The Redcrosse
knight to Britomart
describeth :
, by which she
in louelove with him did fall.
[1]
hauehave I cause in men iustjust blame to find,
That in their proper
praise too partiall bee,
And not indifferent to
woman kind,
To whom no share in armes and cheualreechevalree,
They doe impart, ne maken memoree
Of their brauebrave gestes and prowesse martiall;
Scarse doe they spare to one or two or three,
Rowme in their writtes; yet the same writing small
Does all their deedes deface, and dims their glories all.all:all,
[2]
by record of antique times I finde,
That wemen wont in warres to beare most sway,
And to all great exploites them seluesselves inclind:
Of which they still the girlond bore away,
Till enuiousenvious Men fearing their rules decay,
Gan coyne streight lawes
to curb their liberty,
Yet sith they warlike armes hauehave laide away,
They hauehave exceld in artes and pollicy,
That now we foolish men that prayse gin eke t’.
[3]
Of warlike puissaunce in ages spent,
Be thou faire Britomart, whose prayse I
wryte,
But of all wisedom bee thou ,
O souerainesoveraine Queene, whose prayse I would endyte,
Endite I would as dewtie
doth excyte;
But ah my rymes tooto rude and rugged arre,
When in so high an obiectobject they doe lyte,
And striuingstriving, fit to make, I feare doe marre:
Thy selfe thy prayses tell, and make them
knowen farre.
[4]
She traueilingtraveiling
with Guyon by the way,
Of sondry thinges faire purpose gan to find,
T’abridg their iourneyjourney long, and lingring day;
Mongst which it fell into that Fairies mind,
To aske this ,
what vncouthuncouth wind,
Brought her into those partes, and what inquest
Made her :
Faire Lady she him seemd,
like Lady drest,
But fairest knight aliuealive, when .
[5]
Thereat she sighing softly, had no powre
To speake a while, ne ready answere make,
But with hart-thrilling throbs and bitter stowre,
As if she had a feuerfever fitt, did quake,
And eueryevery daintie limbe with horrour shake,
And euerever and anone the rosy red,
Flasht through her face, as it had beene a flake
Of lightning, through bright heuenheven
fulmined;
At last the passion past she thus him
answered.
[6]
Sir, I let you weete, that from the howre
I taken was from nourses tender pap,
I hauehave beene trained vpup in warlike ,
To tossen speare and shield, and to affrap
The warlike ryder to his most mishap;
Sithence I loathed hauehave my life to lead,
As Ladies wont, in pleasures wanton lap,
To finger the fine needle and nyce thread,thread;
Me leuerlever were with point of foemans
speare be dead.
[7]
on deedes of armes is sett,
To hunt out perilles and aduenturesadventures hard,
By sea, by land, where so they may be mett,
Onely for honour and for high regard,
Without respect of richesse or reward.
For such intent into these partes I came,
Withouten compasse, or withouten ,
Far fro my natiuenative soyle, that is by name
The greater
BrytayneBritaine, here to seeke for praise and fame.
[8]
Fame blazed hath, that here in Faery lond
Doe many famous knightes and Ladies wonne,
And many straunge aduenturesadventures to bee fond,
Of which great worth and worship may be wonne;
Which
to proue, Ito prove, I
I to proue,I to prove, this voyage
hauehave begonne.
But mote I weet of you, right courteous knight,
Tydings of one, that hath vntounto me donne
Late foule dishonour and reprochfull spight,
The which I seeke to wreake, and Arthegall he hight.
[9]
The word gone out, she backe againe would call,
As her repenting so to hauehave
missayd,
But that he it ,
Her shortly answered; Faire martiall Mayd
Certes ye misauisedmisavised beene, t’vpbraydupbrayd,
A gentle knight with so vnknightlyunknightly blame:
For weet ye well of all, that euerever playd
At tilt or tourney, or like warlike game,
The noble Arthegall hath euerever
borne the name.
[10]
For
thy great wonder were it, if such shame
Should euerever enter in his bounteous thought,
Or euerever doe, that mote deseruendeserven blame:
The noble corage neuernever weeneth ought,
That may vnworthyunworthy of itselfe be thought.
Therefore, faire
Damzell, be ye well aware,
Least that too farre ye hauehave your sorrow sought:
You and your countrey both I wish welfare,
And honour both; for each of other worthy
are.
