The Faerie Queene · Book III · Canto 3 3 (2/2)

“Him shall he make his fatall Instrument

T’afflict the other Saxons unsubdewd;

He marching forth with fury insolent

Against the good king Oswald, who indewd

With heavenly powre, and by Angels reskewd,

Al holding crosses in their hands on hye,

Shall him defeate withouten blood imbrewd:

Of which that field, for endlesse memory,

Shall Hevenfield be cald to all posterity.

“Whereat Cadwallin wroth shall forth issew,

And an huge hoste into Northumber lead,

With which he godly Oswald shall subdew,

And crowne with martiredome his sacred head:

Whose brother Oswin, daunted with like dread,

With price of silver shall his kingdome buy;

And Penda, seeking him adowne to tread,

Shall tread adowne, and doe him fowly dye;

But shall with guifts his Lord Cadwallin pacify.

“Then shall Cadwallin die; and then the raine

Of Britons eke with him attonce shall dye;

Ne shall the good Cadwallader, with paine

Or powre, be hable it to remedy,

When the full time, prefixt by destiny,

Shal be expird of Britons regiment:

For heven it selfe shall their successe envy,

And them with plagues and murrins pestilent

Consume, till all their warlike puissaunce be spent.

“Yet after all these sorrowes, and huge hills

Of dying people, during eight yeares space,

Cadwallader, not yielding to his ills,

From Armoricke, where long in wretched cace

He liv’d, retourning to his native place,

Shal be by vision staide from his intent:

For th’heavens have decreëd to displace

The Britons for their sinnes dew punishment

And to the Saxons over-give their government.

“Then woe, and woe, and everlasting woe,

Be to the Briton babe that shal be borne

To live in thraldome of his fathers foe!

Late king, now captive; late lord, now forlorne;

The worlds reproch; the cruell victors scorne;

Banisht from princely bowre to wastefull wood!

O! who shal helpe me to lament and mourne

The royall seed, the antique Trojan blood,

Whose empire lenger here then ever any stood?”

The Damzell was full deepe empassioned

Both for his griefe, and for her peoples sake,

Whose future woes so plaine he fashioned;

And, sighing sore, at length him thus bespake:

“Ah! but will hevens fury never slake,

Nor vengeaunce huge relent it selfe at last?

Will not long misery late mercy make,

But shall their name for ever be defaste,

And quite from off the earth their memory be raste?”

“Nay but the terme” (sayd he) “is limited,

That in this thraldome Britons shall abide;

And the just revolution measured

That they as Straungers shal be notifide:

For twise fowre hundreth yeares shalbe supplide,

Ere they to former rule restor’d shal bee,

And their importune fates all satisfide:

Yet, during this their most obscuritee,

Their beames shall ofte breake forth, that men them faire may see.

“For Rhodoricke, whose surname shal be Great,

Shall of him selfe a brave ensample shew,

That Saxon kinges his friendship shall intreat;

And Howell Dha shall goodly well indew

The salvage minds with skill of just and trew:

Then Griffyth Conan also shall upreare

His dreaded head, and the old sparkes renew

Of native corage, that his foes shall feare,

Least back againe the kingdom he from them should beare.

“Ne shall the Saxons selves all peaceably

Enjoy the crowne, which they from Britons wonne

First ill, and after ruled wickedly;

For, ere two hundred yeares be full outronne,

There shall a Raven, far from rising Sunne,

With his wide wings upon them fiercely fly,

And bid his faithlesse chickens overronne

The fruitfull plaines, and with fell cruelty

In their avenge tread downe the victors surquedry.

“Yet shall a third both these and thine subdew.

There shall a Lion from the seabord wood

Of Neustria come roring, with a crew

Of hungry whelpes, his battailous bold brood,

Whose clawes were newly dipt in cruddy blood,

That from the Daniske Tyrants head shall rend

Th’usurped crowne, as if that he were wood,

And the spoile of the countrey conquered

Emongst his young ones shall divide with bountyhed.

“Tho, when the terme is full accomplishid,

There shall a sparke of fire, which hath long-while

Bene in his ashes raked up and hid,

Bee freshly kindled in the fruitfull Ile

Of Mona, where it lurked in exile;

Which shall breake forth into bright burning flame,

And reach into the house that beares the stile

Of roiall majesty and soveraine name:

So shall the Briton blood their crowne agayn reclame.

“Thenceforth eternall union shall be made

Betweene the nations different afore,

And sacred Peace shall lovingly persuade

The warlike minds to learne her goodly lore,

And civile armes to exercise no more:

Then shall a royall Virgin raine, which shall

Stretch her white rod over the Belgicke shore,

And the great Castle smite so sore withall,

That it shall make him shake, and shortly learn to fall.

