THE FIRST BOOKE OF THE FAERIE QUEENE
Contayning
THE LEGENDE OF THE KNIGHT OF THE
RED CROSSE, OR OF HOLINESSE
Proem
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3 Am now enforst a far unfitter taske,
4 For trumpets sterne to chaunge mine Oaten reeds,
5 And sing of Knights and Ladies gentle deeds;
6 Whose prayses having slept in silence long,
8 To blazon broad emongst her learned throng:
9 Fierce warres and faithful loves shall moralize my song.
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11 Thy weaker Novice to performe thy will,
13 The antique rolles, which there lye hidden still,
16 Sought through the world, and suffered so much ill,
17 That I must rue his undeserved wrong:
18 O helpe thou my weake wit, and sharpen my dull tong.
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19 And thou most dreaded impe of highest Jove,
20 Faire Venus sonne, that with thy cruell dart
21 At that good knight so cunningly didst rove,
22 That glorious fire it kindled in his hart,
24 And with thy mother milde come to mine ayde:
26 In loves and gentle jollities arrayd,
27 After his murdrous spoiles and bloudy rage allayd.
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28 And with them eke, O Goddesse heavenly bright,
29 Mirrour of grace and Majestie divine,
30 Great Lady of the greatest Isle, whose light
31 Like Phoebus lampe throughout the world doth shine,
32 Shed thy faire beames into my feeble eyne,
33 And raise my thoughts too humble and too vile,
36 The which to heare, vouchsafe, O dearest dred a-while.
The Patron of true Holinesse,
Foule Errour doth defeate:
Hypocrisie him to entrape,
Doth to his home entreate.
2 Y cladd in mightie armes and silver shielde,
3 Wherein old dints of deepe wounds did remaine,
4 The cruell markes of many a bloudy fielde;
5 Yet armes till that time did he never wield:
6 His angry steede did chide his foming bitt,
7 As much disdayning to the curbe to yield:
8 Full jolly knight he seemd, and faire did sitt,
9 As one for knightly giusts and fierce encounters fitt.
11 The deare remembrance of his dying Lord,
12 For whose sweete sake that glorious badge he wore,
13 And dead as living ever him ador'd:
14 Upon his shield the like was also scor'd,
15 For soveraine hope, which in his helpe he had:
16 Right faithfull true he was in deede and word,
17 But of his cheere did seeme too solemne sad;
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19 Upon a great adventure he was bond, 20 That greatest Gloriana to him gave,
21 That greatest Glorious Queene of Faerie lond,
22 To winne him worship, and her grace to have,
23 Which of all earthly things he most did crave;
25 To prove his puissance in battell brave
26 Upon his foe, and his new force to learne;
27 Upon his foe, a Dragon horrible and stearne.
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28 A lovely Ladie rode him faire beside, 29 Upon a lowly Asse more white then snow,
30 Yet she much whiter, but the same did hide
31 Under a vele, that wimpled was full low,
32 And over all a blacke stole she did throw,
33 As one that inly mournd: so was she sad,
34 And heavie sat upon her palfrey slow;
35 Seemed in heart some hidden care she had,
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37 So pure an innocent, as that same lambe, 38 She was in life and every vertuous lore,
39 And by descent from Royall lynage came
40 Of ancient Kings and Queenes, that had of yore
41 Their scepters stretcht from East to Westerne shore,
42 And all the world in their subjection held;
43 Till that infernall feend with foule uprore
44 Forwasted all their land, and them expeld:
45 Whom to avenge, she had this Knight from far compeld.
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46 Behind her farre away a Dwarfe did lag, 47 That lasie seemd in being ever last,
