The Faerie Queene · Book IV · Canto 4 8 (2/2)

At length they spide where towards them with speed

A Squire came gallopping, as he would flie,

Bearing a litle Dwarfe before his steed,

That all the way full loud for aide did crie,

That seem’d his shrikes would rend the brasen skie:

Whom after did a mightie man pursew,

Ryding upon a Dromedare on hie,

Of stature huge, and horrible of hew,

That would have maz’d a man his dreadfull face to vew:

For from his fearefull eyes two fierie beames,

More sharpe then points of needles, did proceede,

Shooting forth farre away two flaming streames,

Full of sad powre, that poysnous bale did breede

To all that on him lookt without good heed,

And secretly his enemies did slay:

Like as the Basiliske, of serpents seede,

From powrefull eyes close venim doth convay

Into the lookers hart, and killeth farre away.

He all the way did rage at that same Squire,

And after him full many threatnings threw,

With curses vaine in his avengefull ire;

But none of them (so fast away he flew)

Him overtooke before he came in vew:

Where when he saw the Prince in armour bright,

He cald to him aloud his case to rew,

And rescue him, through succour of his might,

From that his cruell foe that him pursewd in sight.

Eftsoones the Prince tooke downe those Ladies twaine

From loftie steede, and mounting in their stead

Came to that Squire, yet trembling every vaine;

Of whom he gan enquire his cause of dread:

Who as he gan the same to him aread,

Loe! hard behind his backe his foe was prest,

With dreadfull weapon aymed at his head,

That unto death had doen him unredrest,

Had not the noble Prince his readie stroke represt:

Who, thrusting boldly twixt him and the blow,

The burden of the deadly brunt did beare

Upon his shield, which lightly he did throw

Over his head before the harme came neare:

Nathlesse it fell with so despiteous dreare

And heavie sway, that hard unto his crowne

The shield it drove, and did the covering reare:

Therewith both Squire and dwarfe did tomble downe

Unto the earth, and lay long while in senselesse swowne.

Whereat the Prince full wrath his strong right hand

In full avengement heaved up on hie,

And stroke the Pagan with his steely brand

So sore, that to his saddle-bow thereby

He bowed low, and so a while did lie:

And, sure, had not his massie yron mace

Betwixt him and his hurt bene happily,

It would have cleft him to the girding place;

Yet, as it was, it did astonish him long space.

But, when he to himselfe returnd againe,

All full of rage he gan to curse and sweare,

And vow by Mahoune that he should be slaine.

With that his murdrous mace he up did reare,

That seemed nought the souse thereof could beare,

And therewith smote at him with all his might;

But, ere that it to him approched neare,

The royall child with readie quicke foresight

Did shun the proofe thereof, and it avoyded light.

But, ere his hand he could recure againe

To ward his bodie from the balefull stound,

He smote at him with all his might and maine,

So furiously that, ere he wist, he found

His head before him tombling on the ground;

The whiles his babling tongue did yet blaspheme

And curse his God that did him so confound:

The whiles his life ran foorth in bloudie streame,

His soule descended downe into the Stygian reame.

Which when that Squire beheld, he woxe full glad

To see his foe breath out his spright in vaine:

But that same dwarfe right sorie seem’d and sad,

And howld aloud to see his Lord there slaine,

And rent his haire and scratcht his face for paine.

Then gan the Prince at leasure to inquire

Of all the accident there hapned plaine,

And what he was whose eyes did flame with fire;

All which was thus to him declared by that Squire.

“This mightie man,” (quoth he) “whom you have slaine,

Of an huge Geauntesse whylome was bred,

And by his strength rule to himselfe did gaine

Of many Nations into thraldome led,

And mightie kingdomes of his force adred;

Whom yet he conquer’d not by bloudie fight,

Ne hostes of men with banners brode dispred,

But by the powre of his infectious sight,

With which he killed all that came within his might.

“Ne was he ever vanquished afore,

But ever vanquisht all with whom he fought;

Ne was there man so strong, but he downe bore;

Ne woman yet so faire, but he her brought

Unto his bay, and captived her thought:

For most of strength and beautie his desire

Was spoyle to make, and wast them unto nought,

By casting secret flakes of lustfull fire

From his false eyes into their harts and parts entire.

“Therefore Corflambo was he cald aright,

Though namelesse there his bodie now doth lie;

Yet hath he left one daughter that is hight

The faire Pœana, who seemes outwardly

So faire as ever yet saw living eie;

And were her vertue like her beautie bright,

She were as faire as any under skie:

But ah! she given is to vaine delight,

And eke too loose of life, and eke of love too light.

“So, as it fell, there was a gentle Squire

That lov’d a Ladie of high parentage;

But, for his meane degree might not aspire

To match so high, her friends with counsell sage

Dissuaded her from such a disparage:

But she, whose hart to love was wholly lent,

Out of his hands could not redeeme her gage,

But, firmely following her first intent,

Resolv’d with him to wend, gainst all her friends consent.

