The Faerie Queene (75 page)

Which in an other Canto will be best contayned.

Talus brings newes to Britomart,
   of Artegals mishap,
She goes to seeke him, Dolon meetes,
   who seekes her to entrap.

1
Some men, I wote, will deeme in
Artegall

Great weaknesse, and report of him much ill,

For yeelding so himselfe a wretched thrall,

To th'insolent commaund of womens will;

That all his former praise doth fowly spill.

But he the man, that say or doe so dare,

Be well aduiz'd, that he stand stedfast still:

For neuer yet was wight so well aware,

But he at first or last was trapt in womens snare.

2
Yet in the streightnesse of that captiue state,

This gentle knight himselfe so well behaued,

That notwithstanding all the subtill bait,

With which those Amazons his loue still craued,

To his owne loue his loialtie he saued:

Whose character in th'Adamantine mould

Of his true hart so finnely was engraued,

That no new loues impression euer could

Bereaue it thence: such blot his honour blemish should.

3
Yet his owne loue, the noble
Britomart,

Scarse so concerned in her iealous thought,

What time sad tydings of his balefull smart

In womans bondage,
Talus
to her brought;

Brought in vntimely houre, ere it was sought.

For after that the vtmost date, assynde

For his returne, she waited had for nought,

She gan to cast in her misdoubtfull mynde

A thousand feares, that loue-sicke fancies faine to fynde.

4
Sometime she feared, least some hard mishap

Had him misfalne in his aduenturous quest;

Sometime least his false foe did him entrap

In traytrous traine, or had vnwares opprest:

But most she did her troubled mynd molest,

And secretly afflict with iealous feare,

Least some new loue had him from her possest;

Yet loth she was, since she no ill did heare,

To thinke of him so ill: yet could she not forbeare.

5
One while she blam'd her selfe; another whyle

She him condemn'd, as trustlesse and vntrew:

And then, her griefe with errour to beguyle,

She fayn'd to count the time againe anew,

As if before she had not counted trew.

For houres but dayes; for weekes, that passed were,

She told but moneths, to make them seeme more few:

Yet when she reckned them, still drawing neare,

Each hour did seeme a moneth, & euery moneth a yeare.

6
But when as yet she saw him not returne,

She thought to send some one to seeke him out;

But none she found so fit to serue that turne,

As her owne selfe, to ease her selfe of dout.

Now she deuiz'd amongst the warlike rout

Of errant Knights, to seeke her errant Knight;

And then againe resolu'd to hunt him out

Amongst loose Ladies, lapped in delight:

And then both Knights enuide, & Ladies eke did spight

7
One day, when as she long had sought for ease

In euery place, and euery place thought best,

Yet found no place, that could her liking please,

She to a window came, that opened West,

Towards which coast her loue his way addrest.

There looking forth, shee in her heart did find

Many vaine fancies, working her vnrest;

And sent her winged thoughts, more swift then wind,

To beare vnto her loue the message of her mind.

8
There as she looked long, at last she spide

One comming towards her with hasty speede:

Well weend she then, ere him she plaine descride,

That it was one sent from her loue indeede.

Who when he nigh approcht, shee mote arede

That it was
Talus, Artegall
his groome;

Whereat her heart was fild with hope and drede;

Ne would she stay, till he in place could come,

But ran to meete him forth, to know his tidings somme.

9
Euen in the dore him meeting, she begun;

And where is he thy Lord, and how far hence?

Declare at once; and hath he lost or wun?

The yron man, albe he wanted sence

And sorrowes feeling, yet with conscience

Of his ill newes, did inly chill and quake,

And stood still mute, as one in great suspence,

As if that by his silence he would make

Her rather reade his meaning, then him selfe it spake.

10
Till she againe thus sayd;
Talus
be bold,

And tell what euer it be, good or bad,

That from thy tongue thy hearts intent doth hold.

To whom he thus at length. The tidings sad,

That I would hide, will needs, I see, be rad.

My Lord, your loue, by hard mishap doth lie

In wretched bondage, wofully bestad.

Ay me (quoth she) what wicked destinie?

And is he vanquisht by his tyrant enemy?

11
Not by that Tyrant, his intended foe;

But by a Tyrannesse (he then replide.)

That him captiued hath in haplesse woe.

Cease thou bad newes-man, badly doest thou hide

Thy maisters shame, in harlots bondage tide.

The rest my selfe too readily can spell.

With that in rage she turn'd from him aside,

Forcing in vaine the rest to her to tell,

And to her chamber went like solitary cell.

12
There she began to make her monefull plaint

Against her Knight, for being so vntrew;

And him to touch with falshoods fowle attaint,

That all his other honour ouerthrew.

Oft did she blame her selfe, and often rew,

For yeelding to a straungers loue so light,

Whose life and manners straunge she neuer knew;

And euermore she did him sharpely twight

For breach of faith to her, which he had firmly plight.

13
And then she in her wrathfull will did cast,

How to reuenge that blot of honour blent;

To fight with him, and goodly die her last:

And then againe she did her selfe torment,

Inflicting on her selfe his punishment.

A while she walkt, and chauft; a while she threw

Her selfe vppon her bed, and did lament:

Yet did she not lament with loude alew,

As women wont, but with deepe sighes, and singulfs few.

14
like as a wayward childe, whose sounder sleepe

Is broken with some fearefull dreames affright,

With froward will doth set him selfe to weepe;

Ne can be stild for all his nurses might,

But kicks, and squals, and shriekes for fell despight:

Now scratching her, and her loose locks misusing;

Now seeking darkenesse, and now seeking light;

Then crauing sucke, and then the sucke refusing.

