Spenser's The Faerie Queene Part 8

XXIV

And next to him rode l.u.s.tfull Lechery, Upon a bearded Goat, whose rugged haire, 210 And whally eyes (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, 215 When fairer faces were bid standen by: O who does know the bent of womens fantasy?

XXV

In a greene gowne he clothed was full faire, Which underneath did hide his filthinesse, And in his hand a burning hart he bare, 220 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, 225 And thousand other wayes, to bait his fleshly hookes.

XXVI

Inconstant man, that loved all he saw, And l.u.s.ted after all that he did love; Ne would his looser life be tide to law, But joyd weak wemens hearts to tempt and prove, 230 If from their loyall loves he might them move; Which lewdnesse fild him with reprochfull paine Of that fowle evill, which all men reprove, That rots the marrow and consumes the braine: Such one was Lecherie, the third of all this traine.

XXVII

235 And greedy Avarice by him did ride, Upon a Camell loaden all with gold; Two iron coffers hong on either side, With precious mettall full as they might hold; And in his lap an heape of coine he told; 240 For of his wicked pelfe his G.o.d he made, And unto h.e.l.l him selfe for money sold; Accursed usurie was all his trade, And right and wrong ylike in equall ballaunce waide.

XXVIII

His life was nigh unto deaths doore yplast, 245 And thred-bare cote, and cobled shoes he ware, Ne sca.r.s.e good morsell all his life did tast, But both from backe and belly still did spare, To fill his bags, and richesse to compare; Yet chylde ne kinsman living had he none 250 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.

XXIX

Most wretched wight, whom nothing might suffise, Whose greedy l.u.s.t did lacke in greatest store, 255 Whose need had end, but no end covetise, Whose wealth was want, whose plenty made him pore, Who had enough, yet wished ever more; A vile disease, and eke in foote and hand A grievous gout tormented him full sore, 260 That well he could not touch, nor go, nor stand; Such one was Avarice, the fourth of this faire band.

x.x.x

And next to him malicious Envie rode, Upon a ravenous wolfe, and still did chaw Betweene his cankred teeth a venemous tode, 265 That all the poison ran about his chaw; But inwardly he chawed his owne maw At neighbours wealth, that made him ever sad; For death it was when any good he saw, And wept, that cause of weeping none he had, 270 But when he heard of harme, he wexed wondrous glad.

x.x.xI

All in a kirtle of discolourd say He clothed was, ypainted full of eyes; And in his bosome secretly there lay An hatefull Snake, the which his taile uptyes 275 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 felicitie Of proud Lucifera, and his owne companie.

x.x.xII

280 He hated all good workes and vertuous deeds, And him no lesse, that any like did use, And who with gracious bread the hungry feeds, His almes for want of faith he doth accuse; So every good to bad he doth abuse: 285 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 Envie was, that fifte in row did sitt.

x.x.xIII

And him beside rides fierce revenging Wrath, 290 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 eyes did hurle forth sparkles fiery red, And stared sterne on all that him beheld, 295 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.

x.x.xIV

His ruffin raiment all was staind with blood, Which he had spilt, and all to rags yrent, 300 Through unadvized rashnesse woxen wood; For of his hands he had no governement, Ne car'd for bloud in his avengement: But when the furious fit was overpast, His cruell facts he often would repent; 305 Yet wilfull man he never would forecast, How many mischieves should ensue his heedlesse hast.

x.x.xV

Full many mischiefes follow cruell Wrath; Abhorred bloodshed and tumultuous strife, Unmanly murder, and unthrifty scath, 310 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: 315 Such one was Wrath, the last of this unG.o.dly tire.

x.x.xVI

And after all, upon the wagon beame Rode Sathan, with a smarting whip in hand, With which he forward lasht the laesie teme, So oft as Slowth still in the mire did stand.