48 Or wearied with bearing of her bag
49 Of needments at his backe. Thus as they past,
50 The day with cloudes was suddeine overcast,
52 Did poure into his Lemans lap so fast,
53 That every wight to shrowd it did constrain,
54 And this faire couple eke to shroud themselves were fain.
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55 Enforst to seeke some covert nigh at hand, 56 A shadie grove not far away they spide,
57 That promist ayde the tempest to withstand:
58 Whose loftie trees yclad with sommers pride,
59 Did spred so broad, that heavens light did hide,
60 Not perceable with power of any starre:
61 And all within were pathes and alleies wide,
62 With footing worne, and leading inward farre:
63 Faire harbour that them seemes; so in they entred arre.
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64 And foorth they passe, with pleasure forward led, 65 Joying to heare the birdes sweete harmony,
66 Which therein shrouded from the tempest dred,
67 Seemd in their song to scorne the cruell sky.
69 The sayling Pine, the Cedar proud and tall,
70 The vine-prop Elme, the Poplar never dry,
71 The builder Oake, sole king of forrests all,
72 The Aspine good for staves, the Cypresse funerall.
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73 The Laurell, meed of mightie Conquerours 74 And Poets sage, the Firre that weepeth still,
75 The Willow worne of forlorne Paramours,
78 The Mirrhe sweete bleeding in the bitter wound,
79 The warlike Beech, the Ash for nothing ill,
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82 Led with delight, they thus beguile the way, 83 Untill the blustring storme is overblowne;
84 When weening to returne, whence they did stray,
85 They cannot find that path, which first was showne,
86 But wander too and fro in wayes unknowne,
87 Furthest from end then, when they neerest weene,
88 That makes them doubt, their wits be not their owne:
89 So many pathes, so many turnings seene,
90 That which of them to take, in diverse doubt they been.
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91 At last resolving forward still to fare, 92 Till that some end they finde or in or out,
93 That path they take, that beaten seemd most bare,
94 And like to lead the labyrinth about;
95 Which when by tract they hunted had throughout,
96 At length it brought them to a hollow cave,
97 Amid the thickest woods. The Champion stout
98 Eftsoones dismounted from his courser brave,
99 And to the Dwarfe a while his needlesse spere he gave.
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100 Be well aware, quoth then that Ladie milde, 101 Least suddaine mischiefe ye too rash provoke:
102 The danger hid, the place unknowne and wilde,
103 Breeds dreadfull doubts: Oft fire is without smoke,
104 And perill without show: therefore your stroke
105 Sir knight with-hold, till further triall made.
107 The forward footing for an hidden shade:
108 Vertue gives her selfe light, through darkenesse for to wade.
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109 Yea but (quoth she) the perill of this place 110 I better wot then you, though now too late
111 To wish you backe returne with foule disgrace,
112 Yet wisedome warnes, whilest foot is in the gate,
113 To stay the steppe, ere forced to retrate.
115 A monster vile, whom God and man does hate:
117 The fearefull Dwarfe:) this is no place for living men.
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118 But full of fire and greedy hardiment, 119 The youthfull knight could not for ought be staide,
120 But forth unto the darksome hole he went,
121 And looked in: his glistring armor made
122 A litle glooming light, much like a shade,
123 By which he saw the ugly monster plaine,
125 But th'other halfe did womans shape retaine,
126 Most lothsom, filthie, foule, and full of vile disdaine.
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127 And as she lay upon the durtie ground, 128 Her huge long taile her den all overspred,
130 Pointed with mortall sting. Of her there bred
131 A thousand yong ones, which she dayly fed,
132 Sucking upon her poisonous dugs, eachone
133 Of sundry shapes, yet all ill favored:
134 Soone as that uncouth light upon them shone,
135 Into her mouth they crept, and suddain all were gone.
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136 Their dam upstart, out of her den effraide, 137 And rushed forth, hurling her hideous taile
138 About her cursed head, whose folds displaid
139 Were stretcht now forth at length without entraile.
140 She lookt about, and seeing one in mayle
141 Armed to point, sought backe to turne againe;
142 For light she hated as the deadly bale,
143 Ay wont in desert darknesse to remaine,
144 Where plaine none might her see, nor she see any plaine.
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145 Which when the valiant Elfe perceiv'd, he lept 146 As Lyon fierce upon the flying pray,
