The Faerie Queene (89 page)

Ne would the Prince him euer foot forsake,

Where so he went, but after him did make.

He fled from roome to roome, from place to place,

Whylest euery ioynt for dread of death did quake,

Still looking after him, that did him chace;

That made him euermore increase his speedie pace.

30
At last he vp into the chamber came,

Whereas his loue was sitting all alone,

Wayting what tydings of her folke became.

There did the Prince him ouertake anone,

Crying in vaine to her, him to bemone;

And with his sword him on the head did smyte,

That to the ground he fell in senselesse swone:

Yet whether thwart or flatly it did lyte,

The tempred Steele did not into his braynepan byte.

31
Which when the Ladie saw, with great affright

She starting vp, began to shrieke aloud,

And with her garment couering him from sight,

Seem'd vnder her protection him to shroud;

And Ming lowly at his feet, her bowd

Vpon her knee, intreating him for grace,

And often him besought, and prayd, and vowd;

That with the ruth of her so wretched case,

He stayd his second strooke, and did his hand abase.

32
Her weed she then withdrawing, did him discouer,

Who now come to himselfe, yet would not rize,

But still did lie as dead, and quake, and quiuer,

That euen the Prince his basenesse did despize,

And eke his Dame him seeing in such guize,

Gan him recomfort, and from ground to reare.

Who rising vp at last in ghastly wize,

Like troubled ghost did dreadfully appeare,

As one that had no life him left through former feare.

33
Whom when the Prince so deadly saw dismayd,

He for such basenesse shamefully him shent,

And with sharpe words did bitterly vpbrayd;

Vile cowheard dogge, now doe I much repent,

That euer I this life vnto thee lent,

Whereof thou caytiue so vnworthie art;

That both thy loue, for lacke of hardiment,

And eke thy selfe, for want of manly hart,

And eke all knights hast shamed with this knightlesse part.

34
Yet further hast thou heaped shame to shame,

And crime to crime, by this thy cowheard feare.

For first it was to thee reprochfull blame,

To erect this wicked custome, which I heare,

Gainst errant Knights and Ladies thou dost reare;

Whom when thou mayst, thou dost of arms despoile

Or of their vpper garment, which they weare:

Yet doest thou not with manhood, but with guile

Maintaine this euill vse, thy foes thereby to foile.

35
And lastly in approuance of thy wrong,

To shew such faintnesse and foule cowardize,

Is greatest shame: for oft it falles, that strong

And valiant knights doe rashly enterprize,

Either for fame, or else for exercize,

A wrongfull quarrell to maintaine by fight;

Yet haue, through prowesse and their braue emprize,

Gotten great worship in this worldes sight.

For greater force there needs to maintaine wrong, then right.

36
Yet since thy life vnto this Ladie fayre

I giuen haue, liue in reproch and scorne;

Ne euer armes, ne euer knighthood dare

Hence to professe: for shame is to adorne

With so braue badges one so basely borne;

But onely breath sith that I did forgiue.

So hauing from his crauen bodie torne

Those goodly armes, he them away did giue

And onely suffred him this wretched life to liue.

37
There whilest he thus was setting things aboue,

Atwene that Ladie myld and recreant knight,

To whom his life he graunted for her loue,

He gan bethinke him, in what perilous plight

He had behynd him left that saluage wight,

Amongst so many foes, whom sure he thought

By this quite slaine in so vnequall fight:

Therefore descending backe in haste, he sought

If yet he were aliue, or to destruction brought.

38
There he him found enuironed about

With slaughtred bodies, which his hand had slaine,

And laying yet a fresh with courage stout

Vpon the rest, that did aliue remaine;

Whom he likewise right sorely did constraine,

Like scattred sheepe, to seeke for safetie,

After he gotten had with busie paine

Some of their weapons, which thereby did lie,

With which he layd about, and made them fast to flie.

39
Whom when the Prince so felly saw to rage,

Approching to him neare, his hand he stayd,

And sought, by making signes, him to asswage:

Who them perceiuing, streight to him obayd,

As to his Lord, and downe his weapons layd,

As if he long had to his heasts bene trayned.

Thence he him brought away, and vp conuayd

Into
the chamber, where that Dame remayned

With her vnworthy knight, who ill him entertayned.

