Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

Edmund Spenser (1552?–1599). The Complete Poetical Works. 1908.

The Faerie Queene

Book I. The Legend of the Knight of the Red Crosse. Canto IV

YOUNG knight what ever, that dost armes professe,

And through long labours huntest after fame,

Beware of fraud, beware of ficklenesse,

In choice, and chaunge, of thy deare loved dame,

Least thou of her believe too lightly blame,

And rash misweening doe thy hart remove:

For unto knight there is no greater shame,

Then lightnesse and inconstancie in love:

That doth this Redcrosse Knights ensample plainly prove.

Who, after that he had faire Una lorne,

Through light misdeeming of her loialtie,

And false Duessa in her sted had borne,

Called Fidess’, and so supposd to be,

Long with her traveild, till at last they see

A goodly building, bravely garnished;

The house of mightie prince it seemd to be;

And towards it a broad high way that led,

All bare through peoples feet, which thether traveiled.

Great troupes of people traveild thetherward

Both day and night, of each degree and place;

But few returned, having scaped hard,

With balefull beggery, or foule disgrace;

Which ever after in most wretched case,

Like loathsome lazars, by the hedges lay.

Thether Duessa badd him bend his pace:

For she is wearie of the toilsom way,

And also nigh consumed is the lingring day.

A stately pallace built of squared bricke,

Which cunningly was without morter laid,

Whose wals were high, but nothing strong nor thick,

And golden foile all over them displaid,

That purest skye with brightnesse they dismaid:

High lifted up were many loftie towres,

And goodly galleries far over laid,

Full of faire windowes and delightful bowres;

And on the top a diall told the timely howres.

It was a goodly heape for to behould,

And spake the praises of the workmans witt;

But full great pittie, that so faire a mould

Did on so weake foundation ever sitt:

For on a sandie hill, that still did flitt

And fall away, it mounted was full hie,

That every breath of heaven shaked itt;

And all the hinder partes, that few could spie,

Were ruinous and old, but painted cunningly.

Arrived there, they passed in forth right;

For still to all the gates stood open wide:

Yet charge of them was to a porter hight,

Cald Malvenö, who entrance none denide:

Thence to the hall, which was on every side

With rich array and costly arras dight:

Infinite sortes of people did abide

There waiting long, to win the wished sight

Of her, that was the lady of that pallace bright.

By them they passe, all gazing on them round,

And to the presence mount; whose glorious vew

Their frayle amazed senses did confound:

In living princes court none ever knew

Such endlesse richesse, and so sumpteous shew;

Ne Persia selfe, the nourse of pompous pride,

Like ever saw. And there a noble crew

Of lords and ladies stood on every side,

Which, with their presence fayre the place much beautifide.

High above all a cloth of state was spred,

And a rich throne, as bright as sunny day,

On which there sate, most brave embellished

With royall robes and gorgeous array,

A mayden queene, that shone as Titans ray,

In glistring gold and perelesse pretious stone;

Yet her bright blazing beautie did assay

To dim the brightnesse of her glorious throne,

As envying her selfe, that too exceeding shone:

Exceeding shone, like Phœbus fayrest childe,

That did presume his fathers fyrie wayne,

And flaming mouthes of steedes unwonted wilde,

Through highest heaven with weaker hand to rayne:

Proud of such glory and advancement vayne,

While flashing beames do daze his feeble eyen,

He leaves the welkin way most beaten playne,

And, rapt with whirling wheeles, inflames the skyen

With fire not made to burne, but fayrely for to shyne.

So proud she shyned in her princely state,

Looking to heaven, for earth she did disdayne,

And sitting high, for lowly she did hate:

Lo! underneath her scornefull feete, was layne

A dreadfull dragon with an hideous trayne,

And in her hand she held a mirrhour bright,

Wherein her face she often vewed fayne,

And in her selfe-lov’d semblance tooke delight;

For she was wondrous faire, as any living wight.

