Cant. VI.

Both Scudamour and Arthegall Doe fight with Britomart, He sees her face; doth fall in loue love , and soone from her depart.

[1] VVHat VVhat WHat What equall torment to the griefe of mind, And pyning anguish hid in gentle hart, That inly feeds it selfe with thoughts vnkind unkind , And nourisheth her owne consuming smart? What medicine can any Leaches art Yeeld such a sore, that doth her grieuance grievance hide, And will to none her maladie impart? Such was the wound that Scudamour did gride; For which Dan Phebus selfe cannot a salue salve prouide provide . [2] Who hauing having left that restlesse house of Care, The next day, as he on his way did ride, Full of melancholie and sad misfare, Through misconceipt; all vnawares unawares espide An armed Knight vnder under a forrest side, Sitting in shade beside his grazing steede; Who soone as them approaching he descride, Gan towards them to pricke with eger speede, That seem’d he was full bent to some mischieuous mischievous deede. [3] Which Scudamour perceiuing perceiving , forth issewed To haue have rencountred him in equall race; But soone as th’other nigh approaching, vewed The armes he bore, his speare he gan abase, Cant. VI. FAERIE QVEENE QUEENE . 81 F And voide his course: at which so suddain case He wondred much. But th’other thus can say; Ah gentle Scudamour, vnto unto your grace I me submit, and you of pardon pray, That almost had against you trespassed this day. [4] Whereto thus Scudamour, Small harme it were For any knight, vpon upon a ventrous knight Without displeasance for to proue prove his spere. But reade you Sir, sith ye my name haue have hight, What is your owne, that I mote you requite. Certes (sayd he) ye mote as now excuse Me from discouering discovering you my name aright: For time yet serues serves that I the same refuse, But call ye me the Saluage Salvage Knight, as others vse use . [5] Then this, Sir Saluage Salvage Knight (quoth he) areede; Or doe you here within this forrest wonne, That seemeth well to answere to your weede? Or haue have ye it for some occasion donne? That rather seemes, sith knowen armes ye shonne. This other day (sayd he) a stranger knight Shame and dishonour hath vnto unto me donne; On whom I waite to wreake that foule despight, When euer ever he this way shall passe by day or night. [6] Shame be his meede (quoth he) that meaneth shame. But what is he, by whom ye shamed were? A stranger knight, sayd he, vnknowne unknowne by name, But knowne by fame, and by an Hebene speare, With which he all that met him, downe did beare. He in an open Turney lately held, Fro me the honour of that game did reare; And hauing having me all wearie earst, downe feld, The fayrest Ladie reft, and euer ever since withheld. 82 THE IIII. BOOKE OF THE Cant. VI. To [7] When Scudamour heard mention of that speare, He wist right well, that it was Britomart, The which from him his fairest loue love did beare. Tho gan he swell in euery every inner part, For fell despight, and gnaw his gealous hart, That thus he sharply sayd; Now by my head, Yet is not this the first vnknightly unknightly part, Which that same knight, whom by his launce I read, Hath doen to noble knights, that many makes him dread. [8] For lately he my loue love hath fro me reft, And eke defiled with foule villanie The sacred pledge, which in his faith was left, In shame of knighthood and fidelitie; The which ere long full deare dcare he shall abie. And if to that auenge avenge by you decreed This hand may helpe, or succour ought supplie, It shall not fayle, when so ye shall it need. So both to wreake their wrathes on Britomart agreed. [9] Whiles thus they communed, lo farre away A Knight soft ryding towards them they spyde, Attyr’d in forraine armes and straunge aray: Whõ Whom when they nigh approcht, they plaine descryde To be the same, for whom they did abyde. Sayd then Sir Scudamour, Sir Saluage Salvage knight Let me this craue crave , sith first I was defyde, That first I may that wrong to him requite: And if I hap to fayle, you shall recure my right. [10] Which being yeelded, he his threatfull speare Gan fewter, and against her fiercely ran. Who soone as she him saw approaching neare With so fell rage, her selfe she lightly gan Cant. VI. FAERIE QVEENE QUEENE . 83 F2 To dight, to welcome him, well as she can: But entertaind him in so rude a wise, That to the ground she smote both horse and man; Whence neither greatly hasted to arise, But on their common harmes together did deuise devise . [11] But Artegall beholding his mischaunce, New matter added to his former fire; And eft auentring aventring his steeleheaded launce, Against her rode, full of despiteous ire, That nought but spoyle and vengeance did require. But to himselfe his felonous intent Returning, disappointed his desire, Whiles vnawares unawares his saddle he forwent, And found himselfe on ground in great amazement. [12] Lightly he started vp up out of that stound, And snatching forth his direfull deadly blade, Did leape to her, as doth an eger hound Thrust to an Hynd within some couert covert glade, Whom without perill he cannot inuade invade . With such fell greedines he her assayled, That though she mounted were, yet he her made To giue give him ground, (so much his force preuayled prevayled ) And shun his mightie strokes, gainst which no armes (auayled. (avayled. [13] So as they coursed here and there, it chaunst That in her wheeling round, behind her crest So sorely he her strooke, that thence it glaunst Adowne her backe, the which it fairely blest From foule mischance; ne did it euer ever rest, Till on her horses hinder parts it fell; Where byting deepe, so deadly it imprest, That quite it chynd his backe behind the sell, And to alight on foote her algates did compell. 