,

Or that darke dreadfull hole of Tartare steepe

Through which the damned ghosts doen often creepe

Backe to the world, bad livers to torment:

But nought that falles into this direfull deepe

Ne that approcheth nigh the wyde descent,

May backe retourne, but is condemned to be drent.

On thother side they saw that perilous Rocke,

Threatning it selfe on them to ruinate,

On whose sharp cliftes the ribs of vessels broke;

And shivered ships, which had beene wrecked late,

Yet stuck with carkases exanimate

Of such, as having all their substance spent

In wanton joyes and lustes intemperate,

Did afterwards make shipwrack violent

Both of their life and fame, for ever fowly blent.

Forthy this hight The Rocke of vile Reproch,

A daungerous and detestable place,

To which nor fish nor fowle did once approch,

But yelling Meawes, with Seagulles hoars and bace,

And Cormoyraunts, with birds of ravenous race,

Which still sat waiting on that wastfull clift

For spoile of wretches, whose unhappy cace,

After lost credit and consumed thrift,

At last them driven hath to this despairefull drift.

The Palmer, seeing them in safetie past,

Thus saide; “Behold th’ensamples in our sights

Of lustfull luxurie and thriftlesse wast.

What now is left of miserable wightes,

Which spent their looser daies in leud delightes,

But shame and sad reproch, here to be red

By these rent reliques, speaking their ill plightes?

Let all that live hereby be counselled

To shunne Rocke of Reproch, and it as death to dred!”

So forth they rowed; and that Ferryman

With his stiffe oares did brush the sea so strong,

That the hoare waters from his frigot ran,

And the light bubles daunced all along,

Whiles the salt brine out of the billowes sprong.

At last fer off they many Islandes spy

On every side floting the floodes emong:

Then said the knight; “Lo! I the land descry;

Therefore, old Syre, thy course doe thereunto apply.”

“That may not bee,” said then the Ferryman,

“Least wee unweeting hap to be fordonne;

For those same Islands, seeming now and than,

Are not firme land, nor any certein wonne,

But stragling plots which to and fro doe ronne

In the wide waters: therefore are they hight

The Wandring Islands. Therefore doe them shonne;

For they have ofte drawne many a wandring wight

Into most deadly daunger and distressed plight.

“Yet well they seeme to him, that farre doth vew

Both faire and fruitfull, and the grownd dispred

With grassy greene of delectable hew;

And the tall trees with leaves appareled

Are deckt with blossoms dyde in white and red,

That mote the passengers thereto allure;

But whosoever once hath fastened

His foot thereon, may never it recure,

But wandreth evermore uncertein and unsure.

“As th’Isle of Delos whylome, men report,

Amid th’Aegæan sea long time did stray,

Ne made for shipping any certeine port,

Till that Latona traveiling that way,

Flying from Junoes wrath and hard assay,

Of her fayre twins was there delivered,

Which afterwards did rule the night and day:

Thenceforth it firmely was established,

And for Apolloes temple highly herried.”

They to him hearken, as beseemeth meete,

And passe on forward: so their way does ly,

That one of those same Islands, which doe fleet

In the wide sea, they needes must passen by,

Which seemd so sweet and pleasaunt to the eye,

That it would tempt a man to touchen there:

Upon the banck they sitting did espy

A daintie damsell dressing of her heare,

By whom a little skippet floting did appeare.

She, them espying, loud to them can call,

Bidding them nigher draw unto the shore,

For she had cause to busie them withall;

And therewith lowdly laught: But nathemore

Would they once turne, but kept on as afore:

Which when she saw, she left her lockes undight,

And running to her boat withouten ore,

From the departing land it launched light,

And after them did drive with all her power and might.

Whom overtaking, she in merry sort

Them gan to bord, and purpose diversly;

Now faining dalliaunce and wanton sport,

Now throwing forth lewd wordes immodestly;

Till that the Palmer gan full bitterly

Her to rebuke for being loose and light:

Which not abiding, but more scornfully

Scoffing at him that did her justly wite,

She turnd her bote about, and from them rowed quite.