Of griesly Pluto she the daughter was,

And sad Proserpina, the queene of hell;

Yet did she thinke her pearelesse worth to pas

That parentage, with pride so did she swell,

And thundring Jove, that high in heaven doth dwell,

And wield the world, she claymed for her syre,

Or if that any else did Jove excell:

For to the highest she did still aspyre,

Or, if ought higher were then that, did it desyre.

And proud Lucifera men did her call,

That made her selfe a queene, and crownd to be;

Yet rightfull kingdome she had none at all,

Ne heritage of native soveraintie,

But did usurpe with wrong and tyrannie

Upon the scepter, which she now did hold:

Ne ruld her realme with lawes, but policie,

And strong advizement of six wisards old,

That with their counsels bad her kingdome did uphold.

Soone as the Elfin knight in presence came,

And false Duessa, seeming lady fayre,

A gentle husher, Vanitie by name,

Made rowme, and passage for them did prepaire:

So goodly brought them to the lowest stayre

Of her high throne, where they, on humble knee

Making obeysaunce, did the cause declare,

Why they were come, her roiall state to see,

To prove the wide report of her great majestee.

With loftie eyes, halfe loth to looke so lowe,

She thancked them in her disdainefull wise,

Ne other grace vouchsafed them to showe

Of princesse worthy; scarse them bad arise.

Her lordes and ladies all this while devise

Themselves to setten forth to straungers sight:

Some frounce their curled heare in courtly guise,

Some prancke their ruffes, and others trimly dight

Their gay attyre: each others greater pride does spight.

Goodly they all that knight doe entertayne,

Right glad with him to have increast their crew;

But to Duess’ each one himselfe did payne

All kindnesse and faire courtesie to shew;

For in that court whylome her well they knew:

Yet the stout Faery mongst the middest crowd

Thought all their glorie vaine in knightly vew,

And that great princesse too exceeding prowd,

That to strange knight no better countenance allowd.

Suddein upriseth from her stately place

The roiall dame, and for her coche doth call:

All hurtlen forth, and she, with princely pace,

As faire Aurora, in her purple pall,

Out of the east the dawning day doth call,

So forth she comes: her brightnes brode doth blaze:

The heapes of people, thronging in the hall,

Doe ride each other, upon her to gaze:

Her glorious glitterand light doth all mens eies amaze.

So forth she comes, and to her coche does clyme,

Adorned all with gold and girlonds gay,

That seemd as fresh as Flora in her prime,

And strove to match, in roiall rich array,

Great Junoes golden chayre, the which, they say,

The gods stand gazing on, when she does ride

To Joves high hous through heavens bras-paved way,

Drawne of fayre pecocks, that excell in pride,

And full of Argus eyes their tayles dispredden wide.

But this was drawne of six unequall beasts,

On which her six sage counsellours did ryde,

Taught to obay their bestiall beheasts,

With like conditions to their kindes applyde:

Of which the first, that all the rest did guyde,

Was sluggish Idlenesse, the nourse of sin;

Upon a slouthfull asse he chose to ryde,

Arayd in habit blacke, and amis thin,

Like to an holy monck, the service to begin.

And in his hand his portesse still he bare,

That much was worne, but therein little redd;

For of devotion he had little care,

Still drownd in sleepe, and most of his daies dedd:

Scarse could he once uphold his heavie hedd,

To looken whether it were night or day:

May seeme the wayne was very evill ledd,

When such an one had guiding of the way,

That knew not whether right he went, or else astray.

From worldly cares himselfe he did esloyne,

And greatly shunned manly exercise;

From everie worke he ehalenged essoyne,

For contemplation sake: yet otherwise

His life he led in lawlesse riotise;

By which he grew to grievous malady;

For in his lustlesse limbs, through evill guise,

A shaking fever raignd continually.

Such one was Idlenesse, first of this company.

And by his side rode loathsome Gluttony,

Deformed creature, on a filthie swyne:

His belly was upblowne with luxury,

And eke with fatnesse swollen were his eyne;

And like a crane his necke was long and fyne,

With which he swallowd up excessive feast,

For want whereof poore people oft did pyne:

And all the way, most like a brutish beast,

He spued up his gorge, that all did him deteast.