40
Whom when the Saluage saw from daunger free,

Sitting beside his Ladie there at ease,

He well remembred, that the same was hee,

Which lately sought his Lord for to displease:

Tho all in rage, he on him streight did seaze,

As if he would in peeces him haue rent;

And were not, that the Prince did him appeaze,

He had not left one limbe of him vnrent:

But streight he held his hand at his commaundement.

41
Thus hauing all things well in peace ordayned,

The Prince himselfe there all that night did rest,

Where him
Blandina
fayrely entertayned,

With all the courteous glee and goodly feast,

The which for him she could imagine best.

For well she knew the wayes to win good will

Of euery wight, that were not too infest,

And how to please the minds of good and ill,

Through tempering of her words & lookes by wondrous skill.

42
Yet were her words and lookes but false and fayned,

To some hid end to make more easie way,

Or to allure such fondlings, whom she trayned

Into her trap vnto their owne decay:

Thereto, when needed, she could weepe and pray,

And when her listed, she could fawne and flatter;

Now smyling smoothly, like to sommers day,

Now glooming sadly, so to cloke her matter;

Yet were her words but wynd, & all her teares but water.

43
Whether such grace were giuen her by kynd,

As women wont their guilefull wits to guyde;

Or learn'd the art to please, I doe not fynd.

This well I wote, that she so well applyde

Her pleasing tongue, that soone she pacifyde

The wrathfull Prince, & wrought her husbands peace.

Who nathelesse not therewith satisfyde,

His rancorous despight did not releasse,

Ne secretly from thought of fell reuenge surceasse.

44
For all that night, the whyles the Prince did rest

In carelesse couch, not weeting what was ment,

He watcht in close awayt with weapons prest,

Willing to worke his villenous intent

On him, that had so shamefully him stent:

Yet durst he not for very cowardize

Effect the same, whylest all the night was spent.

The morrow next the Prince did early rize,

And passed forth, to follow his first enterprize.

Turpine is baffuld, his two knights
   doe game their treasons meed,
Fayre Mirabeltaes punishment
   for hues disdaine decreed.

1
Like as the gentle hart it selfe bewrayes,

In doing gentle deedes with franke delight,

Euen so the baser mind it selfe displayes,

In cancred malice and reuengefull spight.

For to maligne, t'enuie, t'vse shifting slight,

Be arguments of a vile donghill mind,

Which what it dare not doe by open might,

To worke by wicked treason wayes doth find,

By such discourteous deeds discouering his base kind.

2
That well appeares in this discourteous knight,

The coward
Turpine,
whereof now I treat;

Who notwithstanding that in former fight

He of the Prince his life receiued late,

Yet in his mind malitious and ingrate

He gan deuize, to be aueng'd anew

For all that shame, which kindled inward hate.

Therefore so soone as he was out of vew,

Himselfe in hast he arm'd, and did him fast pursew.

3
Well did he tract his steps, as he did ryde,

Yet would not neare approch in daungers eye,

But kept aloofe for dread to be descryde,

Vntill fit time and place he mote espy,

Where he mote worke him scath and villeny.

At last he met two knights to him vnknowne,

The which were armed both agreeably,

And both combynd, what euer chaunce were blowne,

Betwixt them to diuide, and each to make his owne.

4
To whom false
Turpine
comming courteously,

To cloke the mischiefe, which he inly ment,

Gan to complaine of great discourtesie,

Which a straunge knight, that neare afore him went,

Had doen to him, and his deare Ladie shent:

Which if they would afford him ayde at need

For to auenge, in time conuenient,

They should accomplish both a knightly deed,

And for their paines obtaine of him a goodly meed.

5
The knights beleeu'd, that all he sayd, was trew,

And being fresh and full of youthly spright,

Were glad to heare of that aduenture new,

In which they mote make triall of their might,

Which neuer yet they had approu'd in fight;

And eke desirous of the offred meed,

Said then the one of them; where is that wight,

The which hath doen to thee this wrongfull deed,

That we may it auenge, and punish him with speed?

6
He rides (said
Turpine)
there not farre afore,

With a wyld man soft footing by his syde,

That if ye list to haste a litle more,

Ye may him ouertake in timely tyde:

Eftsoones they pricked forth with forward pryde,

And ere that lide while they ridden had,

The gentle Prince not farre away they spyde,

Ryding a softly pace with portance sad,

Deuizing of his loue more, then of daunger drad.

