Spenser's The Faerie Queene Part 15

And high advauncing his blood-thirstie blade, Stroke one of those deformed heads so sore, That of his puissance proud ensample made; His monstrous scalpe downe to his teeth it tore, 140 And that misformed shape mis-shaped more: A sea of blood gusht from the gaping wound, That her gay garments staynd with filthy gore, And overflowed all the field around; That over shoes in bloud he waded on the ground.

XVII

145 Thereat he roared for exceeding paine, That to have heard great horror would have bred, And scourging th' emptie ayre with his long traine, Through great impatience of his grieved hed His gorgeous ryder from her loftie sted 150 Would have cast downe, and trod in durtie myre, Had not the Gyant soone her succoured; Who all enrag'd with smart and franticke yre, Came hurtling in full fierce, and forst the knight retyre.

XVIII

The force which wont in two to be disperst, 155 In one alone left hand he now unites, Which is through rage more strong than both were erst; With which his hideous club aloft he dites, And at his foe with furious rigour smites, That strongest Oake might seeme to overthrow: 160 The stroke upon his s.h.i.+eld so heavie lites, That to the ground it doubleth him full low: What mortall wight could ever beare so monstrous blow?

XIX

And in his fall his s.h.i.+eld, that covered was, Did loose his vele by chaunce, and open flew: 165 The light whereof, that heavens light did pas, Such blazing brightnesse through the aier threw, That eye mote not the same endure to vew.

Which when the Gyaunt spyde with staring eye, He downe let fall his arme, and soft withdrew 170 His weapon huge, that heaved was on hye For to have slaine the man, that on the ground did lye.

XX

And eke the fruitfull-headed beast, amazd At flas.h.i.+ng beames of that suns.h.i.+ny s.h.i.+eld, Became starke blind, and all his sences daz'd, 175 That downe he tumbled on the durtie field, And seem'd himselfe as conquered to yield.

Whom when his maistresse proud perceiv'd to fall, Whiles yet his feeble feet for faintnesse reeld, Unto the Gyant loudly she gan call, 180 O helpe Orgoglio, helpe, or else we perish all.

XXI

At her so pitteous cry was much amoov'd Her champion stout, and for to ayde his frend, Againe his wonted angry weapon proov'd: But all in vaine: for he has read his end 185 In that bright s.h.i.+eld, and all their forces spend Themselves in vaine: for since that glauncing sight, He had no powre to hurt, nor to defend; As where th' Almighties lightning brond does light, It dimmes the dazed eyen, and daunts the senses quight.

XXII

190 Whom when the Prince, to battell new addrest, And threatning high his dreadfull stroke did see, His sparkling blade about his head he blest, And smote off quite his right leg by the knee, That downe he tombled; as an aged tree, 195 High growing on the top of rocky clift, Whose hartstrings with keene steele nigh hewen be, The mightie trunck halfe rent, with ragged rift Doth roll adowne the rocks, and fall with fearefull drift.

XXIII

Or as a Castle reared high and round, 200 By subtile engins and malitious slight Is undermined from the lowest ground, And her foundation forst, and feebled quight, At last downe falles, and with her heaped hight Her hastie ruine does more heavie make, 205 And yields it selfe unto the victours might; Such was this Gyants fall, that seemd to shake The stedfast globe of earth, as it for feare did quake.

XXIV

The knight then lightly leaping to the pray, With mortall steele him smot againe so sore, 210 That headlesse his unweldy bodie lay, All wallowd in his owne fowle bloudy gore, Which flowed from his wounds in wondrous store.

But soone as breath out of his breast did pas, That huge great body, which the Gyaunt bore, 215 Was vanisht quite, and of that monstrous mas Was nothing left, but like an emptie bladder was.

XXV

Whose grievous fall, when false Duessa spide, Her golden cup she cast unto the ground, And crowned mitre rudely threw aside; 220 Such percing griefe her stubborne hart did wound, That she could not endure that dolefull stound, But leaving all behind her, fled away; The light-foot Squire her quickly turnd around, And by hard meanes enforcing her to stay, 225 So brought unto his Lord, as his deserved pray.

XXVI

The royall Virgin which beheld from farre, In pensive plight, and sad perplexitie, The whole atchievement of this doubtfull warre, Came running fast to greet his victorie, 230 With sober gladnesse, and myld modestie, And with sweet joyous cheare him thus bespake: Faire braunch of n.o.blesse, flowre of chevalrie, That with your worth the world amazed make, How shall I quite the paines ye suffer for my sake?

XXVII

235 And you fresh budd of vertue springing fast, Whom these sad eyes saw nigh unto deaths dore, What hath poore Virgin for such perill past Wherewith you to reward? Accept therefore My simple selfe, and service evermore; 240 And he that high does sit, and all things see With equall eyes, their merites to restore, Behold what ye this day have done for mee, And what I cannot quite, requite with usuree.

XXVIII

But sith the heavens, and your faire handeling 245 Have made you master of the field this day, Your fortune maister eke with governing, And well begun end all so well, I pray.

Ne let that wicked woman scape away; For she it is, that did my Lord bethrall, 250 My dearest Lord, and deepe in dongeon lay, Where he his better dayes hath wasted all.

O heare, how piteous he to you for ayd does call.