“So twixt themselves they pointed time and place

To which when he according did repaire,

An hard mishap and disaventrous case

Him chaunst: instead of his Æmylia faire,

This Gyants sonne, that lies there on the laire

An headlesse heape, him unawares there caught;

And all dismayd through mercilesse despaire

Him wretched thrall unto his dongeon brought,

Where he remaines, of all unsuccour’d and unsought.

“This Gyants daughter came upon a day

Unto the prison, in her joyous glee,

To view the thrals which there in bondage lay:

Amongst the rest she chaunced there to see

This lovely swaine, the Squire of low degree;

To whom she did her liking lightly cast,

And wooed him her paramour to bee:

From day to day she woo’d and prayd him fast,

And for his love him promist libertie at last.

“He, though affide unto a former love,

To whom his faith he firmely ment to hold,

Yet seeing not how thence he mote remove,

But by that meanes which fortune did unfold,

Her graunted love, but with affection cold,

To win her grace his libertie to get:

Yet she him still detaines in captive hold,

Fearing, least if she should him freely set,

He would her shortly leave, and former love forget.

“Yet so much favour she to him hath hight

Above the rest, that he sometimes may space

And walke about her gardens of delight,

Having a keeper still with him in place;

Which keeper is this Dwarfe, her dearling base,

To whom the keyes of every prison dore

By her committed be, of speciall grace,

And at his will may whom he list restore,

And whom he list reserve to be afflicted more.

“Whereof when tydings came unto mine eare,

Full inly sorie, for the fervent zeale

Which I to him as to my soule did beare,

I thether went; where I did long conceale

My selfe, till that the Dwarfe did me reveale,

And told his Dame her Squire of low degree

Did secretly out of her prison steale;

For me he did mistake that Squire to bee,

For never two so like did living creature see.

“Then was I taken and before her brought,

Who, through the likenesse of my outward hew,

Being likewise beguiled in her thought,

Gan blame me much for being so untrew

To seeke by flight her fellowship t’eschew,

That lov’d me deare, as dearest thing alive.

Thence she commaunded me to prison new.

Whereof I glad did not gaine say nor strive,

But suffred that same Dwarfe me to her dongeon drive.

“There did I finde mine onely faithfull frend

In heavy plight and sad perplexitie;

Whereof I sorie, yet myselfe did bend

Him to recomfort with my companie,

But him the more agreev’d I found thereby:

For all his joy, he said, in that distresse

Was mine and his Æmylias libertie.

Æmylia well he lov’d, as I mote ghesse,

Yet greater love to me then her he did professe.

“But I with better reason him aviz’d,

And shew’d him how, through error and misthought

Of our like persons, eath to be disguiz’d,

Or his exchange or freedom might be wrought.

Whereto full loth was he, ne would for ought

Consent that I, who stood all fearelesse free,

Should wilfully be into thraldome brought,

Till fortune did perforce it so decree:

Yet, over-ruld at last, he did to me agree.

“The morrow next, about the wonted howre,

The Dwarfe cald at the doore of Amyas

To come forthwith unto his Ladies bowre:

Insteed of whom forth came I, Placidas,

And undiscerned forth with him did pas.

There with great joyance and with gladsome glee

Of faire Pœana I received was,

And oft imbrast, as if that I were hee,

And with kind words accoyd, vowing great love to mee.

“Which I, that was not bent to former love

As was my friend that had her long refus’d,

Did well accept, as well it did behove,

And to the present neede it wisely usd.

My former hardnesse first I faire excusd;

And after promist large amends to make.

With such smooth termes her error I abusd

To my friends good more then for mine owne sake,

For whose sole libertie I love and life did stake.

“Thenceforth I found more favour at her hand,

That to her Dwarfe, which had me in his charge,

She bad to lighten my too heavie band,

And graunt more scope to me to walke at large.

So on a day, as by the flowrie marge

Of a fresh streame I with that Elfe did play,

Finding no meanes how I might us enlarge,

But if that Dwarfe I could with me convay,

I lightly snatcht him up and with me bore away.

“Thereat he shriekt aloud, that with his cry

The Tyrant selfe came forth with yelling bray,

And me pursew’d; but nathemore would I

Forgoe the purchase of my gotten pray,

But have perforce him hether brought away.”

Thus as they talked, loe! where nigh at hand

Those Ladies two, yet doubtfull through dismay,

In presence came, desirous t’understand

Tydings of all which there had hapned on the land.

Where soone as sad Æmylia did espie

Her captive lovers friend, young Placidas,

All mindlesse of her wonted modestie

She to him ran, and him with streight embras

Enfolding, said; “And lives yet Amyas?”

“He lives,” (quoth he) “and his Æmylia loves.”

“Then lesse,” (said she) “by all the woe I pas,

With which my weaker patience fortune proves:

But what mishap thus long him fro my selfe removes?”

Then gan he all this storie to renew,

And tell the course of his captivitie,

That her deare hart full deepely made to rew,

And sigh full sore to heare the miserie

In which so long he mercilesse did lie.

Then, after many teares and sorrowes spent,

She deare besought the Prince of remedie;

Who thereto did with readie will consent,

And well perform’d; as shall appeare by his event.