[11]
The royall Maid woxe inly wondrous glad,
To heare her LoueLove so highly magnifyde,
And ioydjoyd that euerever she affixed had,
Her hart on knight so goodly glorifyde,
How euerever finely she it faind to hyde:
The louingloving mother, that nine monethes did beare,
In the deare closett of
her painefull syde,
Her tender babe, it seeing safe appeare,
Doth not so much reioycerejoyce, as she reioycedrejoyced theare.
[12]
But to occasion him to further talke,
To feed her humor with his pleasing style,
Her list in stryfull
termes with him to balke,
And thus replyde, How euerever, Sir, ye fyle
Your courteous tongue, his prayses to compyle,
It ill beseemes a knight of gentle sort,
Such as ye hauehave him boasted, to beguyle
A simple maide, and worke so hainous tort,
In shame of knighthood, as I largely can report.
[13]
Let bee therefore my vengeaunce to
disswade,
And read, where I that
faytour false may find.
Ah, but if reason faire might you perswade,
To slake your wrath, and mollify your mind,
(Said he) perhaps ye should it better find:
For hardie thing it is, to weene by might,
That man to hard conditions to bind,
Or euerever hope to match in equall fight,
[14]
soothlich is it easie for to read,
Where now on earth, or how he may be fownd;
For he ne wonneth in one
certeine stead,
But restlesse walketh all the world arownd,
Ay doing thinges, that to his fame redownd,
Defending Ladies cause, and Orphans right,
Where so he heares, that any doth confownd
Them comfortlesse, through tyranny or might;
So is his souerainesoveraine honour raisde to heuenshevens hight.
[15]
His wordes her feeble much pleased,
And softly sunck into her hart;
Hart that is inly hurt, is greatly eased
With hope of thing, that may allegge his smart;
For pleasing wordes are
like to Magick art,
That doth the charmed Snake in slomber lay:
Such secrete ease felt gentle Britomart,
Yet list the same efforce with faind gainesay;
[16]
And sayd, Sir knight, these ydle termes
forbeare,
And sith it is vneathuneath to finde his haunt,
Tell me some markes, by which
he may appeare,
If chaunce I him encounter ;
For perdy one shall other slay, or daunt:
What shape, what shield, what armes, what steed, what stedd,
And what so else his person most may vaunt?
All which the Redcrosse knight to point aredd,
And him in euerieeverie part before her .
[17]
Yet him in euerieeverie part before she knew,
How euerever list her now her knowledge ,
Sith him whylome in
BrytayneBritaine she did vew,
To her reuealedrevealed in a mirrhour playne,
Whereof did grow her first payne,
Whose root and stalke so bitter yet did taste,
That but the fruit more sweetnes did contayne,
Her wretched dayes in dolour she mote waste,
And yield the pray of louelove to lothsome death at last.
[18]
By straunge occasion she did him behold,
And much more straungely gan to louelove his sight,
In
that now South-wales is hight,
What time king Ryence raign’d, and dealed right,
The great Magitien Merlin had deuiz’ddeviz’d,
By his deepe science,
and hell-dreaded might,
A looking glasse, right wondrously aguiz’d,
Whose vertues through the wyde worlde soone
were
solemniz’d.
[19]
It vertue had, to shew in perfect sight,
What euerever thing was in the world contaynd,
Betwixt the lowest earth and heuenshevens hight,
it to the looker
appertaynd;
What euerever foe had wrought, or frend had faynd,
Therein discouereddiscovered was, ,
Ne ought in secret from the same remaynd;
it round and hollow shaped was,
Like to the world it selfe, and seemd a
world of glas.
[20]
Who wonders not, that reades so wonderouswondrous worke?
But who does wonder,
that has red the Towre,
Wherein th’Aegyptian Phao long did
lurke
From all mens vew, that none might her discourediscovre,
Yet she might all men vew out of her bowre?
Great Ptolomæe it for his lemans
sake
Ybuilded all of glasse, by Magicke powre,
And also it impregnable did make;
Yet when his louelove was false, he with a peaze it
brake.
[21]
was the glassy globe that Merlin made,
And gauegave
vntounto king Ryence for his ,
That neuernever foes his kingdome might inuadeinvade,
But he it knew at home before he hard
Tydings thereof, and so them still debar’d.