XXIX

Forthwith he gave in charge unto his Squire, That scarlot wh.o.r.e to keepen carefully; 255 Whiles he himselfe with greedie great desire Into the Castle entred forcibly, Where living creature none he did espye; Then gan he lowdly through the house to call: But no man car'd to answere to his crye.

260 There raignd a solemne silence over all, Nor voice was heard, nor wight was seene in bowre or hall.

x.x.x

At last with creeping crooked pace forth came An old old man, with beard as white as snow, That on a staffe his feeble steps did frame, 265 And guide his wearie gate both to and fro: For his eye sight him failed long ygo, And on his arme a bounch of keyes he bore, The which unused rust did overgrow: Those were the keyes of every inner dore, 270 But he could not them use, but kept them still in store.

x.x.xI

But very uncouth sight was to behold, How he did fas.h.i.+on his untoward pace, For as he forward moov'd his footing old, So backward still was turnd his wrincled face, 275 Unlike to men, who ever as they trace, Both feet and face one way are wont to lead.

This was the auncient keeper of that place, And foster father of the Gyant dead; His name Ignaro did his nature right aread.

x.x.xII

280 His reverend haires and holy gravitie The knight much honord, as beseemed well, And gently askt, where all the people bee, Which in that stately building wont to dwell.

Who answerd him full soft, he could not tell.

285 Again he askt, where that same knight was layd, Whom great Orgoglio with his puissance fell Had made his caytive thrall, againe he sayde, He could not tell: ne ever other answere made.

x.x.xIII

Then asked he, which way he in might pas: 290 He could not tell, againe he answered.

Thereat the curteous knight displeased was, And said, Old sire, it seemes thou hast not red How ill it sits with that same silver hed, In vaine to mocke, or mockt in vaine to bee: 295 But if thou be, as thou art pourtrahed With natures pen, in ages grave degree, Aread in graver wise, what I demaund of thee.

x.x.xIV

His answere likewise was, he could not tell.

Whose sencelesse speach, and doted ignorance 300 When as the n.o.ble Prince had marked well, He ghest his nature by his countenance, And calmd his wrath with goodly temperance.

Then to him stepping, from his arme did reach Those keyes, and made himselfe free enterance.

305 Each dore he opened without any breach; There was no barre to stop, nor foe him to empeach.

x.x.xV

There all within full rich arrayd he found, With royall arras and resplendent gold.

And did with store of every thing abound, 310 That greatest Princes presence might behold.

But all the floore (too filthy to be told) With bloud of guiltlesse babes, and innocents trew, Which there were slaine, as sheepe out of the fold, Defiled was, that dreadfull was to vew, 315 And sacred ashes over it was strowed new.

x.x.xVI

And there beside of marble stone was built An Altare, carv'd with cunning ymagery, On which true Christians bloud was often spilt, And holy Martyrs often doen to dye, 320 With cruell malice and strong tyranny: Whose blessed sprites from underneath the stone To G.o.d for vengeance cryde continually, And with great griefe were often heard to grone, That hardest heart would bleede, to hear their piteous mone.

x.x.xVII

325 Through every rowme he sought, and every bowr, But no where could he find that woful thrall: At last he came unto an yron doore, That fast was lockt, but key found not at all Emongst that bounch, to open it withall; 330 But in the same a little grate was pight, Through which he sent his voyce, and lowd did call With all his powre, to weet, if living wight Were housed there within, whom he enlargen might.

x.x.xVIII

Therewith an hollow, dreary, murmuring voyce 335 These pitteous plaints and dolours did resound; O who is that, which brings me happy choyce Of death, that here lye dying every stound, Yet live perforce in balefull darkenesse bound?

For now three Moones have changed thrice their hew, 340 And have been thrice hid underneath the ground, Since I the heavens chearfull face did vew, O welcome thou, that doest of death bring tydings trew.

x.x.xIX

Which when that Champion heard, with percing point Of pitty deare his hart was thrilled sore, 345 And trembling horrour ran through every joynt For ruth of gentle knight so fowle forlore: Which shaking off, he rent that yron dore, With furious force, and indignation fell; Where entred in, his foot could find no flore, 350 But all a deepe descent, as darke as h.e.l.l, That breathed ever forth a filthie banefull smell.

XL

But neither darkenesse fowle, nor filthy bands, Nor noyous smell his purpose could withhold, (Entire affection hateth nicer hands) 355 But that with constant zeale, and courage bold, After long paines and labours manifold, He found the meanes that Prisoner up to reare; Whose feeble thighes, unhable to uphold His pined corse, him sca.r.s.e to light could beare.

360 A ruefull spectacle of death and ghastly drere.

XLI

His sad dull eyes deepe sunck in hollow pits, Could not endure th' unwonted sunne to view; His bare thin cheekes for want of better bits, And empty sides deceived of their dew, 365 Could make a stony hart his hap to rew; His rawbone armes, whose mighty brawned bowrs Were wont to rive steele plates, and helmets hew, Were cleane consum'd, and all his vitall powres Decayd, and all his flesh shronk up like withered flowres.

XLII

370 Whom when his Lady saw, to him she ran With hasty joy: to see him made her glad, And sad to view his visage pale and wan, Who earst in flowres of freshest youth was clad.

Tho when her well of teares she wasted had, 375 She said, Ah dearest Lord, what evill starre On you hath fround, and pourd his influence bad, That of your selfe ye thus berobbed arre, And this misseeming hew your manly looks doth marre?

XLIII