148 From turning backe, and forced her to stay:
149 Therewith enrag'd she loudly gan to bray,
150 And turning fierce, her speckled taile advaunst,
151 Threatning her angry sting, him to dismay:
153 The stroke down from her head unto her shoulder glaunst.
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154 Much daunted with that dint, her sence was dazd, 155 Yet kindling rage, her selfe she gathered round,
156 And all attonce her beastly body raizd
157 With doubled forces high above the ground:
158 Tho wrapping up her wrethed sterne arownd,
159 Lept fierce upon his shield, and her huge traine
160 All suddenly about his body wound,
161 That hand or foot to stirre he strove in vaine:
162 God helpe the man so wrapt in Errours endlesse traine.
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163 His Lady sad to see his sore constraint, 164 Cride out, Now now Sir knight, shew what ye bee,
165 Add faith unto your force, and be not faint:
166 Strangle her, else she sure will strangle thee.
167 That when he heard, in great perplexitie,
168 His gall did grate for griefe and high disdaine,
169 And knitting all his force got one hand free,
170 Wherewith he grypt her gorge with so great paine,
171 That soone to loose her wicked bands did her constraine.
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172 Therewith she spewd out of her filthy maw 173 A floud of poyson horrible and blacke,
174 Full of great lumpes of flesh and gobbets raw,
175 Which stunck so vildly, that it forst him slacke
176 His grasping hold, and from her turne him backe:
178 With loathly frogs and toades, which eyes did lacke,
179 And creeping sought way in the weedy gras:
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181 As when old father Nilus gins to swell 182 With timely pride above the Aegyptian vale,
183 His fattie waves do fertile slime outwell,
184 And overflow each plaine and lowly dale:
187 Ten thousand kindes of creatures, partly male
188 And partly female of his fruitfull seed;
189 Such ugly monstrous shapes elsewhere may no man reed.
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190 The same so sore annoyed has the knight, 191 That welnigh choked with the deadly stinke,
192 His forces faile, ne can no longer fight.
193 Whose corage when the feend perceiv'd to shrinke,
194 She poured forth out of her hellish sinke
195 Her fruitfull cursed spawne of serpents small,
196 Deformed monsters, fowle, and blacke as inke,
197 Which swarming all about his legs did crall,
198 And him encombred sore, but could not hurt at all.
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199 As gentle Shepheard in sweete even-tide, 201 High on an hill, his flocke to vewen wide,
202 Markes which do byte their hasty supper best;
203 A cloud of combrous gnattes do him molest,
204 All striving to infixe their feeble stings,
205 That from their noyance he no where can rest,
206 But with his clownish hands their tender wings
207 He brusheth oft, and oft doth mar their murmurings.
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208 Thus ill bestedd, and fearefull more of shame, 209 Then of the certaine perill he stood in,
210 Halfe furious unto his foe he came,
211 Resolv'd in minde all suddenly to win,
213 And strooke at her with more then manly force,
214 That from her body full of filthie sin
215 He raft her hatefull head without remorse;
216 A streame of cole black bloud forth gushed from her corse.
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217 Her scattred brood, soone as their Parent deare 218 They saw so rudely falling to the ground,
219 Groning full deadly, all with troublous feare,
220 Gathred themselves about her body round,
221 Weening their wonted entrance to have found
222 At her wide mouth: but being there withstood
223 They flocked all about her bleeding wound,
224 And sucked up their dying mothers blood,
225 Making her death their life, and eke her hurt their good.
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226 That detestable sight him much amazde, 227 To see th'unkindly Impes of heaven accurst,
228 Devoure their dam; on whom while so he gazd,
229 Having all satisfide their bloudy thurst,
230 Their bellies swolne he saw with fulnesse burst,
231 And bowels gushing forth: well worthy end
232 Of such as drunke her life, the which them nurst;
233 Now needeth him no lenger labour spend,
234 His foes have slaine themselves, with whom he should contend.
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235 His Ladie seeing all, that chaunst, from farre 236 Approcht in hast to greet his victorie,