It was a famous Present for a Prince,
And worthy worke of infinite reward,
That treasons could bewray and foes conuinceconvince;
Happy this Realme, had it remayned euerever since.
[22]
One day it fortuned, fayre Britomart
Into
to ;
For nothing he from her reseru’dreserv’d apart,
Where when she had espyde that mirrhour fayre,
Her selfe awhile therein she vewd ;
Tho her auizingavizing of the vertues rare,
Which thereof spoken were, she gan againe
[23]
But as it falleth, in the gentlest harts
Imperious LoueLove hath highest set his throne,
And tyrannizeth in the bitter smarts
Of them, that to him buxome are and prone:
So thought this Mayd (as
maydens vseuse to done)
Whom fortune for her husband would allot,
Not that she lusted after any one;
For she was pure from blame of sinfull blot,
[24]
there was presented to her eye
A comely knight, all arm’d ,
Through whose bright ventayle lifted vpup on hye
His manly face, that did
his foes agrize,
And frends to termes of gentle truce entize,
Lookt foorth, as Phœbus face out of the
east,
Betwixt two shady mountaynes doth arize;
Portly his person was,
and much increast
Through his Heroicke grace, and honorable
gest.
[25]
His crest was coueredcovered with a Hownd,
And all his armour seemd of antique mould,
But wondrous massy and assured sownd,
And round about yfretted
all with gold,
In which there written was with cyphres old,
That deckt the azure field with her fayre pouldred skin.
[26]
The Damzell well did vew his Personage,
But went her way; ne her vnguiltyunguilty age
Did weene, vnwaresunwares, that her vnluckyunlucky lot
Lay hidden in the bottome of the pot;
But the false Archer, which that arrow shot
So slyly, that she did not feele the wound,
Did smyle full smoothly at her weetlesse wofull stound.
[27]
Thenceforth the fether in her lofty crest,
Ruffed of louelove, gan lowly to auaileavaile,
And her prowd portaunce,
and her princely gest,
With which she earst tryumphed, now did quaile:
Sad, solemne, sowre, and
full of fancies fraile
She woxe; yet wist she nether how, nor why,
She wist not, silly
Mayd, what she did aile,
Yet wist, she was not well at ease perdy,
Yet thought it was not louelove, but some melancholy.
[28]
So soone as Night had with her hew
Defaste the beautie of the shyning skye,
And reft from men the worldes desired vew,
She with her Nourse adowne to sleepe did lye;
But sleepe full far away from her did fly:
In stead thereof sad
sighes, and sorrowes deepe
Kept watch and ward about her warily,
That nought she did but
wayle, and often steepe
Her dainty couch with teares, which closely she did weepe.
[29]
And if that any drop of slombring rest
Did chaunce to still
into her weary spright,
When feeble nature felt her selfe opprest,
Streight way with dreames, and with fantastick sight
Of dreadfull things the same was put to flight,
That oft out of her bed
she did astart,
As one with vew of ghastly feends affright:
Tho gan she to renew her former smart,
And thinke of that , .
[30]
night, when she was tost with such vnrestunrest,
Her aged Nourse, whose name was hight,
Feeling her leape out of her loathed ,
Betwixt her feeble armes her quickly keight,
And downe againe her in her warme
bedin her warme bed her
dight,dight;
Ah my deare daughter, ah my dearest dread,
What vncouthuncouth fit (sayd she) what euillevill plight
Hath thee opprest, and with sad drearyhead
Chaunged thy liuelylively cheare, &and
liuingliving made thee dead?
[31]
For these suddein ghastly feares
All night afflict thy naturall repose,
And all the day, when as thine equall peares
Their fit disports with faire delight doe chose,
Thou in dull corners doest thy selfe inclose,
Ne tastest Princes pleasures, ne doest spred
Abroad thy fresh youths fayrest flowre, but lose
Both leafe and fruite, both too vntimelyuntimely shed,
As one in wilfull bale for euerever buried.
[32]
The time, that mortall men their weary cares
Do lay away, and all wilde beastes do rest,
And eueryevery
riuerriver eke his course forbeares,
Then doth this wicked euillevill thee ,
And riuerive with thousand throbs thy thrilled brest;
Like an huge Aetn’ of deepe engulfed
gryefe,
Sorrow is heaped in thy hollow chest,
Whence foorth it breakes in sighes and anguish ryfe,
As smoke and sulphure mingled with confuſedconfusedconfufed stryfe.