Such was this Ladies fit, in her loues fond accusing.

15
But when she had with such vnquiet fits

Her selfe there close afflicted long in vaine,

Yet found no easement in her troubled wits,

She vnto
Talus
forth return'd againe,

By change of place seeking to ease her paine;

And gan enquire of him, with mylder mood,

The certaine cause
of Artegals
detaine;

And what he did, and in what state he stood,

And whether he did woo, or whether he were woo'd.

16
Ah wellaway (sayd then the yron man,)

That he is not the while in state to woo;

But lies in wretched thraldome, weake and wan,

Not by strong hand compelled thereunto,

But his owne doome, that none can now vndoo.

Sayd I not then (quoth shee) erwhile aright,

That this is things compacte betwixt you two,

Me to deceiue of faith vnto me plight,

Since that he was not forst, nor ouercome in fight?

17
With that he gan at large to her dilate

The whole discourse of his captiuance sad,

In sort as ye haue heard the same of late.

All which when she with hard enduraunce had

Heard to the end, she was right sore bestad,

With sodaine stounds of wrath and griefe attone:

Ne would abide, till she had aunswere made,

But streight her selfe did dight, and armor don;

And mounting to her steede, bad
Talus
guide her on.

18
So forth she rode vppon her ready way,

To seeke her Knight, as
Talus
her did guide:

Sadly she rode, and neuer word did say,

Nor good nor bad, ne euer lookt aside,

But still right downe, and in her thought did hide

The felnesse of her heart, right fully bent

To fierce auengement of that womans pride,

Which had her Lord in her base prison pent,

And so great honour with so fowle reproch had blent

19
So as she thus melancholicke did ride,

Chawing the cud of griefe and inward paine,

She chaunst to meete toward th'euen-tide

A Knight, that softly paced on the plaine,

As if him selfe to solace he were faine.

Well shot in yeares he seem'd, and rather bent

To peace, then needlesse trouble to constraine.

As well by view of that his vestiment,

As by his modest semblant, that no euill ment

20
He comming neare, gan gently her salute

With curteous words.in the most comely wize;

Who though desirous rather to rest mute,

Then termes to entertaine of common guize,

Yet rather then she kindnesse would despize,

She would her selfe displease, so him requite.

Then gan the other further to deuize

Of things abrode, as next to hand did light,

And many things demaund, to which she answer'd light.

21
For little lust had she to talke of ought,

Or ought to heare, that mote delightfull bee;

Her minde was whole possessed of one thought,

That gaue none other place. Which when as hee

By outward signes, (as well he might) did see,

He list no lenger to vse lothfull speach,

But her besought to take it well in gree,

Sith shady dampe had dimd the heauens reach,

To lodge with him that night, vnles good cause empeach.

22
The Championesse, now seeing night at dore,

Was glad to yeeld vnto his good request:

And with him went without gaine-saying more.

Not farre away, but little wide by West,

His dwelling was, to which he him addrest;

Where soone arriuing they receiued were

In seemely wise, as them beseemed best:

For he their host them goodly well did cheare,

And talk't of pleasant things, the night away to weare.

23
Thus passing th'euening well, till time of rest,

Then
Britomart
vnto a bowre was brought;

Where groomes awayted her to haue vndrest.

But she ne would vndressed be for ought,

Ne doffe her armes, though he her much besought.

For she had vow'd, she sayd, not to forgo

Those warlike weedes, till she reuenge had wrought

Of a late wrong vppon a mortall foe;

Which she would sure performe, betide her wele or wo.

24
Which when their Host perceiu'd, right discontent

In minde he grew, for feare least by that art

He should his purpose misse, which close he ment:

Yet taking leaue of her, he did depart.

There all that night remained
Britomart,

Restlesse, recomfortlesse, with heart deepe grieued,

Not suffering the least twinckling sleepe to start

Into her eye, which th'heart mote haue relieued,

But if the least appear'd, her eyes she streight reprieued.

25
Ye guilty eyes (sayd she) the which with guyle

My heart at first betrayd, will ye betray

My life now to, for which a little whyle

Ye will not watch? false watches, wellaway,

I wote when ye did watch both night and day

Vnto your losse: and now needes will ye sleepe?

Now ye haue made my heart to wake alway,

Now will ye sleepe? ah wake, and rather weepe,

To thinke of your nights want, that should yee waking keepe.

26
Thus did she watch, and weare the weary night

In waylfull plaints, that none was to appease;

Now walking soft, now sitting still vpright,

As sundry chaunge her seemed best to ease.

Ne lesse did
Talus
suffer sleepe to seaze

His eye-lids sad, but watcht continually,

Lying without her dore in great disease;

Like to a Spaniell wayting carefully

Least any should betray his Lady treacherously.

27
what time the natiue Belman of the night,

The bird, that warned
Peter
of his fall,

First rings his siluer Bell t'each sleepy wight,

That should their mindes vp to deuotion call,

She heard a wondrous noise below the hall.

All sodainely the bed, where she should lie,

By a false trap was let adowne to fall

Into a lower roome, and by and by

The loft was raysd againe, that no man could it spie.

28
With sight whereof she was dismayd right sore,

Perceiuing well the treason, which was ment:

Yet stirred not at all for doubt of more,

But kept her place with courage confident,

Wayting what would ensue of that euent.

It was not long, before she heard the sound

Of armed men, comming with close intent

Towards her chamber; at which dreadfull stound