That was the wanton Phædria, which late

Did ferry him over the Idle lake:

Whom nought regarding they kept on their gate,

And all her vaine allurements did forsake;

When them the wary Boteman thus bespake:

“Here now behoveth us well to avyse,

And of our safety good heede to take;

For here before a perlous passage lyes,

Where many Mermayds haunt making false melodies:

“But by the way there is a great Quicksand,

And a whirlepoole of hidden jeopardy;

Therefore, Sir Palmer, keepe an even hand,

For twixt them both the narrow way doth ly.”

Scarse had he saide, when hard at hand they spy

That quicksand nigh with water covered;

But by the checked wave they did descry

It plaine, and by the sea discoloured:

It called was the quickesand of Unthriftyhed.

They, passing by, a goodly Ship did see

Laden from far with precious merchandize,

And bravely furnished as ship might bee,

Which through great disaventure, or mesprize,

Her selfe had ronne into that hazardize;

Whose mariners and merchants with much toyle

Labour’d in vaine to have recur’d their prize,

And the rich wares to save from pitteous spoyle;

But neither toyle nor traveill might her backe recoyle.

On th’other side they see that perilous Poole,

That called was the Whirlepoole of decay;

In which full many had with haplesse doole

Beene suncke, of whom no memorie did stay:

Whose circled waters rapt with whirling sway,

Like to a restlesse wheele, still ronning round,

Did covet, as they passed by that way,

To draw their bote within the utmost bound

Of his wide Labyrinth, and then to have them dround.

But th’heedful Boteman strongly forth did stretch

His brawnie armes, and all his bodie straine,

That th’utmost sandy breach they shortly fetch,

Whiles the dredd daunger does behind remaine.

Suddeine they see from midst of all the Maine

The surging waters like a mountaine rise,

And the great sea, puft up with proud disdaine,

To swell above the measure of his guise,

As threatning to devoure all that his powre despise.

The waves come rolling, and the billowes rore

Outragiously, as they enraged were,

Or wrathfull Neptune did them drive before

His whirling charet for exceeding feare;

For not one puffe of winde there did appeare,

That all the three thereat woxe much afrayd,

Unweeting what such horrour straunge did reare.

Eftsoones they saw an hideous hoast arrayd

Of huge Sea monsters, such as living sence dismayd:

Most ugly shapes and horrible aspects,

Such as Dame Nature selfe mote feare to see,

Or shame that ever should so fowle defects

From her most cunning hand escaped bee;

All dreadfull pourtraicts of deformitee:

Spring-headed Hydres; and sea-shouldring Whales;

Great whirlpooles which all fishes make to flee;

Bright Scolopendraes arm’d with silver scales;

Mighty Monoceroses with immeasured tayles.

The dreadful Fish that hath deserv’d the name

Of Death, and like him lookes in dreadfull hew;

The griesly Wasserman, that makes his game

The flying ships with swiftnes to pursew;

The horrible Sea-satyre, that doth shew

His fearefull face in time of greatest storme;

Huge Ziffius, whom Mariners eschew

No lesse then rockes, (as travellers informe)

And greedy Rosmarines with visages deforme.

All these, and thousand thousands many more,

And more deformed Monsters thousand fold,

With dreadfull noise and hollow rombling rore

Came rushing, in the fomy waves enrold,

Which seem’d to fly for feare them to behold.

Ne wonder, if these did the knight appall;

For all that here on earth we dreadfull hold,

Be but as bugs to fearen babes withall,

Compared to the creatures in the seas entrall.

“Feare nought,” then saide the Palmer well aviz’d,

“For these same Monsters are not these in deed,

But are into these fearefull shapes disguiz’d

By that same wicked witch, to worke us dreed,

And draw from on this journey to proceed.”

Tho lifting up his vertuous staffe on hye,

He smote the sea, which calmed was with speed,

And all that dreadfull Armie fast gan flye

Into great Tethys bosome, where they hidden lye.

Quit from that danger forth their course they kept;

And as they went they heard a ruefull cry

Of one that wayld and pittifully wept,

That through the sea resounding plaints did fly:

At last they in an Island did espy

A seemely Maiden sitting by the shore,

That with great sorrow and sad agony

Seemed some great misfortune to deplore,

And lowd to them for succour called evermore.