[33]
Ay me, how much I feare, least louelove it bee,
But if that louelove it be, as sure I read
By knowen signes and passions, which I see,
Be it worthy of thy race and royall sead,
Then I auowavow by this most sacred head
Of my deare , to ease thy griefe,
And win thy will: Therefore away doe dread;
For death nor daunger from thy dew reliefe
Shall me debarre;debarre,debarre. tell me therefore my liefest liefe.
[34]
So hauinghaving sayd, her twixt her armes twaine
And eueryevery trembling ioyntjoynt, and eueryevery vaine
Shee softly felt, and rubbed busily,
To doe the frosen cold away to fly;
And her faire deawy eies with kisses deare
Shee ofte did bathe, and ofte againe did dry;
And euerever her importund, not to feare
To let the secret of her hart to her
appeare.
[35]
The Damzell pauzd, and then thus fearfully;
Ah Nurse, what needeth thee to eke my paine?
Is not enough, that I alone doe dye,
But it must doubled bee with death of twaine?
For nought for me, but death there doth remaine.
O daughter deare (said she) despeire no whit,
For neuernever sore, but might a saluesalve obtaine:
That blinded God, which hath ye blindly smit,
Another arrow hath your louerslovers hart to hit.
[36]
mine is not (quoth she) like otherothers wownd;
For which no reason can
finde remedy.
Was neuernever such, but mote the like be fownd,
(Said she) and though no reason may apply
SalueSalve to your sore, yet louelove can higher stye,
1590.bk3.III.ii.36.6. Then: ThanThenThan reasons reach, and oft hath wonders donne.
But neither God of louelove, nor God of skye
Can doe (said she) that, which cannot be donne.
Things ofte impossible (quoth she) seeme ere
begonne.
[37]
These idle wordes (said she) doe nought
aswage
My stubborne smart, but more annoiaunce breed.
For no no vsuallusuall fire, no vsuallusuall rage
Yt is, O Nourse, which on my life doth feed,
And sucks the blood, which frõfrom my hart doth bleed.
But since thy faithfull zele lets me not hyde
My crime, (if crime it be) I will it reed.
Nor Prince, nor pere it is, whose louelove hath gryde
My feeble brest of late, and launched this wound wyde.
[38]
Nor man it is, nor other liuingliving wight;
For then some hope I might vntounto me draw,
But th’only shade and
semblant of a knight,
Whose shape or person yet I neuernever saw,
Hath me subiectedsubjected to louesloves cruell law:
The same one day, as me misfortune led,
I in my fathers wondrous mirrhour saw,
And pleased with that seeming goodly-hed,
VnwaresUnwares the hidden hooke with baite I swallowed.
[39]
it hath infixed faster hold
Within my bleeding , and so sore
Now ranckleth in this same fraile fleshly mould,
That all mine entrailes flow with poisnous gore,
And th’vlcerth’ulcer groweth daily more and more;
Ne can my ronning sore finde remedee,
Other 1590.bk3.III.ii.39.7. then: thanthenthan my hard fortune to deplore,
And languish as the leafe faln from the tree,
Till death make one end of my daies and
miseree.
[40]
Daughter (said she) what needye be
dismayd,
Of much more vncouthuncouth thing I was affrayd;
Of filthy lust, contrary vntounto
kinde:
But this affection nothing straunge I findefi nde;
For who with reason can you aye reprouereprove,
To louelove the semblaunt pleasing most your minde,
And yield your heart, whence ye cannot remoueremove?
[41]
so th’Arabian Myrrhe did sett her mynd,
NornorNot so did spend her pining hart,
But lou’dlov’d their natiuenative flesh against al kynd,
And to their purpose vsedused wicked art:
Yet playd a
more monstrous part,
That lou’dlov’d a Bul, and learnd a beast to bee;
Such shamefull lusts who loaths not, which depart
From course of nature and of modestee?
Swete louelove such lewdnes from his
faire cõpaneecompanee.
[42]
But thine my Deare (welfare thy heart my deare)
Though straunge beginning had, yet fixed is
On one, that worthy may perhaps appeare;
And certes seemes bestowed not amis:
IoyJoy thereof hauehave thou and eternall blis.