In greene vine leaves he was right fitly clad;

For other clothes he could not weare for heat;

And on his head an yvie girland had,

From under which fast trickled downe the sweat:

Still as he rode, he somewhat still did eat,

And in his hand did beare a bouzing can,

Of which he supt so oft, that on his seat

His dronken corse he scarse upholden can:

In shape and life more like a monster then a man.

Unfit he was for any worldly thing,

And eke unhable once to stirre or go;

Not meet to be of counsell to a king,

Whose mind in meat and drinke was drowned so,

That from his frend he seeldome knew his fo:

Full of diseases was his carcas blew,

And a dry dropsie through his flesh did flow,

Which by misdiet daily greater grew.

Such one was Gluttony, the second of that crew.

And next to him rode lustfull Lechery

Upon a bearded gote, whose rugged heare,

And whally eies (the signe of gelosy,)

Was like the person selfe, whom he did beare:

Who rough, and blacke, and filthy, did appeare,

Unseemely man to please faire ladies eye;

Yet he of ladies oft was loved deare,

When fairer faces were bid standen by:

O who does know the bent of womens fantasy?

In a greene gowne he clothed was full faire,

Which underneath did hide his filthinesse;

And in his hand a burning hart he bare,

Full of vaine follies and new fanglenesse;

For he was false, and fraught with ficklenesse,

And learned had to love with secret lookes,

And well could daunce, and sing with ruefulnesse,

And fortunes tell, and read in loving bookes,

And thousand other waies, to bait his fleshly hookes.

Inconstant man, that loved all he saw,

And lusted after all that he did love;

Ne would his looser life be tide to law,

But joyd weake wemens hearts to tempt, and prove

If from their loyall loves he might them move;

Which lewdnes fild him with reprochfull pain

Of that foule evill, which all men reprove,

That rotts the marrow, and consumes the braine.

Such one was Lechery, the third of all this traine.

And greedy Avarice by him did ride,

Uppon a camell loaden all with gold:

Two iron coffers hong on either side,

With precious metall full as they might hold,

And in his lap an heap of coine he told;

For of his wicked pelfe his god he made,

And unto hell him selfe for money sold:

Accursed usury was all his trade;

And right and wrong ylike in equall ballaunce waide.

His life was nigh unto deaths dore yplaste;

And thred-bare cote, and cobled shoes, hee ware,

Ne scarse good morsell all his life did taste,

But both from backe and belly still did spare,

To fill his bags, and richesse to compare;

Yet childe ne kinsman living had he none

To leave them to; but thorough daily care

To get, and nightly feare to lose his owne,

He led a wretched life, unto him selfe unknowne.

Most wretched wight, whom nothing might suffise,

Whose greedy lust did lacke in greatest store,

Whose need had end, but no end covetise,

Whose welth was want, whose plenty made him pore,

Who had enough, yett wished ever more,

A vile disease; and eke in foote and hand

A grievous gout tormented him full sore,

That well he could not touch, nor goe, nor stand.

Such one was Avarice, the forth of this faire band.

And next to him malicious Envy rode

Upon a ravenous wolfe, and still did chaw

Betweene his cankred teeth a venemous tode,

That all the poison ran about his chaw;

But inwardly he chawed his owne maw

At neibors welth, that made him ever sad;

For death it was, when any good he saw;

And wept, that cause of weeping none he had;

But when he heard of harme, he wexed wondrous glad.

All in a kirtle of discolourd say

He clothed was, ypaynted full of eies;

And in his bosome secretly there lay

An hatefull snake, the which his taile uptyes

In many folds, and mortall sting implyes.

Still as he rode, he gnasht his teeth, to see

Those heapes of gold with griple Covetyse;

And grudged at the great felicitee

Of proud Lucifera, and his owne companee.

