The whyles sir Artegall with that old knight Did forth descend, there being none them neare, And forward marched to a towne in sight. By this came tydings to the tyrants eare, By those which earst did fly away for feare, Of their arrivall: wherewith troubled sore He all his forces streight to him did reare, And, forth issuing with his scouts afore, [shore: Meant them to have incountred ere they left the
But ere he marched farre he with them met, And fiercely charged them with all his force; But Talus sternely did upon them set, And brusht and battred them without remorse, That on the ground he left full many a corse; Ne any able was him to withstand, But he them overthrew both man and horse, That they lay scattred over all the land,
As thicke as doth the seede after the sowers hand:
Till Artegall him seeing so to rage
Willd him to stay, and signe of truce did make: To which all harkning did awhile asswage Their forces furie, and their terror slake; Till he an herauld cald, and to him spake, Willing him wend unto the tyrant streight, And tell him that not for such slaughters sake He thether came, but for to trie the right Of fayre Irenaes cause with him in single fight:
And willed him for to reclayme with speed His scattred people, ere they all were slaine; And time and place convenient to areed, In which they two the combat might darraine, Which message when Grantorto heard, full fayne And glad he was the slaughter so to stay; And pointed for the combat twixt them twayne The morrow next, ne gave him longer day: So sounded the retraite, and drew his folke away.
Like as a tender rose in open plaine, That with untimely drought nigh withered was, And hung the head, soone as few drops of raine Thereon distill and deaw her daintie face, Gins to look up, and with fresh wonted grace Dispreds the glorie of her leaves gay; Such was Irenas countenance, such her case, When Artegall she saw in that array, There wayting for the tyrant till it was farre day:
Who came at length with proud presumpteous gate Into the field, as if he fearelesse were,
All armed in a cote of yron plate
Of great defence to ward the deadly feare, And on his head a steele-cap he did weare Of colour rustie-browne, but sure and strong; And in his hand an huge polaxe did beare, Whose steale was yron-studded, but not long, With which he wont to fight, to justifie his wrong:
Of stature huge and hideous he was, Like to a giant for his monstrous hight, And did in strength most sorts of men surpas, Ne ever any found his match in might; Thereto he had great skill in single fight: His face was ugly and his countenance sterne, That could have frayd one with the very sight, And gaped like a gulfe when he did gerne ; That whether man or monster one could scarse dis-
Soone as he did within the listes appeare, With dreadfull looke he Artegall beheld, As if he would have daunted him with feare; And, grinning griesly, did against him weld His deadly weapon which in hand he held: But th' Elfin swayne, that oft had seene like sight, Was with his ghastly count'nance nothing queld: But gan him streight to buckle to the fight, And cast his shield about to be in readie plight.
The trompets sound; and they together goe With dreadfull terror and with fell intent; And their huge strokes full dangerously bestow, To doe most dammage whereas most they ment: But with such force and furie violent The tyrant thundred his thicke blowes so fast, That through the yron walles their way they rent, And even to the vitall parts they past, [brast. Ne ought could them endure, but all they cleft or
Which cruell outrage whenas Artegall Did well avize, thenceforth with warie heed He shund his strokes, where-ever they did fall, And way did give unto their gracelesse speed: As when a skilfull marriner doth reed A storme approching that doth perill threat, He will not bide the daunger of such dread, But strikes his sayles, and vereth his main-sheat, And lends unto it leave the emptie ayre to beat.
But, ere he coulde reforme it thoroughly, He through occasion called was away To Faerie court, that of necessity His course of justice he was forst to stay, And Talus to revoke from the right way, In which he was that realme for to redresse: But envies cloud still dimmeth vertues ray! So, having freed Irena from distresse,
He tooke his leave of her there left in heavinesse.
