The Faerie Queene · Book III · Canto 3 7 (2/2)

Like as a Goshauke, that in foote doth beare

A trembling Culver, having spide on hight

An Eagle that with plumy wings doth sheare

The subtile ayre stouping with all his might,

The quarry throwes to ground with fell despight,

And to the batteill doth her selfe prepare:

So ran the Geauntesse unto the fight

Her fyrie eyes with furious sparkes did stare,

And with blasphemous bannes high God in peeces tare.

She caught in hand an huge great yron mace,

Wherewith she many had of life depriv’d;

But, ere the stroke could seize his aymed place,

His speare amids her sun-brode shield arriv’d:

Yet nathemore the steele asonder riv’d,

All were the beame in bignes like a mast,

Ne her out of the stedfast sadle driv’d;

But, glauncing on the tempred metall, brast

In thousand shivers, and so forth beside her past.

Her Steed did stagger with that puissaunt strooke;

But she no more was moved with that might

Then it had lighted on an aged Oke,

Or on the marble Pillour that is pight

Upon the top of Mount Olympus hight,

For the brave youthly Champions to assay

With burning charet wheeles it nigh to smite;

But who that smites it mars his joyous play,

And is the spectacle of ruinous decay.

Yet, therewith sore enrag’d, with sterne regard

Her dreadfull weapon she to him addrest,

Which on his helmet martelled so hard

That made him low incline his lofty crest,

And bowd his battred visour to his brest:

Wherewith he was so stund that he n’ote ryde,

But reeled to and fro from east to west.

Which when his cruell enimy espyde,

She lightly unto him adjoyned syde to syde;

And, on his collar laying puissaunt hand,

Out of his wavering seat him pluckt perforse,

Perforse him pluckt, unable to withstand

Or helpe himselfe; and laying thwart her horse,

In loathly wise like to a carrion corse,

She bore him fast away. Which when the knight

That her pursewed saw, with great remorse

He nere was touched in his noble spright,

And gan encrease his speed as she encreast her flight.

Whom when as nigh approching she espyde,

She threw away her burden angrily;

For she list not the batteill to abide,

But made her selfe more light away to fly:

Yet her the hardy knight pursewd so nye

That almost in the backe he oft her strake;

But still, when him at hand she did espy,

She turnd, and semblaunce of faire fight did make,

But, when he stayd, to flight againe she did her take.

By this the good Sir Satyrane gan wake

Out of his dreame that did him long entraunce,

And, seeing none in place, he gan to make

Exceeding mone, and curst that cruell chaunce

Which reft from him so faire a chevisaunce.

At length he spyde whereas that wofull Squyre,

Whom he had reskewed from captivaunce

Of his strong foe, lay tombled in the myre,

Unable to arise, or foote or hand to styre.

To whom approching, well he mote perceive

In that fowle plight a comely personage

And lovely face, made fit for to deceive

Fraile Ladies hart with loves consuming rage,

Now in the blossome of his freshest age.

He reard him up and loosd his yron bands,

And after gan inquire his parentage,

And how he fell into the Gyaunts hands,

And who that was which chaced her along the lands.

Then trembling yet through feare the Squire bespake:

“That Geauntesse Argantè is behight,

A daughter of the Titans which did make

Warre against heven, and heaped hils on hight

To scale the skyes and put Jove from his right:

Her syre Typhoeus was; who, mad through merth,

And dronke with blood of men slaine by his might,

Through incest her of his owne mother Earth

Whylome begot, being but halfe twin of that berth:

“For at that berth another Babe she bore;

To weet, the mightie Ollyphant, that wrought

Great wreake to many errant knights of yore,

And many hath to foule confusion brought.

These twinnes, men say, (a thing far passing thought)

While in their mothers wombe enclosd they were,

Ere they into the lightsom world were brought,

In fleshly lust were mingled both yfere,

And in that monstrous wise did to the world appere.

“So liv’d they ever after in like sin,

Gainst natures law and good behaveoure;

But greatest shame was to that maiden twin,

Who, not content so fowly to devoure

Her native flesh and staine her brothers bowre,

Did wallow in all other fleshly myre,

And suffred beastes her body to deflowre,

So whot she burned in that lustfull fyre;

Yet all that might not slake her sensuall desyre:

“But over all the countrie she did raunge

To seeke young men to quench her flaming thrust,

And feed her fancy with delightfull chaunge:

Whom so she fittest findes to serve her lust,

Through her maine strength, in which she most doth trust,

She with her bringes into a secret Ile,

Where in eternall bondage dye he must,

Or be the vassall of her pleasures vile,

And in all shamefull sort him selfe with her defile.