“But yet the end is not.”⁠—There Merlin stayd,

As overcomen of the spirites powre,

Or other ghastly spectacle dismayd,

That secretly he saw, yet note discoure:

Which suddein fitt, and halfe extatick stoure,

When the two fearefull wemen saw, they grew

Greatly confused in behaveoure.

At last, the fury past, to former hew

Hee turnd againe, and chearfull looks as earst did shew.

Then, when them selves they well instructed had

Of all that needed them to be inquird,

They both, conceiving hope of comfort glad,

With lighter hearts unto their home retird;

Where they in secret counsell close conspird,

How to effect so hard an enterprize,

And to possesse the purpose they desird:

Now this, now that, twixt them they did devize,

And diverse plots did frame to maske in strange disguise.

At last the Nourse in her foolhardy wit

Conceiv’d a bold devise, and thus bespake:

“Daughter, I deeme that counsel aye most fit,

That of the time doth dew advauntage take.

Ye see that good king Uther now doth make

Strong warre upon the Paynim brethren, hight

Octa and Oza, whome hee lately brake

Beside Cayr Verolame in victorious fight,

That now all Britany doth burne in armes bright.

“That, therefore, nought our passage may empeach,

Let us in feigned armes our selves disguize,

And our weake hands (need makes good schollers) teach

The dreadful speare and shield to exercize:

Ne certes, daughter, that same warlike wize,

I weene, would you misseeme; for ye beene tall,

And large of limbe t’atchieve an hard emprize;

Ne ought ye want but skil, which practize small

Wil bring, and shortly make you a mayd Martiall.

“And, sooth, it ought your corage much inflame

To heare so often, in that royall hous,

From whence, to none inferior, ye came,

Bards tell of many wemen valorous,

Which have full many feats adventurous

Performd, in paragone of proudest men:

The bold Bunduca, whose victorious

Exployts made Rome to quake; stout Guendolen;

Renowmed Martia; and redoubted Emmilen.

“And, that which more then all the rest may sway,

Late dayes ensample, which these eyes beheld:

In the last field before Menevia,

Which Uther with those forrein Pagans held,

I saw a Saxon Virgin, the which feld

Great Ulfin thrise upon the bloody playne;

And, had not Carados her hand withheld

From rash revenge, she had him surely slayne:

Yet Carados himselfe from her escapt with payne.”

“Ah! read,” (quoth Britomart) “how is she hight?”

“Fayre Angela” (quoth she) “men do her call,

No whit lesse fayre then terrible in fight:

She hath the leading of a Martiall

And mightie people, dreaded more then all

The other Saxons, which doe, for her sake

And love, themselves of her name Angles call.

Therefore, faire Infant, her ensample make

Unto thy selfe, and equall corage to thee take.”

Her harty wordes so deepe into the mynd

Of the yong Damzell sunke, that great desire

Of warlike armes in her forthwith they tynd,

And generous stout courage did inspyre,

That she resolv’d, unweeting to her Syre,

Advent’rous knighthood on her selfe to don;

And counseld with her Nourse her Maides attyre

To turne into a massy habergeon,

And bad her all things put in readinesse anon.

Th’old woman nought that needed did omit,

But all thinges did conveniently purvay.

It fortuned (so time their turne did fitt)

A band of Britons, ryding on forray

Few dayes before, had gotten a great pray

Of Saxon goods; emongst the which was seene

A goodly Armour, and full rich aray,

Which long’d to Angela, the Saxon Queene,

All fretted round with gold, and goodly wel beseene.

The same, with all the other ornaments,

King Ryence caused to be hanged hy

In his chiefe Church, for endlesse moniments

Of his successe and gladfull victory:

Of which her selfe avising readily,

In th’evening late old Glaucè thither led

Faire Britomart, and, that same Armory

Downe taking, her therein appareled

Well as she might, and with brave bauldrick garnished.

Beside those armes there stood a mightie speare,

Which Bladud made by Magick art of yore,

And usd the same in batteill aye to beare;

Sith which it had beene here preserv’d in store,

For his great virtues proved long afore:

For never wight so fast in sell could sit,

But him perforce unto the ground it bore.

Both speare she tooke and shield which hong by it;

Both speare and shield of great powre, for her purpose fit.

Thus when she had the virgin all arayd,

Another harnesse which did hang thereby

About her selfe she dight, that the yong Mayd

She might in equall armes accompany,

And as her Squyre attend her carefully.

Tho to their ready Steedes they clombe full light,

And through back waies, that none might them espy,

Covered with secret cloud of silent night,

Themselves they forth convaid, and passed forward right.

Ne rested they, till that to Faery lond

They came, as Merlin them directed late:

Where, meeting with this Redcrosse Knight, she fond

Of diverse thinges discourses to dilate,

But most of Arthegall and his estate.

At last their wayes so fell, that they mote part:

Then each to other, well affectionate,

Friendship professed with unfained hart.

The Redcrosse Knight diverst, but forth rode Britomart.