7
Then one of them aloud vnto him cryde,

Bidding him turne againe, false traytour knight,

Foule womanwronger, for he him defyde.

With that they both at once with equall spight

Did bend their speares, and both with equall might

Against him ran; but th'one did misse his marke,

And being carried with his force forthright,

Glaunst swiftly by; like to that heauenly sparke,

Which glyding through the ayre lights all the heauens darke.

8
But th'other ayming better, did him smite

Full in the shield, with so impetuous powre,

That all his launce in peeces shiuered quite,

And scattered all about, fell on the flowre.

But the stout Prince, with much more steddy stowre

Full on his beuer did him strike so sore,

That the cold steele through piercing, did deuowre

His vitall breath, and to the ground him bore,

Where still he bathed lay in his owne bloody gore.

9
As when a cast of Faulcons make their flight

At an Herneshaw, that lyes aloft on wing,

The whyles they strike at him with heedlesse might,

The warie foule his bill doth backward wring;

On which the first, whose force her first doth bring,

Her selfe quite through the bodie doth engore,

And falleth downe to ground like senselesse thing,

But th'other not so swift, as she before,

Fayles of her souse, and passing by doth hurt no more.

10
By this the other, which was passed by,

Himselfe recouering, was return'd to fight;

Where when he saw his fellow lifelessely,

He much was daunted with so dismall sight;

Yet nought abating of his former spight,

Let driue at him with so malitious mynd,

As if he would haue passed through him quight:

But the steele-head no stedfast hold could fynd,

But glauncing by, deceiu'd him of that he desynd.

11
Not so the Prince: for his well learned speare

Tooke surer hould, and from his horses backe

Aboue a launces length him forth did beare,

And gainst the cold hard earth so sore him strake,

That all his bones in peeces nigh he brake.

Where seeing him so lie, he left his steed,

And to him leaping, vengeance thought to take

Of him, for all his former follies meed,

With flaming sword in hand his terror more to breed.

12
The fearefull swayne beholding death so nie,

Cryde out aloud for mercie him to saue;

In lieu whereof he would to him descrie,

Great treason to him meant, his life to reaue.

The Prince soone hearkned, and his life forgaue.

Then thus said he, There is a straunger knight,

The which for promise of great meed, vs draue

To this attempt, to wreake his hid despight,

For that himselfe thereto did want sufficient might.

13
The Prince much mused at such villenie,

And sayd; Now sure ye well haue earn'd your meed,

For th'one is dead, and th'other soone shall die,

Vnlesse to me thou hether bring with speed

The wretch, that hyr'd you to this wicked deed,

He glad of life, and willing eke to wreake

The guilt on him, which did this mischiefe breed,

Swore by his sword, that neither day nor weeke

He would surceasse, but him, where so he were, would seeke.

14
So vp he rose, and forth straight way he went

Backe to the place, where
Turpine
late he lore;

There he him found in great astonishment,

To see him so bedight with bloodie gore,

And griesly wounds that him appalled sore.

Yet thus at length he said, how now Sir knight?

What meaneth this, which here I see before?

How fortuneth this foule vncomely plight,

So different from that, which earst ye seem'd in sight?

15
Perdie (said he) in euill houre it fell,

That euer I for meed did vndertake

So hard a taske, as life for hyre to sell;

The which I earst aduentur'd for your sake.

Witnesse the wounds, and this wyde bloudie lake,

Which ye may see yet all about me steeme.

Therefore now yeeld, as ye did promise make,

My due reward, the which right well I deeme

I yearned haue, that life so dearely did redeeme.

16
But where then is (quoth he halfe wrothfully)

Where is the bootie, which therefore I bought,

That cursed caytiue, my strong enemy,

That recreant knight, whose hated life I sought?

And where is eke your friend, which halfe it ought?

He lyes (said he) vpon the cold bare ground,

Slayne of that errant knight, with whom he fought;

Whom afterwards my selfe with many a wound

Did slay againe, as ye may see there in the stound.

17
Thereof false
Turpin
was full glad and faine,

And needs with him streight to the place would ryde,

Where he himselfe might see his foeman slaine;

For else his feare could not be satisfyde.