“Me, seely wretch, she so at vauntage caught,

After she long in waite for me did lye,

And meant unto her prison to have brought,

Her lothsom pleasure there to satisfye;

That thousand deathes me lever were to dye

Then breake the vow that to faire Columbell

I plighted have, and yet keepe stedfastly.

As for my name, it mistreth not to tell:

Call me the Squyre of Dames; that me beseemeth well.

“But that bold knight, whom ye pursuing saw

That Geauntesse, is not such as she seemd,

But a faire virgin that in martiall law

And deedes of armes above all Dames is deem’d,

And above many knightes is eke esteemd

For her great worth: She Palladine is hight.

She you from death, you me from dread, redeemd;

Ne any may that Monster match in fight,

But she, or such as she, that is so chaste a wight.”

“Her well beseemes that Quest,” (quoth Satyrane)

“But read, thou Squyre of Dames, what vow is this,

Which thou upon thy selfe hast lately ta’ne?”

“That shall I you recount,” (quoth he) “ywis,

So be ye pleasd to pardon all amis.

That gentle Lady whom I love and serve,

After long suit and wearie servicis,

Did aske me, how I could her love deserve,

And how she might be sure that I would never swerve?

“I, glad by any meanes her grace to gaine,

Badd her commaund my life to save or spill.

Eftsoones she badd me, with incessaunt paine

To wander through the world abroad at will,

And every where, where with my power or skill

I might doe service unto gentle Dames,

That I the same should faithfully fulfill;

And at the twelve monethes end should bring their names

And pledges, as the spoiles of my victorious games.

“So well I to faire Ladies service did,

And found such favour in their loving hartes,

That ere the yeare his course had compassid,

Thre hundred pledges for my good desartes,

And thrice three hundred thanks for my good partes,

I with me brought, and did to her present:

Which when she saw, more bent to eke my smartes

Then to reward my trusty true intent,

She gan for me devise a grievous punishment;

“To weet, that I my traveill should resume,

And with like labour walke the world arownd,

Ne ever to her presence should presume,

Till I so many other Dames had fownd,

The which, for all the suit I could propownd,

Would me refuse their pledges to afford,

But did abide for ever chaste and sownd.”

“Ah! gentle Squyre,” (quoth he) “tell at one word,

How many fownd’st thou such to put in thy record?”

“Indeed, Sir knight,” (said he) “one word may tell

All that I ever fownd so wisely stayd,

For onely three they were disposd so well;

And yet three yeares I now abrode have strayd,

To fynd them out.” “Mote I,” (then laughing sayd

The knight) “inquire of thee what were those three,

The which thy proffred curtesie denayd?

Or ill they seemed sure avizd to bee,

Or brutishly brought up, that nev’r did fashions see.”

“The first which then refused me,” (said hee)

“Certes was but a common Courtisane;

Yet flat refusd to have adoe with mee,

Because I could not give her many a Jane.”

(Thereat full hartely laughed Satyrane.)

“The second was an holy Nunne to chose,

Which would not let me be her Chappellane,

Because she knew, she said, I would disclose

Her counsell, if she should her trust in me repose.

“The third a Damzell was of low degree,

Whom I in countrey cottage fownd by chaunce:

Full litle weened I that chastitee

Had lodging in so meane a maintenaunce;

Yet was she fayre, and in her countenaunce

Dwelt simple truth in seemely fashion.

Long thus I woo’d her with due observaunce,

In hope unto my pleasure to have won;

But was as far at last, as when I first begon.

“Safe her, I never any woman found

That chastity did for it selfe embrace,

But were for other causes firme and sound;

Either for want of handsome time and place,

Or else for feare of shame and fowle disgrace.

Thus am I hopelesse ever to attaine

My Ladies love in such a desperate case,

But all my dayes am like to waste in vaine,

Seeking to match the chaste with th’unchaste Ladies traine.”

“Perdy” (sayd Satyrane) “thou Squyre of Dames,

Great labour fondly hast thou hent in hand,

To get small thankes, and therewith many blames,

That may emongst Alcides labours stand.”

Thence backe returning to the former land,

Where late he left the Beast he overcame,

He found him not; for he had broke his band,

And was returnd againe unto his Dame,

To tell what tydings of fayre Florimell became.