237 And said, Faire knight, borne under happy starre,
238 Who see your vanquisht foes before you lye:
239 Well worthy be you of that Armorie,
240 Wherein ye have great glory wonne this day,
241 And proov'd your strength on a strong enimie,
242 Your first adventure: many such I pray,
243 And henceforth ever wish, that like succeed it may.
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244 Then mounted he upon his Steede againe, 245 And with the Lady backward sought to wend;
246 That path he kept, which beaten was most plame,
247 Ne ever would to any by-way bend,
248 But still did follow one unto the end,
249 The which at last out of the wood them brought.
250 So forward on his way (with God to frend)
251 He passed forth, and new adventure sought;
252 Long way he travelled, before he heard of ought.
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253 At length they chaunst to meet upon the way 254 An aged Sire, in long blacke weedes yclad,
255 His feete all bare, his beard all hoarie gray,
256 And by his belt his booke he hanging had;
257 Sober he seemde, and very sagely sad,
258 And to the ground his eyes were lowly bent,
259 Simple in shew, and voyde of malice bad,
260 And all the way he prayed, as he went,
261 And often knockt his brest, as one that did repent.
264 And after asked him, if he did know
265 Of straunge adventures, which abroad did pas.
266 Ah my deare Sonne (quoth he) how should, alas,
268 Bidding his beades all day for his trespas,
269 Tydings of warre and worldly trouble tell?
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271 But if of daunger which hereby doth dwell, 272 And homebred evill ye desire to heare,
273 Of a straunge man I can you tidings tell,
274 That wasteth all this countrey farre and neare.
275 Of such (said he) I chiefly do inquere,
276 And shall you well reward to shew the place,
277 In which that wicked wight his dayes doth weare:
278 For to all knighthood it is foule disgrace,
279 That such a cursed creature lives so long a space.
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280 Far hence (quoth he) in wastfull wildernesse 281 His dwelling is, by which no living wight
282 May ever passe, but thorough great distresse.
283 Now (sayd the Lady) draweth toward night,
284 And well I wote, that of your later fight
285 Ye all forwearied be: for what so strong,
286 But wanting rest will also want of might?
287 The Sunne that measures heaven all day long,
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289 Then with the Sunne take Sir, your timely rest, 290 And with new day new worke at once begin:
291 Untroubled night they say gives counsell best.
292 Right well Sir knight ye have advised bin,
293 (Quoth then that aged man;) the way to win
294 Is wisely to advise: now day is spent;
295 Therefore with me ye may take up your In
296 For this same night. The knight was well content:
297 So with that godly father to his home they went.
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298 A little lowly Hermitage it was, 299 Downe in a dale, hard by a forests side,
300 Far from resort of people, that did pas
301 In travell to and froe: a little wyde
303 Wherein the Hermite dewly wont to say
304 His holy things each morne and eventyde:
305 Thereby a Christall streame did gently play,
306 Which from a sacred fountaine welled forth alway.
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307 Arrived there, the little house they fill, 308 Ne looke for entertainement, where none was:
309 Rest is their feast, and all things at their will;
310 The noblest mind the best contentment has.
311 With faire discourse the evening so they pas:
312 For that old man of pleasing wordes had store,
313 And well could file his tongue as smooth as glas;
314 He told of Saintes and Popes, and evermore
315 He strowd an Ave-Mary after and before.
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316 The drouping Night thus creepeth on them fast, 319 Sweet slombring deaw, the which to sleepe them biddes.
321 Where when all drownd in deadly sleepe he findes,
322 He to his study goes, and there amiddes
323 His Magick bookes and artes of sundry kindes,
324 He seekes out mighty charmes, to trouble sleepy mindes.
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325 Then choosing out few wordes most horrible, 326 (Let none them read) thereof did verses frame,
327 With which and other spelles like terrible,
329 And cursed heaven, and spake reprochfull shame
330 Of highest God, the Lord of life and light;
331 A bold bad man, that dar'd to call by name
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334 And forth he cald out of deepe darknesse dred 335 Legions of Sprights, the which like little flyes