Which Guyon hearing streight his Palmer bad

To stere the bote towards that dolefull Mayd,

That he might know and ease her sorrow sad;

Who, him avizing better, to him sayd:

“Faire Sir, be not displeasd if disobayd:

For ill it were to hearken to her cry,

For she is inly nothing ill apayd;

But onely womanish fine forgery,

Your stubborne hart t’affect with fraile infirmity.

“To which when she your courage hath inclind

Through foolish pitty, then her guilefull bayt

She will embosome deeper in your mind,

And for your ruine at the last awayt.”

The Knight was ruled, and the Boteman strayt

Held on his course with stayed stedfastnesse,

Ne ever shroncke, ne ever sought to bayt

His tyred armes for toylesome wearinesse,

But with his oares did sweepe the watry wildernesse.

And now they nigh approched to the sted

Whereas those Mermayds dwelt: it was a still

And calmy bay, on th’one side sheltered

With the brode shadow of an hoarie hill;

On th’other side an high rocke toured still,

That twixt them both a pleasaunt port they made,

And did like an halfe Theatre fulfill:

There those five sisters had continuall trade,

And usd to bath themselves in that deceiptfull shade.

They were faire Ladies, till they fondly striv’d

With th’Heliconian maides for maystery;

Of whom they, overcomen, were depriv’d

Of their proud beautie, and th’one moyity

Transformd to fish for their bold surquedry;

But th’upper halfe their hew retayned still,

And their sweet skill in wonted melody;

Which ever after they abusd to ill,

T’allure weake traveillers, whom gotten they did kill.

So now to Guyon, as he passed by,

Their pleasaunt tunes they sweetly thus applyde:

“O thou fayre sonne of gentle Faery,

That art in mightie armes most magnifyde

Above all knights that ever batteill tryde,

O! turne thy rudder hitherward awhile:

Here may thy storme-bett vessell safely ryde;

This is the Port of rest from troublous toyle,

The worldes sweet In from paine and wearisome turmoyle.”

With that the rolling sea, resounding soft,

In his big base them fitly answered;

And on the rocke the waves breaking aloft

A solemne Meane unto them measured;

The whiles sweet Zephyrus lowd whisteled

His treble, a straunge kinde of harmony,

Which Guyons senses softly tickeled,

That he the boteman bad row easily,

And let him heare some part of their rare melody.

But him the Palmer from that vanity

With temperate advice discounselled,

That they it past, and shortly gan descry

The land to which their course they leveled;

When suddeinly a grosse fog overspred

With his dull vapour all that desert has,

And heavens chearefull face enveloped,

That all things one, and one as nothing was,

And this great Universe seemd one confused mas.

Thereat they greatly were dismayd, ne wist

How to direct theyr way in darkenes wide,

But feard to wander in that wastefull mist,

For tombling into mischiefe unespide:

Worse is the daunger hidden then descride.

Suddeinly an innumerable flight

Of harmefull fowles about them fluttering cride,

And with their wicked wings them ofte did smight,

And sore annoyed, groping in that griesly night.

Even all the nation of unfortunate

And fatall birds about them flocked were,

Such as by nature men abhorre and hate;

The ill-faste Owle, deaths dreadfull messengere;

The hoars Night-raven, trump of dolefull drere;

The lether-winged Batt, dayes enimy;

The ruefull Strich, still waiting on the bere;

The whistler shrill, that whoso heares doth dy;

The hellish Harpyes, prophets of sad destiny.

All those, and all that els does horror breed,

About them flew, and fild their sayles with feare:

Yet stayd they not, but forward did proceed,

Whiles th’one did row, and th’other stifly steare;

Till that at last the weather gan to cleare,

And the faire land it selfe did playnly sheow.

Said then the Palmer; “Lo! where does appeare

The sacred soile where all our perills grow.

Therfore, Sir knight, your ready arms about you throw.”

He hearkned, and his armes about him tooke,

The whiles the nimble bote so well her sped,

That with her crooked keele the land she strooke:

Then forth the noble Guyon sallied,

And his sage Palmer that him governed;

But th’other by his bote behind did stay.

They marched fayrly forth, of nought ydred,

Both firmely armd for every hard assay,

With constancy and care, gainst daunger and dismay.