With that vpleaningupleaning on her elbow weake,
Her
alablaſteralablaster
alablaſtedalablasted brest she soft did kis,
Which all that while
shee felt to pant and quake,
As it an Earth-quake were, at last she thus
bespake.
[43]
Beldame, your words doe worke me litle ease;
For though my louelove be not so lewdly bent,
As those ye blame, yet may it nought appease
My raging smart, ne ought my flame relent,
But rather doth my helpelesse griefe augment.
For they, how euerever shamefull and vnkindeunkinde,
Short end of sorowes they therby did finde;
So was their fortune good, though wicked
were their minde.
[44]
wicked fortune mine,
though minde be good,
Can hauehave no end, nor hope of my desire,
But feed on shadowes, whiles I die for food,
And like a shadow wexe, whiles with entire
Affection, I doe languish and expire.
I fonder, 1590.bk3.III.ii.44.6. then: thanthenthan
,
Who hauinghaving vewed in a fountaine shere
I fonder louelove a shade, the body far exyld.
[45]
Nought like (quoth shee) for that same
wretched boy
Was of him selfe the ydle Paramoure;
Both louelove and louerlover, without hope of ioyjoy,
For which he faded to .
But better fortune thine, and better howre,
Which lou’stlov’st the shadow of a warlike knight;
That body, wheresoeuerwheresoever that it light,
May learned be by , or by Magicke
might.
[46]
But if thou may with reason yet represse
The growing euillevill, ere it strength hauehave gott,
And thee abandond wholy doe possesse,
Against it strongly striuestrive, and yield thee nott,
Til thou in open fielde adowne be smott.
But if the passion mayster thy fraile might,
So that needs louelove or death must bee thy lott,
Then I auowavow to thee, by wrong or right
To compas thy desire, and find that louedloved knight.
[47]
Her chearefull words much cheard the feeble
spright
Of the sicke virgin, that her downe she layd
In her warme bed to sleepe, if that she might;
And the old-woman carefully displayd
The clothes about her round with busy ayd,
So that at last a litle creeping sleepe
Surprisd her sence: Shee therewith well apayd,
And sett her by to watch, and sett her by to
weepe.
[48]
Earely the morrow next, before that day
His ioyousjoyous face did to the world reuelerevele,
They both
vproſe,vprose,uproſe,uprose,
vproſevproseuproſeuprose
and tooke their ready way
VntoUnto the Church, ,
With great deuotiondevotion, and with litle zelezel e:
For the faire Damzel from
Her louelove-sicke hart to other thoughts did steale;
And that old Dame said many an idle verse,
Out of her daughters hart fond fancies to reuersereverse.
[49]
Retourned home, the fell
Into her former fitt; for
why no powre,
Nor guidaunce of her selfe in her did dwell.
But th’aged Nourse her calling to her bowre,
Had gathered Rew, and SauineSavine, and the flowre
Of CamphoraCamphara, and Calamint, and Dill,
All which she in ana earthen Pot did poure,
And to the brim with Colt wood did it fill,
And many drops of milk and blood through it
did spill.
[50]
taking thrise three heares from offof her head,
ThemThen trebly breaded in a threefold
lace,
And round about the Pots mouth, boũdbound the thread,
And after hauinghaving whispered a space
Certein sad words, with
hollow voice and bace,
Shee to the virgin sayd, thrise sayd she itt;
Come daughter come, come; spit vponupon my face,
Spitt thrise vponupon me, thrise vponupon me spitt;
Th’vneuenuneven nomber for this busines is most fitt.
[51]
sayd, her rownd about she from her turnd,
She turned her contrary to the Sunne,
Thrise she her turnd contrary, and returnd,
All contrary; for she the right did shunne,
And euerever what she did, was streight vndonneundonne.
So thought she to vndoeundoe her daughters louelove:
But louelove, that is in gentle brest begonne,
No ydle charmes so lightly may remoueremove,
That well can witnesse, who by tryall it
does .
[52]
Ne ought it mote the noble Mayd auayleavayle,
Ne slake the fury of her cruell flame,
But that shee still did waste, and still did wayle,
That through long languour, &and hart-burning brame
She shortly like a pyned
ghost became,
That when old Glauce saw, for feare least blame
Of her miscarriage
should in her be fond,
She wist not how t’amend, nor how it to
withstond.