84 THE IIII. BOOKE OF THE Cant. VI. The [14] Like as the lightning brond from riuen riven skie, Throwne out by angry Ioue Jove in his vengeance, With dreadfull force falles on some steeple hie; Which battring, downe it on the church doth glance, And teares it all with terrible mischance. Yet she no whit dismayd, her steed forsooke, And casting from her that enchaunted lance, Vnto Unto her sword and shield her soone betooke; And therewithall at him right furiously she strooke. [15] So furiously she strooke in her first heat, Whiles with long fight on foot he breathlesse was, That she him forced backward to retreat, And yeeld vnto unto her weapon way to pas: Whose raging rigour neither steele nor bras Could stay, but to the tender flesh it went, And pour’d the purple bloud forth on the gras; That all his mayle yriv’d, and plates yrent, Shew’d all his bodie bare vnto unto the cruell dent. [16] At length when as he saw her hastie heat Abate, and panting breath begin to fayle, He through long sufferãce sufferance growing now more great, Rose in his strength, and gan her fresh assayle, Heaping huge strokes, as thicke as showre of hayle, And lashing dreadfully at euery every part, As if he thought her soule to disentrayle. Ah cruell hand, and thrise more cruell hart, That workst such wrecke on her, to whom thou dearest (art. [17] What yron courage euer ever could endure, To worke such outrage on so faire a creature? And in his madnesse thinke with hands impure To spoyle so goodly workmanship of nature, Cant. VI. FAERIE QVEENE QUEENE . 85 F3 The maker selfe resembling in her feature? Certes some hellish furie, or some feend This mischiefe framd, for their first loues loves defeature, To bath their hands in bloud of dearest freend, Thereby to make their loues loves beginning, their liues lives end. [18] Thus long they trac’d, and trauerst traverst to and fro, Sometimes pursewing, and sometimes pursewed, Still as aduantage advantage they espyde thereto: But toward th’end Sir Arthegall renewed His strength still more, but she still more decrewed. At last his lucklesse hand he heau’d heav’d on hie, Hauing Having his forces all in one accrewed, And therewith stroke at her so hideouslie, That seemed nought but death mote be her destinie. [19] The wicked stroke vpon upon her helmet chaunst, And with the force, which in it selfe it bore, Her ventayle shard away, and thence forth glaunst A downe Adowne in vaine, ne harm’d her any more. With that her angels face, vnseene unseene afore, Like to the ruddie morne appeard in sight, Deawed with siluer silver drops, through sweating sore, But somewhat redder, 1596.bk4.IV.vi.19.8. then: than then than beseem’d aright, Through toylesome heate and labour of her weary fight. [20] And round about the same, her yellow heare Hauing Having through stirring loosd their wonted band, Like to a golden border did appeare, Framed in goldsmithes forge with cunning hand: Yet goldsmithes cunning could not vnderstand understand To frame such subtile wire, so shinie cleare. For it did glister like the golden sand, The which Pactolus with his waters shere, Throwes forth vpon upon the riuage rivage round about him nere. 86 THE IIII. BOOKE OF THE Cant. VI. That [21] And as his hand he vp up againe did reare, Thinking to worke on her his vtmost utmost wracke, His powrelesse arme benumbd with secret feare From his reuengefull revengefull purpose shronke abacke, And cruell sword out of his fingers slacke Fell downe to ground, as if the steele had sence, And felt some ruth, or sence his hand did lacke, Or both of them did thinke, obedience To doe to so diuine divine a beauties excellence. [22] And he himselfe long gazing thereupon, At last fell humbly downe vpon upon his knee, And of his wonder made religion, Weening some heauenly heavenly goddesse he did see, Or else vnweeting unweeting , what it else might bee; And pardon her besought his errour frayle, That had done outrage in so high degree: Whilest trembling horrour did his sense assayle, And made ech member quake, and manly hart to quayle. [23] Nathelesse she full of wrath for that late stroke, All that long while vpheld upheld her wrathfull hand, With fell intent, on him to bene ywroke, And looking sterne, still ouer over him did stand, Threatning to strike, vnlesse unlesse he would withstand: And bad him rise, or surely he should die. But die or liue live for nought he would vpstand upstand But her of pardon prayd more earnestlie, Or wreake on him her will for so great iniurie injurie . [24] Which when as Scudamour, who now abrayd, Beheld, whereas he stood not farre aside, He was therewith right wondrously dismayd, And drawing nigh, when as he plaine descride Cant. VI. FAERIE QVEENE QUEENE . 