Tho, as he backe returned from that land, And there arriv'd againe whence forth he set, He had not passed farre upon the strand, Whenas two old ill-favour'd hags he met, By the way-side being together set,
Two griesly creatures; and, to that their faces Most foule and filthie were, their garments yet, Being all rag'd and tatter'd, their disgraces [cases. Did much the more augment, and made most ugly The one of them, that elder did appeare, With her dull eyes did seeme to looke askew, That her mis-shape much helpt: and her foule heare Hung loose and loathsomely; thereto her hew Was wan and leane, that all her teeth arew And all her bones might through her cheekes be red; Her lips were, like raw lether, pale and blew And as she spake, therewith she slavered; [she sed: Yet spake she seldom: but thought more, the lesse
Her hands were foule and durtie, never washt In all her life, with long nayles over-raught, Like puttocks clawes; with th' one of which she scratcht
Her cursed head, although it itched naught; The other held a snake with venime fraught, On which she fed and gnawed hungrily, As if that long she had not eaten ought; That round about her iawes one might descry The bloudic gore and poyson dropping lothsomely.
Her name was Envie, knowen well thereby; Whose nature is to grieve and grudge at all That ever she sees doen prays-worthily; Whose sight to her is greatest crosse may fall, And vexeth so, that makes her eat her gall: For, when she wanteth other thing to eat, She feedes on her owne maw unnaturall, And of her owne foule entrayles makes her meat; Meat fit for such a monsters monsterous dyeat:
And if she hapt of any good to heare, That had to any happily betid,
Then would she inly fret, and grieve, and teare
Her flesh for felnesse, which she inward hid; But if she heard of ill that any did,
Or harme that any had, then would she make Great cheare, like one unto a banquet bid; And in anothers losse great pleasure take, As she had got thereby and gayned a great stake.
The other nothing better was then shee; Agreeing in bad will and cancred kynd, But in bad maner they did disagree: For whatso Envie good or bad did fynd She did conceale, and murder her owne mynd; But this, whatever evill she conceived, Did spred abroad and throw in th' open wynd: Yet this in all her words might be perceived, That all she sought was mens good name to have bereaved.
For, whatsoever good by any sayd
Or doen she heard, she would streightwayes invent How to deprave or slaunderously upbrayd, Or to misconstrue of a mans intent,
And turne to ill the thing that well was ment: Therefore she used often to resort
To common haunts, and companies frequent, To hearke what any one did good report,
Then from her mouth the gobbet she does take, The which whyleare she was so greedily Devouring, even that halfe-gnawen snake, And at him throws it most despightfully: The cursed serpent, though she hungrily Earst chawd thereon, yet was not all so dead, But that some life remayned secretly; And, as he past afore withouten dread,
To blot the same with blame, or wrest in wicked Bit him behind, that long the marke was to be read.
And if that any ill she heard of any,
She would it eeke, and make much worse by telling, And take great ioy to publish it to many; That every matter worse was for her melling: Her name was hight Detraction, and her dwelling Was neare to Envie, even her neighbour next; A wicked hag, and Envy selfe excelling In mischiefe; for herselfe she only vext:
But this same both herselfe and others eke perplext.
Her face was ugly, and her mouth distort, Foming with poyson round about her gils, In which her cursed tongue full sharpe and short Appear'd like aspis sting, that closely kils, Or cruelly does wound whomso she wils: A distaffe in her other band she had, Upon the which she litle spinnes, but spils; And faynes to weave false tales and leasings bad, To throw amongst the good, which others had dis- prad.
These two now had themselves combynd in one, And linckt together gainst sir Artegall; For whom they wayted as his mortall fone, How they might make him into mischiefe fall, For freeing from their snares Irena thrall: Besides, unto themselves they gotten had A monster, which the Blatant Beast men call, A dreadfull feend of gods and men ydrad, [lad. Whom they by slights allur'd and to their purpose
Such were these bags, and so unhandsome drest: Who when they nigh approching had espyde Sir Artegall return'd from his late quest, They both arose, and at him loudly cryde, As it had bene two shepheards curres had scryde A ravenous wolfe amongst the scattered flockes: And Envie first, as she that first him eyde, Towardes him runs, and with rude flaring lockes About her eares does beat her brest and forhead knockes.
Then th' other comming neare gan him revile, And fouly rayle, with all she could invent; Saying that he had, with unmanly guile And foule abusion, both his honour bient, And that bright sword, the sword of Iustice lent, | Had stayned with reprochfull crueltie In guiltlesse blood of many an innocent: As for Grandtorto, him with treacherie And traynes having surpriz'd he fouly did to die. Thereto the Blatant Beast, by them set on, At him began aloud to barke and bay With bitter rage and fell contention; That all the woods and rockes nigh to that way Began to quake and tremble with disınay; And all the aire rebellowed againe;
So dreadfully his hundred tongues did bray: And evermore those hags themselves did paine To sharpen him, and their owne cursed tongs did straine.