320 Hugh 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 sculs and bones of men, whose life had gone astray.

x.x.xVII

325 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 330 Of proud Lucifera, as one of the traine: But that good knight would not so nigh repaire, Him selfe estraunging from their joyaunce vaine, Whose fellows.h.i.+p seemd far unfit for warlike swaine.

x.x.xVIII

So having solaced themselves a s.p.a.ce 335 With pleasaunce of the breathing fields yfed, They backe retourned to the Princely Place; Whereas an errant knight in armes ycled, And heathnish s.h.i.+eld, wherein with letters red Was writ Sans joy, they new arrived find: 340 Enflam'd with fury and fiers hardy-hed He seemd in hart to harbour thoughts unkind, And nourish bloudy vengeaunce in his bitter mind.

x.x.xIX

Who when the shamed s.h.i.+eld of slaine Sansfoy He spide with that same Faery champions page, 345 Bewraying him, that did of late destroy His eldest brother, burning all with rage He to him leapt, and that same envious gage Of victors glory from him s.n.a.t.c.ht away: But th' Elfin knight, which ought that warlike wage 350 Disdaind to loose the meed he wonne in fray, And him rencountring fierce, reskewd the n.o.ble pray.

XL

Therewith they gan to hurtlen greedily, Redoubted battaile ready to darrayne, And clash their s.h.i.+elds, and shake their swords on hy, 355 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 s.h.i.+eld had right, 360 In equall lists they should the morrow next it fight.

XLI

Ah dearest Dame, (quoth then the Paynim bold,) Pardon the error of enraged wight, Whom great griefe made forget the raines to hold Of reasons rule, to see this recreant knight, 365 No knight, but treachour full of false despight And shamefull treason, who through guile hath slayn The prowest knight that ever field did fight, Even stout Sansfoy (O who can then refrayn?) Whose s.h.i.+eld he beares renverst, the more to heape disdayn.

XLII

370 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 bloudy field, and bought with woe: 375 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.

XLIII

But threw his gauntlet as a sacred pledge, 380 His cause in combat the next day to try: So been they parted both, with harts on edge To be aveng'd each on his enimy.

That night they pas in joy and jollity, Feasting and courting both in bowre and hall; 385 For Steward was excessive Gluttonie, That of his plenty poured forth to all; Which doen, the Chamberlain Slowth did to rest them call.

XLIV

Now whenas darkesome night had all displayed Her coleblacke curtein over brightest skye, 390 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, 395 Up-rose Duessa from her resting place, And to the Paynims lodging comes with silent pace.

XLV

Whom broad awake she finds, in troublous fit, Forecasting, how his foe he might annoy, And him amoves with speaches seeming fit: 400 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 greev'd, to thinke how foe did him destroy, That was the flowre of grace and chevalrye; 405 Lo his Fidessa to thy secret faith I flye.

XLVI

With gentle wordes he can her fairely greet, And bad say on the secret of her hart.

Then sighing soft, I learne that litle sweet Oft tempred is (quoth she) with much.e.l.l smart: 410 For since my brest was launcht with lovely dart Of deare Sans foy, 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.

XLVII

415 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 unworthy ware His worthy s.h.i.+eld, whom he with guilefull snare 420 Entrapped slew, and brought to shamefull grave.

Me silly maid away with him he bare, And ever since hath kept in darksome cave, For that I would not yeeld, that to Sans foy I gave.

XLVIII

But since faire Sunne hath sperst that lowring clowd, 425 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 belongs by right Of brothers prayse, to you eke longs his love.

430 Let not his love, let not his restlesse spright, Be unreveng'd, that calles to you above From wandring Stygian sh.o.r.es, where it doth endlesse move.

XLIX

Thereto said he, Faire Dame, be nought dismaid For sorrowes past; their griefe is with them gone: 435 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 deepe do grone: 440 He lives, that shall him pay his dewties last, And guiltie Elfin blood shall sacrifice in hast.

L

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, 445 Where both do fight alike, to win or yield?

Yea but (quoth she) he beares a charmed s.h.i.+eld, 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) 450 I no whit reck, ne you the like need to reherce.

LI

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, 455 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 secret aid Shall follow you. So pa.s.sing forth she him obaid.

CANTO V The faithfull knight in equall field subdewes his faithlesse foe, Whom false Duessa saves, and for his cure to h.e.l.l does goe.

I