He hated all good workes and vertuous deeds,

And him no lesse, that any like did use;

And who with gratious bread the hungry feeds,

His almes for want of faith he doth accuse;

So every good to bad he doth abuse:

And eke the verse of famous poets witt

He does backebite, and spightfull poison spues

From leprous mouth on all that ever writt.

Such one vile Envy was, that fifte in row did sitt.

And him beside rides fierce revenging Wrath,

Upon a lion, loth for to be led;

And in his hand a burning brond he hath,

The which he brandisheth about his hed:

His eies did hurle forth sparcles fiery red,

And stared sterne on all that him beheld:

As ashes pale of hew, and seeming ded;

And on his dagger still his hand he held,

Trembling through hasty rage, when choler in him sweld.

His ruffin raiment all was staind with blood,

Which he had spilt, and all to rags yrent,

Through unadvized rashnes woxen wood;

For of his hands he had no governement,

Ne car’d for blood in his avengement:

But when the furious fitt was overpast,

His cruell facts he often would repent;

Yet, wilfull man, he never would repent;

How many mischieves should ensue his heedlesse hast.

Full many mischiefes follow cruell Wrath;

Abhorred bloodshed, and tumultuous strife,

Unmanly murder, and unthrifty scath,

Bitter despight, with rancours rusty knife,

And fretting griefe, the enemy of life:

All these, and many evils moe haunt Ire;

The swelling splene, and frenzy raging rife,

The shaking palsey, and Saint Fraunces fire.

Such one was Wrath, the last of this ungodly tire.

And after all, upon the wagon beame,

Rode Sathan, with a smarting whip in hand,

With which he forward lasht the laesy teme,

So oft as Slowth still in the mire did stand.

Huge routs of people did about them band,

Showting for joy; and still before their way

A foggy mist had covered all the land;

And underneath their feet, all scattered lay

Dead sculls and bones of men, whose life had gone astray.

So forth they marchen in this goodly sort,

To take the solace of the open aire,

And in fresh flowring fields themselves to sport.

Emongst the rest rode that false lady faire,

The foule Duessa, next unto the chaire

Of proud Lucifer’, as one of the traine:

But that good knight would not so nigh repaire,

Him selfe estraunging from their joyaunce vaine,

Whose fellowship seemd far unfitt for warlike swaine.

So having solaced themselves a space,

With pleasaunce of the breathing fields yfed,

They backe retourned to the princely place;

Whereas an errant knight, in armes ycled,

And heathnish shield, wherein with letters red

Was writt Sans joy, they new arrived find:

Enflam’d with fury and fiers hardyhed,

He seemd in hart to harbour thoughts unkind,

And nourish bloody vengeaunce in his bitter mind.

Who, when the shamed shield of slaine Sansfoy

He spide with that same Fary champions page,

Bewraying him that did of late destroy

His eldest brother, burning all with rage,

He to him lept, and that same envious gage

Of victors glory from him snacht away:

But th’ Elfin knight, which ought that warlike wage,

Disdaind to loose the meed he wonne in fray,

And him rencountring fierce, reskewd the noble pray.

Therewith they gan to hurtlen greedily,

Redoubted battaile ready to darrayne,

And clash their shields, and shake their swerds on hy,

That with their sturre they troubled all the traine;

Till that great queene, upon eternall paine

Of high displeasure, that ensewen might,

Commaunded them their fury to refraine,

And if that either to that shield had right,

In equall lists they should the morrow next it fight.

‘Ah! dearest dame,’ quoth then the Paynim bold,

‘Pardon the error of enraged wight,

Whome great griefe made forgett the raines to hold

Of reasons rule, to see this recreaunt knight,

No knight, but treachour full of false despight

And shameful treason, who through guile hath slayn

The prowest knight that ever field did fight,

Even stout Sansfoy, (O who can then refrayn?)

Whose shield he beares renverst, the more to heap disdayn.

‘And to augment the glorie of his guile,

His dearest love, the faire Fidessa, loe!

Is there possessed of the traytour vile,

Who reapes the harvest sowen by his foe,

Sowen in bloodie field, and bought with woe:

That brothers hand shall dearely well requight,

So be, O Queene, you equall favour showe.’