And, still among, most bitter wordes they spake, Most shamefull, most unrighteous, most untrew, That they the mildest man alive would make Forget his patience, and yeeld vengeaunce dew To her, that so false sclaunders at him threw: And more, to make them pierce and wound more deepe,
She with the sting which in her vile tongue grew Did sharpen them, and in fresh poyson steepe: Yet he past on, and seem'd of them to take no keepe
But Talus, hearing her so lewdly raile And speake so ill of him that well deserved, Would her have chástiz'd with his yron flaile, If her sir Artegall had not preserved, And him forbidden, who his heast observed So much the more at him still did she scold, And stones did cast; yet he for nought would swerve From his right course, but still the way did hold To Faerie court; where what him fell shall else be told.
THE LEGEND OF SIR CALIDORE, OR OF COURTESIE.
THE waies, through which my weary steps I guyde | And spreds itselfe through all civilitie
In this delightfull land of Faery,
Are so exceeding spacious and wyde, And sprinckled with such sweet variety Of all that pleasant is to eare or eye,
That I, nigh ravisht with rare thoughts delight,
My tedious travell doe forget thereby;
And, when I gin to feele decay of might,
Of which though present age doe plenteous seeme, Yet, being matcht with plaine antiquitie,
Ye will them all but fayned showes esteeme, Which carry colours faire that feeble eies misdeeme:
But, in the triall of true curtesie,
Its now so farre from that which then it was,
It strength to me supplies and chears my dulled That it indeed is nought but forgerie, spright.
Such secret comfort and such heavenly pleasures, Ye sacred imps, that on Parnasso dwell,
And there the keeping have of learnings threasures Which doe all worldly riches farre excell, Into the mindes of mortall men doe well, And goodly fury into them infuse; Guyde ye my footing, and conduct me well In these strange waies where never foote did use, Ne none can find but who was taught them by the Muse:
Revele to me the sacred noursery
Of vertue, which with you doth there remaine, Where it in silver bowre does hidden ly From view of men and wicked worlds disdaine; Since it at first was by the gods with paine Planted in earth, being deriv'd at furst From heavenly seedes of bounty soveraine, And by them long with carefull labour nurst, Till it to ripenesse grew, and forth to honour burst.
Amongst them all growes not a fayrer flowre Then is the bloosme of comely courtesie; Which though it on a lowly stalke doe bowre, Yet brancheth forth in brave nobilitie,
Fashion'd to please the eies of them that pas, Which see not perfect things but in a glas: Yet is that glasse so gay that it can blynd The wisest sight, to thinke gold that is bras: But vertues seat is deepe within the mynd, And not in outward shows but inward thoughts defynd.
But where shall I in all antiquity
So faire a patterne finde, where may be seene The goodly praise of princely curtesie, As in yourselfe, O soveraine lady queene? In whose pure minde, as in a mirrour sheene, It showes, and with her brightnesse doth inflame The eyes of all which thereon fixed beene; But meriteth indeede an higher name: Yet so, from low to high, uplifted is your name.
Then pardon me, most dreaded soveraine, That from yourselfe I doe this vertue bring, And to yourselfe doe it returne againe: So from the ocean all rivers spring, And tribute backe repay as to their king: Right so from you all goodly vertues well Into the rest which round about you ring, Faire lords and ladies which about you dwell, And doe adorne your court where courtesies excell.
Calidore saves from Maleffort
A damzell used vylde:
Doth vanquish Crudor; and doth make Briana wexe more mylde.
Of court, it seemes, men courtesie doe call, For that it there most useth to abound; And well beseemeth that in princes hall That vertue should be plentifully found, Which of all goodly manners is the ground, And roote of civill conversation: Right so in Faery court it did redound, Where curteous knights and ladies most did won Of all on Earth, and made a matchlesse paragon.