336 Fluttring about his ever damned hed,
337 A-waite whereto their service he applyes,
338 To aide his friends, or fray his enimies:
339 Of those he chose out two, the falsest twoo,
340 And fittest for to forge true-seeming lyes;
341 The one of them he gave a message too,
342 The other by him selfe staide other worke to doo.
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343 He making speedy way through spersed ayre, 344 And through the world of waters wide and peepe,
345 To Morpheus house doth hastily repaire.
346 Amid the bowels of the earth full steepe,
347 And low, where dawning day doth never peepe,
350 In silver deaw his ever-drouping hed,
351 Whiles sad Night over him her mantle black doth spred.
353 The one faire fram'd of burnisht Yvory,
354 The other all with silver overcast;
355 And wakefull dogges before them farre do lye
356 Watching to banish Care their enimy,
357 Who oft is wont to trouble gentle Sleepe.
358 By them the Sprite doth passe in quietly,
359 And unto Morpheus comes, whom drowned deepe
360 In drowsie fit he findes: of nothing he takes keepe.
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361 And more, to lulle him in his slumber soft, 362 A trickling streame from high rocke tumbling downe
363 And ever-drizling raine upon the loft,
364 Mixt with a murmuring winde, much like the sowne
365 Of swarming Bees, did cast him in a swowne:
366 No other noyse, nor peoples troublous cryes,
367 As still are wont t'annoy the walled towne,
369 Wrapt in eternall silence farre from enemyes.
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370 The messenger approching to him spake, 371 But his wast wordes returnd to him in vaine:
372 So sound he slept, that nought mought him awake.
373 Then rudely he him thrust, and pusht with paine,
374 Whereat he gan to stretch: but he againe
375 Shooke him so hard, that forced him to speake.
377 In tost with troubled sights and fancies weake,
378 He mumbled soft, but would not all his silence breake.
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379 The Sprite then gan more boldly him to wake, 380 And threatned unto him the dreaded name
382 And lifting up his lumpish head, with blame
383 Halfe angry asked him, for what he came.
385 He that the stubborne Sprites can wisely tame,
386 He bids thee to him send for his intent
387 A fit false dreame, that can delude the sleepers sent.
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388 The God obayde, and calling forth straight way 390 Delivered it to him, and downe did lay
392 Whose sences all were straight benumbed and starke.
393 He backe returning by the Yvorie dore,
394 Remounted up as light as chearefull Larke,
395 And on his litle winges the dreame he bore
396 In hast unto his Lord, where he him left afore.
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397 Who all this while with charmes and hidden artes, 398 Had made a Lady of that other Spright,
399 And fram'd of liquid ayre her tender partes
400 So lively, and so like in all mens sight,
401 That weaker sence it could have ravisht quight:
402 The maker selfe for all his wondrous witt,
404 Her all in white he clad, and over it
405 Cast a blacke stole, most like to seeme for Una fit.
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406 Now when that ydle dreame was to him brought, 407 Unto that Elfin knight he bad him fly,
408 Where he slept soundly void of evill thought
409 And with false shewes abuse his fantasy,
410 In sort as he him schooled privily:
411 And that new creature borne without her dew,
412 Full of the makers guile, with usage sly
413 He taught to imitate that Lady trew,
414 Whose semblance she did carrie under feigned hew.
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415 Thus well instructed, to their worke they hast, 416 And comming where the knight in slomber lay,
417 The one upon his hardy head him plast,
418 And made him dreame of loves and lustfull play,
419 That nigh his manly hart did melt away,
420 Bathed in wanton blis and wicked joy:
421 Then seemed him his Lady by him lay,
422 And to him playnd, how that false winged boy,
423 Her chast hart had subdewd, to learne Dame pleasures toy.
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424 And she her selfe of beautie soveraigne Queene, 425 Faire Venus seemde unto his bed to bring
426 Her, whom he waking evermore did weene,
427 To be the chastest flowre, that ay did spring
428 On earthly braunch, the daughter of a king,
429 Now a loose Leman to vile service bound:
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433 In this great passion of unwonted lust, 434 Or wonted feare of doing ought amis,