So as they rode, he saw the way all dyde

With streames of bloud; which trading by the traile,

Ere long they came, whereas in euill tyde

That other swayne, like ashes deadly pale,

Lay in the lap of death, rewing his wretched bale.

18
Much did the Crauen seeme to mone his case,

That for his sake his deare life had forgone;

And him bewayling with affection base,

Did counterfeit kind pittie, where was none:

For wheres no courage, theres no ruth nor mone.

Thence passing forth, not farre away he found,

Whereas the Prince himselfe lay all alone,

Loosely displayd vpon the grassie ground,

Possessed of sweete sleepe, that luld him soft in swound.

19
Wearie of trauell in his former fight,

He there in shade himselfe had layd to rest,

Hauing his armes and warlike things vndight,

Fearelesse of foes that mote his peace molest;

The whyles his saluage page, that wont be prest,

Was wandred in the wood another way,

To doe some thing, that seemed to him best,

The whyles his Lord in siluer slomber lay,

Like to the Euening starre adorn'd with deawy ray.

20
Whom when as
Turpin
saw so loosely layd,

He weened well, that he in deed was dead,

Like as that other knight to him had sayd:

But when he nigh approcht, he mote aread

Plaine signes in him of life and liuelihead.

Whereat much grieu'd against that straunger knight,

That him too light of credence did mislead,

He would haue backe retyred from that sight,

That was to him on earth the deadliest despight.

21
But that same knight would not once let him start,

But plainely gan to him declare the case

Of all his mischiefe, and late lucklesse smart;

How both he and his fellow there in place

Were vanquished, and put to foule disgrace,

And how that he in lieu of life him lent,

Had vow'd vnto the victor, him to trace

And follow through the world, where so he went,

Till that he him deliuered to his punishment.

22
He therewith much abashed and affrayd,

Began to tremble euery limbe and vaine;

And softly whispering him, entyrely prayd,

T'aduize him better, then by such a traine

Him to betray vnto a straunger swaine:

Yet rather counseld him contrarywize,

Sith he likewise did wrong by him sustaine,

To ioyne with him and vengeance to deuize,

Whylest time did offer meanes him sleeping to surprize.

23
Nathelesse for all his speach, the gentle knight

Would not be tempted to such villenie,

Regarding more his faith, which he did plight,

All were it to his mortall enemie,

Then to entrap him by false treacherie:

Great shame in lieges blood to be embrew'd.

Thus whylest they were debating diuerslie,

The Saluage forth out of the wood issew'd

Backe to the place, whereas his Lord he sleeping vew'd

24
There when he saw those two so neare him stand,

He doubted much what mote their meaning bee,

And throwing downe his load out of his hand,

To weet great store of forrest firute, which hee

Had for his food late gathered from the tree,

Himselfe vnto his weapon he betooke,

That was an oaken plant, which lately hee

Rent by the roof, which he so sternely shooke,

That like an hazell wand, it quiuered and quooke.

25
Whereat the Prince awaking, when he spyde

The traytour
Turpin
with that other knight,

He started vp, and snatching neare his syde

His trustie sword, the seruant of his might,

Like a fell Lyon leaped to him light,

And his left hand vpon his collar layd.

Therewith the cowheard deaded with affright,

Fell flat to ground, ne word vnto him sayd,

But holding vp his hands, with silence mercie prayd.

26
But he so full of indignation was,

That to his prayer nought he would incline,

But as he lay vpon the humbled gras,

His foot he set on his vile necke, in signe

Of seruile yoke, that nobler harts repine.

Then letting him arise like abiect thrall,

He gan to him obiect his haynous crime,

And to reuile, and rate, and recreant call,

And lastly to despoyle of knightly bannerall.

27
And after all, for greater infamie,

He by the heeles him hung vpon a tree,

And baffuld so, that all which passed by,

The picture of his punishment might see,

And by the like ensample warned bee,

How euer they through treason doe trespasse.

But turne we now backe to that Ladie free,

Whom late we left ryding vpon an Asse,

Led by a Carle and foole, which by her side did passe.

28
She was a Ladie of great dignitie,

And lifted vp to honorable place,

Famous through all the land of Faerie,

Though of meane parentage and kindred base,

Yet deckt with wondrous giftes of natures grace,

That all men did her person much admire,

And praise the feature of her goodly face,

The beames whereof did kindle louely fire

In th'harts of many a knight, and many a gentle squire.