But mongst them all was none more courteous Then Calidore, beloved over all: In whom it seemes that gentlenesse of spright And manners mylde were planted naturall; To which he adding comely guize withall And gracious speach, did steale mens hearts away: Nathlesse thereto he was full stout and tall, And well approv'd in batteilous affray, [play. That him did much renowme, and far his fame dis- Ne was there knight ne was there lady found In Faery court, but him did deare embrace For his faire usage and conditions sound, The which in all mens liking gayned place, And with the greatest purchast greatest grace; Which he could wisely use, and well apply, To please the best, and th' evill to embase: For he loathd leasing and base flattery, And loved simple truth and stedfast honesty.
And now he was in travell on his way, Uppon an hard adventure sore bestad, Whenas by chaunce he met uppon a day With Artegall, returning yet halfe sad From his late conquest which he gotten had : Who whenas each of other had a sight, They knew themselves, and both their persons rad: When Calidore thus first; "Haile, noblest knight Of all this day on ground that breathen living spright!
"Now tell, if please you, of the good successe Which ye have had in your late enterprize." To whom sir Artegall gan to expresse His whole exploite and valorous emprize, In order as it did to him arize.
"Now, happy man," said then sir Calidore, "Which have, so goodly as ye can devize, Atchiev'd so hard a quest, as few before; That shall you most renowmed make for evermore.
"But where yc ended have, now I begin To tread an endlesse trace; withouten guyde Or good direction how to enter in, Or how to issue forth in waies untryde, In perils strange, in labours long and wide; In which although good fortune me befall, Yet shall it not by none be testifyde." "What is that quest," quoth then sir Artegall,
That you into such perils presently doth call?"
"The Blattant Beast," quoth he, "I doe pursew, And through the world incessantly doe chase, Till I him overtake, or else subdew:
Yet know I not or how or in what place To find him out, yet still I forward trace." "What is that Blattant Beast then?" he replide; "Is it a monster bred of hellishe race,"
Then answered he, "which often hath annoyd Good knights and ladies true, and many else destroyd.
"Of Cerberus whilome he was begot And fell Chimæra, in her darkesome den, Through fowle commixture of his filthy blot; Where he was fostred long in Stygian fen, Till he to perfect ripenesse grew; and then Into this wicked world he forth was sent
To be the plague and scourge of wretched men : Whom with vile tongue and venemous intent He sore doth wound, and bite, and cruelly tor- ment."
"Then, since the Salvage Island I did leave," Sayd Artegall, "I such a beast did see, The which did seeme a thousand tongues to have, That all in spight and malice did agree, With which he bayd and loudly barkt at mee, As if that he attonce would me devoure: But I, that knew myselfe from perill free, Did nought regard his malice nor his powre; But he the more his wicked poyson forth did poure." "That surely is that beast," saide Calidore, "Which I pursue, of whom I am right glad To heare these tidings which of none afore Through all my weary travell I have had : Yet now some hope your words unto me add." "Now God you speed," quoth then sir Artegall, "And keepe your body from the daunger drad; For ye have much adoe to deale withal!!" So both tooke goodly leave, and parted severall.
Sir Calidore thence travelled not long, Whenas by chaunce a comely squire he found, That thorough some more mighty enemies wrong Both hand and foote unto a tree was bound; Who, seeing him from farre, with piteous sound Of his shrill cries him called to his aide: To whom approching, in that painefull stound When he him saw, for no demaunds he staide, But first him losde, and afterwards thus to him said;
Unhappy squire, what hard mishap thee brought Into this bay of perill and disgrace? What cruell hand thy wretched thraldome wrought, And thee captyved in this shamefull place?" To whom he answered thus; "My haplesse case Is not occasiond through my misdesert, But through misfortune, which did me abase Unto this shame, and my young hope subvert, Ere that I in her guilefull traines was well expert. "Not farre from hence, uppon yond rocky hill, Hard by a streight there stands a castle strong, Which doth observe a custome lewd and ill, And it hath long mayntaind with mighty wrong: For may no knight nor lady passe along That way, (and yet they needs must passe that way, By reason of the streight, and rocks among,) But they that ladies lockes doe shave away, And that knights beard, for toll which they for pas sage pay."
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