435 He started up, as seeming to mistrust
436 Some secret ill, or hidden foe of his:
437 Lo there before his face his Lady is,
438 Under blake stole hyding her bayted hooke,
439 And as halfe blushing offred him to kis,
440 With gentle blandishment and lovely looke,
441 Most like that virgin true, which for her knight him took.
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442 All cleane dismayd to see so uncouth sight, 443 And halfe enraged at her shamelesse guise,
444 He thought have slaine her in his fierce despight:
445 But hasty heat tempring with sufferance wise,
446 He stayde his hand, and gan himselfe advise
447 To prove his sense, and tempt her faigned truth.
448 Wringing her hands in wemens pitteous wise,
450 Both for her noble bloud, and for her tender youth.
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451 And said, Ah Sir, my liege Lord and my love, 452 Shall I accuse the hidden cruell fate,
453 And mightie causes wrought in heaven above,
455 For hoped love to winne me certaine hate?
456 Yet thus perforce he bids me do, or die.
457 Die is my dew: yet rew my wretched state
458 You, whom my hard avenging destinie
459 Hath made judge of my life or death indifferently.
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460 Your owne deare sake forst me at first to leave 461 My Fathers kingdome, There she stopt with teares;
462 Her swollen hart her speach seemd to bereave,
463 And then againe begun, My weaker yeares
464 Captiv'd to fortune and frayle worldly feares,
465 Fly to your faith for succour and sure ayde:
466 Let me not dye in languor and long teares.
467 Why Dame (quoth he) what hath ye thus dismayd?
468 What frayes ye, that were wont to comfort me affrayd?
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469 Love of your selfe, she said, and deare constraint 470 Lets me not sleepe, but wast the wearie night
471 In secret anguish and unpittied plaint,
472 Whiles you in carelesse sleepe are drowned quight.
473 Her doubtfull words made that redoubted knight
474 Suspect her truth: yet since no'untruth he knew,
475 Her fawning love with foule disdainefull spight
477 That for my sake unknowne such griefe unto you grew.
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478 Assure your selfe, it fell not all to ground; 479 For all so deare as life is to my hart,
480 I deeme your love, and hold me to you bound;
481 Ne let vaine feares procure your needlesse smart,
482 Where cause is none, but to your rest depart.
484 Her mournefull plaintes, beguiled of her art,
485 And fed with words, that could not chuse but please,
486 So slyding softly forth, she turnd as to her ease.
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487 Long after lay he musing at her mood, 488 Much griev'd to think that gentle Dame so light,
489 For whose defence he was to shed his blood.
490 At last dull wearinesse of former fight
492 That troublous dreame gan freshly tosse his braine,
493 With bowres, and beds, and Ladies deare delight:
494 But when he saw his labour all was vaine,
495 With that misformed spright he backe returnd againe.
Notes 1] Books I-III were published in 1590, with an eloquent dedication to the Queen and an explanatory "Letter of the Authors" addressed to Sir Walter Ralegh. In the edition of Books IV-VI were added, and in 1609 the "Cantos of Mutabilitie." The text here printed is based on the 1596 edition, the last edition in Spenser's lifetime. In the "Letter" of 1590, Spenser describes the purpose and plan of his poem. It is, he says, "a continued Allegory, or darke conceit," "the generall end" of which "is to fashion a gentleman or noble person in vertuous and gentle discipline." Following what he, like his contemporaries, believed to be the didactic purpose of "the antique Poets historicall," Homer and Virgil, and the example of the Italian writers of romantic epic, Ariosto and Tasso, he sets out to portray in his hero Arthur "the image of a brave knight, perfected in the twelve private morall vertues, as Aristotle hath devised," in twelve books, in each of which another knight is to exhibit a particular virtue, while in Prince Arthur, appearing in all, is ''sette forth magnificence ... the perfection of all the rest." Prince Arthur's quest starts from his "dream or vision of the Faery Queen," who represents "glory in my generall intention," but in particular "the excellent and glorious person of our soveraine the Queene." According to "the methode of a Poet historicall," Spenser "thrusteth into the middest" of his story, proposing in the twelfth book to relate how the several adventures were entered upon at the twelve-day feast of Gloriana in her city of Cleopolis. The six completed books, their virtues and "patrones," are: 1: Holiness (the Red-crosse knight); II: Temperance (Sir Guyon); III: Chastity (Britomart, "a Lady knight''); IV: Friendship (Cambell and Triamond); V: Justice (Sir Artegall); VI: Courtesy (Sir Calidore). On the first day of the feast, ''a tall clownishe younge man" having desired the achievement of that day's adventure, soon entered "a faire Ladye in mourning weedes, riding on a white Asse, with a dwarfe behind her leading a warlike steed, that bore the Armes of a knight.... Shee complayned that her father and mother an ancient King and Queene, had bene by an huge dragon many years shut up in a brasen Castle." The young man earnestly desired that adventure, and the Lady told him "that unlesse that armour which she brought would serve him (that is the armour of a Christian man specified by Saint Paul, Ephesians) that he could not succeed in that enterprise." Then, "eftsoones taking on him knighthood," he went forth with her, "where beginneth the first booke."