Him litle answerd th’ angry Elfin knight;

He never meant with words, but swords, to plead his right:

But threw his gauntlet as a sacred pledg,

His cause in combat the next day to try:

So been they parted both, with harts on edg

To be aveng’d each on his enimy.

That night they pas in joy and jollity,

Feasting and courting both in bowre and hall;

For steward was excessive Gluttony,

That of his plenty poured forth to all;

Which doen, the chamberlain Slowth did to rest them call.

Now whenas darkesome Night had all displayd

Her coleblacke curtein over brightest skye,

The warlike youthes, on dayntie couches layd,

Did chace away sweet sleepe from sluggish eye,

To muse on meanes of hoped victory.

But whenas Morpheus had with leaden mace

Arrested all that courtly company,

Uprose Duessa from her resting place,

And to the Paynims lodging comes with silent pace.

Whom broad awake she findes, in troublous fitt,

Forecasting, how his foe he might annoy,

And him amoves with speaches seeming fitt:

‘Ah deare Sansjoy, next dearest to Sansfoy,

Cause of my new griefe, cause of my new joy,

Joyous, to see his ymage in mine eye,

And greevd, to thinke how foe did him destroy,

That was the flowre of grace and chevalrye;

Lo! his Fidessa, to thy secret faith I flye.’

With gentle wordes he can her fayrely greet,

And bad say on the secrete of her hart.

Then, sighing soft, ‘I learne that litle sweet

Oft tempred is,’ quoth she, ‘with muchell smart:

For since my brest was launcht with lovely dart

Of deare Sansfoy, I never joyed howre,

But in eternall woes my weaker hart

Have wasted, loving him with all my powre,

And for his sake have felt full many an heavie stowre.

‘At last, when perils all I weened past,

And hop’d to reape the crop of all my care,

Into new woes unweeting I was cast

By this false faytor, who unworthie ware

His worthie shield, whom he with guilefull snare

Entrapped slew, and brought to shamefull grave.

Me, silly maid, away with him he bare,

And ever since hath kept in darksom cave,

For that I would not yeeld that to Sansfoy I gave.

‘But since faire sunne hath sperst that lowring clowd,

And to my loathed life now shewes some light,

Under your beames I will me safely shrowd

From dreaded storme of his disdainfull spight:

To you th’inheritance belonges by right

Of brothers prayse, to you eke longes his love.

Let not his love, let not his restlesse spright,

Be unreveng’d, that calles to you above

From wandring Stygian shores, where it doth endlesse move.’

Thereto said he, ‘Faire dame, be nought dismaid

For sorrowes past; their griefe is with them gone:

Ne yet of present perill be affraid:

For needlesse feare did never vantage none,

And helplesse hap it booteth not to mone.

Dead is Sansfoy, his vitall paines are past,

Though greeved ghost for vengeance deep do grone:

He lives, that shall him pay his dewties last,

And guiltie Elfin blood shall sacrifice in hast.’

‘O! but I feare the fickle freakes,’ quoth shee,

‘Of Fortune false, and oddes of armes in field.’

‘Why, dame,’ quoth he, ‘what oddes can ever bee,

Where both doe fight alike, to win or yield?’

‘Yea, but,’ quoth she, ‘he beares a charmed shield,

And eke enchaunted armes, that none can perce,

Ne none can wound the man, that does them wield.’

‘Charmd or enchaunted,’ answerd he then ferce,

‘I no whitt reck, ne you the like need to reherce.

‘But, faire Fidessa, sithens Fortunes guile,

Or enimies powre, hath now captived you,

Returne from whence ye came, and rest a while,

Till morrow next, that I the Elfe subdew,

And with Sansfoyes dead dowry you endew.’

‘Ay me! that is a double death,’ she said,

‘With proud foes sight my sorrow to renew:

Where ever yet I be, my secrete aide

Shall follow you.’ So, passing forth, she him obaid.