O then, too weak and feeble was the force
Of salvage beast, his puissance to withstand!
For he was strong, and of so mighty corse,
As ever wielded spear in warlike hand;
And feats of arms did wisely understand.
Eftsoones he piercéd through his chafed chest
With thrilling point of deadly iron brand,
And lanc't his lordly heart: with death op-
prest,

He roar'd aloud, whiles life forsook his stubborn breast.

Who now is left to keep the forlorn maid From raging spoil of lawless victor's will? Her faithful guard remov'd; her hope dismay'd;

Herself a yielded prey to save or spill! He now, lord of the field, his pride to fill, With foul reproaches and disdainful spite Her vilely entertains; and, will or nill, Bears her away upon his courser light: Her prayers naught prevail; his rage is more of might.

And all the way, with great lamenting pain, And piteous plaints, she filleth his dull ears, That stony heart could riven have in twain; And all the way she wets with flowing tears; But he, enrag'd with rancor, nothing hears. Her servile beast' yet would not leave her so, But follows her far off, ne aught he fears To be partaker of her wand'ring woe. More mild in beastly kind, than that her beastly

CANTO IV.

To sinful House of Pride Duess

a guides the faithful Knight; Where, brother's death to wreak, Sansjoy Doth challenge him to fight.

[foe.

YOUNG knight whatever, that dost arms profess,

And through long labors huntest after fame, Beware of fraud, beware of fickleness, In choice, and change, of thy dear-lovéd dame; Lest thou of her believe too lightly blame, And rash misweening do thy heart remove: For unto knight there is no greater shame, Than lightness and inconstancy in love: That doth this Redcross Knight's ensample plainly

prove.

Who, after that he had fair Una lorn,
Through light misdeeming of her loyalty;
And false Duessa in her stead had borne,
Calléd Fidessa, and so suppos'd to be;
Long with her travell'd; till at last they see
A goodly building, bravely garnished;
The house of mighty prince it seem'd to be;
And towards it a broad highway that led,
All bare through people's feet, which thither trav
elléd.

Great troops of people travell'd thitherward
Both day and night, of each degree and place;
But few returnéd, having scapéd hard,
With baleful beggary, or foul disgrace;

1 Servile beast; " i. e., her serviceable ass.

Which ever after in most wretched case, Like loathsome lazars, by the hedges lay. Thither Duessa bade him bend his pace; For she is weary of the toilsome way; And also nigh consuméd is the ling'ring day.

A stately palace built of squaréd brick, Which cunningly was without mortar laid, Whose walls were high, but nothing strong nor thick,

And golden foil all over them display'd, That purest sky with brightness they dismay'd; High lifted up were many lofty towers, And goodly galleries far over laid, Full of fair windows and delightful bowers; And on the top a dial told the timely hours.

It was a goodly heap for to behold,

And spake the praises of the workman's wit:
But full great pity, that so fair a mould
Did on so weak foundation ever sit :

For on a sandy hill, that still did flit
And fall away, it mounted was full high:
That every breath of heaven shakéd it:
And all the hinder parts, that few could spy,
Were ruinous and old, but painted cunningly.

Arrivéd there, they passéd in forth right; For still to all the gates stood open wide: Yet charge of them was to a porter hight, Call'd Malvenú, who entrance none denied: Thence to the hall, which was on every side With rich array and costly arras dight: Infinite sorts of people did abide

There waiting long, to win the wished sight Of her, that was the lady of that palace bright.

So proud she shinéd in her princely state, Looking to heaven; for earth she did disdain : And sitting high; for lowly she did hate: Lo, underneath her scornful feet was lain A dreadful dragon with an hideous train; And in her hand she held a mirror bright, Wherein her face she often viewéd fain, And in her self-lov'd semblance took delight; For she was wondrous fair, as any living wight.

Of grisly Pluto she the daughter was, And sad Prosérpina, the queen of hell; Yet did she think her peerless worth to pass That parentage, with pride so did she swell; And thund'ring Jove, that high in heaven doth dwell

And wield the world, she claimed for her sire; Or if that any else did Jove excel; For to the highest she did still aspire; Or, if aught higher were than that, did it desire.

And proud Lucifera men did her call, That made herself a queen, and crown'd to be; Yet rightful kingdom she had none at all, Ne heritage of native sovereignty; But did usurp with wrong and tyranny Upon the sceptre, which she now did hold: Ne rul'd her realm with laws, but policy, And strong advizement of six wizards old, That with their counsels bad her kingdom did uphold.

Soon as the Elfin Knight in presence came,
And false Duessa, seeming lady fair,
A gentle usher, Vanity by name,
Made room, and passage for them did prepare:
So goodly brought them to the lowest stair
Of her high throne; where they, on humble
knee

Making obeisance, did the cause declare, Why they were come, her royal state to see, To prove the wide report of her great majesty.

With lofty eyes, half loth to look so low, She thanked them in her disdainful wise; Ne other grace vouchsaféd them to show Of princess worthy; scarce them bade arise. Her lords and ladies all this while devise Themselves to setten forth to strangers' sight: Some frounce their curled hair in courtly guise; Some prank their ruffs; and others trimly dight Their gay attire: each other's greater pride does spite.