The first four lines imitate the four lines (Ille ego ... horrentia Martis ) prefaced to the opening of Virgil's Æneid. Back to Line
2] Shepheards weeds: a reference to Spenser's The Shepheardes Calender . Back to Line 10] holy Virgin chiefe of nine. Calliope, the Muse of epic poetry, is called by Ovid (Metamorphoses , V, 662) the eldest (maxima ) of the Muses, though it may be argued that, since this Muse has charge of the antique rolls, Clio, the Muse of history, is meant. Back to Line
14] Tanaquill: Queen Elizabeth; at F.Q. , II.x and lxxvi she is said to have succeeded Oberon (Henry VIII) as ruler of Fairy land. In Roman history TanaquiIl was the wife of Tarquinius Priscus. She was cited by Roger Ascham, Queen Elizabeth's tutor, as the type of the noble queen. Back to Line 10] bloudie Crosse: the cross of St. George, red on a white ground, the colours of the Eucharist. Back to Line 51] An allusion to the nature-myth of the marriage of Heaven and Earth, and to Jupiter's visit to Danae in a shower of gold. Back to Line 68] The catalogue of trees recalls Ovid, Metamorphoses , X, 90-104, and Chaucer, Parlement of Foules , 176-82. Back to Line 114] wandring wood: the wood of Error, from Lat. errare , to wander. Back to Line 124] Halfe like a serpent: like the monster Echidna, described by Hesiod, Theogony , 295ff. Back to Line 177] bookes and papers: cf. Revelation 16:13; here Roman Catholic propaganda. Back to Line 186] An allusion to "spontaneous generation" from Nile slime, as described by Ovid, Metamorphoses , 1, 422-31. Back to Line 263] who graciously returned his salute, like the courteous knight he was. Back to Line 328] blacke Plutoes griesly Dame: Persephone, consort of Pluto, ruler of Hades. Back to Line 332] Gorgon: Demogorgon, a mysterious and terrible power; cf. Milton, Paradise Lost , II, 965, and Shelley, Prometheus Unbound . The name may be a mistake for "Demiurgus" (the Creator). Back to Line 348] Tethys: consort of Oceanus, used here for the ocean itself. Back to Line 352] In the Æneid (VI, 894-6), the house of Sleep has two gates, one of horn through which pass true dreams, the other of ivory, the passageway of false dreams. Cf. Odyssey , XIX, 563. Back to Line 376] dryer braine. In sixteenth-century physiology, bad dreams ("troubled sights") are caused by "cold and dry" melancholy. Back to Line 381] Hecate: an underworld goddess, represented with three faces, protectress of enchanters and witches. Back to Line 384] Archimago. The name means `chief magician.' Back to Line 403] This may be an allusion to the legend of Pygmalion, who fell in love with a beautiful statue he himself had made. Back to Line 430] Graces: "three sisters, the daughters of Jupiter (whose names are Aglaia, Thalia, Euphrosyne ...), otherwise called Charites, that is thanks. Whom the Poets feyned to be the Goddesses of al bountie and comelines'' (E.K.). Back to Line 431] Hymen i{_o} Hymen: the ritual chant at Roman weddings, also in Epithalamian , line 140. Back to Line