87 F4 That peerelesse paterne of Dame natures pride, And heauenly heavenly image of perfection, He blest himselfe, as one sore terrifide, And turning his feare to faint deuotion devotion , Did worship her as some celestiall vision. [25] But Glauce, seeing all that chaunced there, Well weeting how their errour to assoyle, Full glad of so good end, to them drew nere, And her salewd with seemely belaccoyle, Ioyous Joyous to see her safe after long toyle. Then her besought, as she to her was deare, To graunt vnto unto those warriours truce a whyle; Which yeelded, they their beuers bevers vp up did reare, And shew’d themselues themselves to her, such as indeed they were. [26] When Britomart with sharpe auizefull avizefull eye Beheld the louely lovely face of Artegall, Tempred with sternesse and stout maiestie majestie , She gan eftsoones it to her mind to call, To be the same which in her fathers hall Long since in that enchaunted glasse she saw. Therewith her wrathfull courage gan appall, And haughtie spirits meekely to adaw, That her enhaunced hand she downe can soft withdraw. [27] Yet she it forst to haue have againe vpheld upheld , As fayning choler, which was turn’d to cold: But euer ever when his visage she beheld, Her hand fell downe, and would no longer hold The wrathfull weapon gainst his countnance bold: But when in vaine to fight she oft assayd, She arm’d her tongue, and thought at him to scold; Nathlesse her tongue not to her will obayd, But brought forth speeches myld, when she would haue have (missayd. 88 THE IIII. BOOKE OF THE Cant. VI. And [28] But Scudamour now woxen inly glad, That all his gealous feare he false had found, And how that Hag his loue love abused had With breach of faith and loyaltie vnsound unsound , The which long time his grieued grieved hart did wound, He thus bespake; Certes Sir Artegall, I ioy joy to see you lout so low on ground, And now become to liue live a Ladies thrall, That whylome in your minde wont to despise them all. [29] Soone as she heard the name of Artegall, Her hart did leape, and all her hart-strings tremble, For sudden ioy joy , and secret feare withall, And all her vitall powres with motion nimble, To succour it, themselues themselves gan there assemble, That by the swift recourse of flushing blood Right plaine appeard, though she it would dissemble, And fayned still her former angry mood, Thinking to hide the depth by troubling of the flood. [30] When Glauce thus gan wisely all vpknit upknit ; Ye gentle Knights, whom fortune here hath brought, To be spectators of this vncouth uncouth fit, Which secret fate hath in this Ladie wrought, Against the course of kind, ne meruaile mervaile nought, Ne thenceforth feare the thing that hethertoo Hath troubled both your mindes with idle thought, Fearing least she your loues loves away should woo, Feared in vaine, sith meanes ye see there wants theretoo. [31] And you Sir Artegall, the saluage salvage knight, Henceforth may not disdaine, that womans hand Hath conquered you anew in second fight: For whylome they haue have conquerd sea and land, Cant. VI. FAERIE QVEENE QUEENE . 89 And heauen heaven it selfe, that nought may them withstand, Ne henceforth be rebellious vnto unto loue love , That is the crowne of knighthood, and the band Of noble minds deriued derived from aboue above , Which being knit with vertue, neuer never will remoue remove . [32] And you faire Ladie knight, my dearest Dame, Relent the rigour of your wrathfull will, Whose fire were better turn’d to other flame; And wiping out remembrance of all ill, Graunt him your grace, but so that he fulfill The penance, which ye shall to him empart: For louers lovers heauen heaven must passe by sorrowes hell. Thereat full inly blushed Britomart; But Artegall close smyling ioy’d joy’d in secret hart. [33] Yet durst he not make loue love so suddenly, Ne thinke th’affection of her hart to draw From one to other so quite contrary: Besides her modest countenance he saw So goodly graue grave , and full of princely aw, That it his ranging fancie did refraine, And looser thoughts to lawfull bounds withdraw; Whereby the passion grew more fierce and faine, Like to a stubborne steede whom strong hand would re-straine. [34] But Scudamour whose hart twixt doubtfull feare And feeble hope hung all this while suspence, Desiring of his Amoret to heare Some gladfull newes and sure intelligence, Her thus bespake; But Sir without offence Mote I request you tydings of my loue love , My Amoret, sith you her freed fro thence, Where she captiued captived long, great woes did proue prove ; That where ye left, I may her seeke, as doth behoue behove . 