Goodly they all that Knight do entertain, Right glad with him to have increas'd their

crew;

But to Duess' each one himself did pain All kindness and fair courtesy to shew; For in that court whilome her well they knew: Yet the stout Faery mongst the middest crowd Thought all their glory vain in knightly view, And that great princess too exceeding proud, That to strange knight no better countenance allow'd.

Sudden upriseth from her stately place
The royal dame, and for her coach doth call:
All hurtle forth; and she, with princely pace,
As fair Aurora, in her purple pall,

Out of the east the dawning day doth call, So forth she comes; her brightness broad doth blaze.

The heaps of people, thronging in the hall, Do ride each other, upon her to gaze: Her glorious glittering light doth all men's eyes

amaze.

So forth she comes, and to her coach does climb,

Adornéd all with gold and garlands gay,
That seem'd as fresh as Flora in her prime;
And strove to match, in royal rich array,
Great Juno's golden chair; the which, they
say,

The gods stand gazing on, when she does ride To Jove's high house through heaven's brasspaved way,

Drawn of fair peacocks, that excel in pride, And full of Argus eyes their tails dispredden wide.

But this was drawn of six unequal beasts, On which her six sage counsellors did ride, Taught to obey their bestial behests, With like conditions to their kinds applied: Of which the first, that all the rest did guide, Was sluggish Idleness, the nurse of sin; Upon a slothful ass he chose to ride, Array'd in habit black, and amice thin; Like to an holy monk, the service to begin.

And in his hand his portesse1 still he bare, That much was worn, but therein little read; For of devotion he had little care,

Still drown'd in sleep and most of his days dead:

Scarce could he once uphold his heavy head, To looken whether it were night or day. May seem the wain was very evil led, When such an one had guiding of the way, That knew not, whether right he went or else astray.

From worldly cares himself he did esloyne, And greatly shunnéd manly exercise; From every work he challengéd essoyne, For contemplation' sake: yet otherwise His life he led in lawless riotise; By which he grew to grievous malady: For in his lustless limbs, through evil guise, A shaking fever reign'd continually : Such one was Idleness, first of this company.

And by his side rode loathsome Gluttony,
Deformed creature, on a filthy swine;
His belly was upblown with luxury,
And eke with fatness swollen were his eyne;
And like a crane his neck was long and fine,
With which he swallow'd up excessive feast,
For want whereof poor people oft did pine:
And all the way, most like a brutish beast,
He spuéd up his gorge, that all did him deteast.

In green vine leaves he was right fitly clad;
For other clothes he could not wear for heat:
And on his head an ivy garland had,
From under which fast trickled down the sweat:

Still as he rode, he somewhat still did eat, And in his hand did bear a bouzing can, Of which he supt so oft, that on his seat His drunken corse he scarce upholden can: In shape and life more like a monster than a man.

Unfit he was for any worldly thing,
And eke unable once to stir or go;
Not meet to be of counsel to a king,

Whose mind in meat and drink was drownéd so,
That from his friend he seldom knew his foe:
Full of diseases was his carcase blue,
And a dry dropsy 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 lustful Lechery
Upon a bearded goat, whose rugged hair,
And whally eyes, (the sign of jealousy),
Was like the person self, whom he did bear:
Who rough, and black, and filthy, did appear;
Unseemly man to please fair lady's eye:
Yet he of ladies oft was lovéd dear,
When fairer faces were bid standen by:

O who does know the bent of women's fantasy!

In a green gown he clothed was full fair,
Which underneath did hide his filthiness;
And in his hand a burning heart he bare,
Full of vain follies and new-fangleness;
For he was false, and fraught with fickleness;
And learned had to love with secret looks;
And well could dance; and sing with ruefulness;
And fortunes tell; and read in loving books:
And thousand other ways, to bait his fleshly hooks.

Inconstant man, that lovéd all he saw,
And lusted after all, that he did love;
Ne would his looser life be tied to law,
But joy'd weak women's hearts to tempt, and
prove,

If from their loyal loves he might them move:
Which lewdness fill'd him with reproachful pain
Of that foul evil, which all men reprove,
That rots the marrow, and consumes the brain:
Such one was Lechery, the third of all this train.

He hated all good works and virtuous deeds, And him no less, that any like did use; And, who with gracious bread the hungry feeds, His alms for want of faith he doth accuse; So every good to bad he doth abuse: And eke the verse of famous poets' wit He does backbite, and spiteful poison spues From leprous mouth on all that ever writ: Such one vile Envy was, that fifth in row did sit.

And him beside rides fierce revenging Wrath, Upon a lion, loth for to be led ;

And in his hand a burning brand he hath, The which he brandisheth about his head: His eyes did hurl forth sparkles fiery red, And staréd stern on all that him beheld; As ashes pale of hue, and seeming dead; And on his dagger still his hand he held, Trembling through hasty rage, when choler in him swell'd.

His ruffian raiment all was stain'd with blood Which he had spilt, and all to rags yrent; Through unadviséd rashness waxen wood; For of his hands he had no government, Ne car'd for blood in his avengëment: But when the furious fit was overpast, His cruel acts he often would repent; Yet, wilful man, he never would forecast, [haste. How many mischiefs should ensue his heedless

Full many mischiefs follow cruel Wrath; Abhorréd Bloodshed, and tumultuous Strife, Unmanly Murder, and unthrifty Seath, Bitter Despite with Rancor's rusty knife;