90 THE IIII. BOOKE OF THE Cant. VI. Till [35] To whom thus Britomart, certes Sir knight, What is of her become, or whether reft, I can not vnto unto you aread a right aright . For from that time I from enchaunters theft Her freed, in which ye her all hopelesse left, I her preseru’d preserv’d from perill and from feare, And euermore evermore from villenie her kept: Ne euer ever was there wight to me more deare Then she, ne vnto unto whom I more true loue love did beare. [36] Till on a day as through a desert wyld We trauelled travelled , both wearie of the way We did alight, and sate in shadow myld; Where fearelesse I to sleepe me downe did lay. But when as I did out of sleepe abray, I found her not, where I her left whyleare, But thought she wandred was, or gone astray. I cal’d her loud, I sought her farre and neare; But no where could her find, nor tydings of her heare. [37] When Scudamour those heauie heavie tydings heard, His hart was thrild with point of deadly feare; Ne in his face or bloud or life appeard, But senselesse stood, like to a mazed steare, That yet of mortall stroke the stound doth beare. Till Glauce thus; Faire Sir, be nought dismayd With needelesse dread, till certaintie ye heare: For yet she may be safe though somewhat strayd; Its best to hope the best, though of the worst affrayd. [38] Nathlesse he hardly of her chearefull speech Did comfort take, or in his troubled sight Shew’d change of better cheare: so sore a breach That sudden newes had made into his spright; Cant. VI. FAERIE QVEENE QUEENE . 91 Till Britomart him fairely thus behight; Great cause of sorrow certes Sir ye haue have : But comfort take: for by this heauens heavens light I vow, you dead or liuing living not to leaue leave , Till I her find, and wreake on him that her did reaue reave . [39] Therewith he rested, and well pleased was. So peace being confirm’d amongst them all, They tooke their steeds, and forward thence did pas Vnto Unto some resting place, which mote befall, All being guided by Sir Artegall. Where goodly solace was vnto unto them made, And dayly feasting both in bowre and hall, Vntill Untill that they their wounds well healed had, And wearie limmes recur’d after late vsage usage bad. [40] In all which time, Sir Artegall made way Vnto Unto the loue love of noble Britomart, And with meeke seruice service and much suit did lay Continuall siege vnto unto her gentle hart, Which being whylome launcht with louely lovely dart, More eath was new impression to receiue receive , How euer ever she her paynd with womanish art To hide her wound, that none might it perceiue perceive : Vaine is the art that seekes it selfe for to deceiue deceive . [41] So well he woo’d her, and so well he wrought her, With faire entreatie and sweet blandishment, That at the length vnto unto a bay he brought her, So as she to his speeches was content To lend an eare, and softly to relent. At last through many vowes which forth he pour’d, And many othes, she yeelded her consent To be his loue love , and take him for her Lord, Till they with mariage meet might finish that accord. 92 THE IIII. BOOKE OF THE Cant. VI. But [42] Tho when they had long time there taken rest, Sir Artegall, who all this while was bound Vpon Upon an hard aduenture adventure yet in quest, Fit time for him thence to depart it found, To follow that, which he did long propound; And vnto unto her his congee came to take. But her therewith full sore displeasd he found, And loth to leaue leave her late betrothed make, Her dearest loue love full loth so shortly to forsake. [43] Yet he with strong perswasions her asswaged, And wonne her will to suffer him depart; For which his faith with her he fast engaged, And thousand vowes from bottome of his hart, That all so soone as he by wit or art Could that atchieue atchieve , whereto he did aspire, He vnto unto her would speedily reuert revert : No longer space thereto he did desire, But till the horned moone three courses did expire. [44] With which she for the present was appeased, And yeelded leaue leave , how euer ever malcontent She inly were, and in her mind displeased. So early in the morrow next he went Forth on his way, to which he was ybent. Ne wight him to attend, or way to guide, As whylome was the custome ancient Mongst Knights, when on aduentures adventures they did ride, Saue Save that she algates him a while accompanide. [45] And by the way she sundry purpose found Of this or that, the time for to delay, And of the perils whereto he was bound, The feare whereof seem’d much her to affray: Cant. VI. FAERIE QVEENE QUEENE . 93 But all she did was but to weare out day. Full oftentimes she leaue leave of him did take; And eft againe deuiz’d deviz’d some what to say, Which she forgot, whereby excuse to make: So loth she was his companie for to forsake. [46] At last when all her speeches she had spent, And new occasion fayld her more to find, She left him to his fortunes gouernment government , And backe returned with right heauie heavie mind. To Scudamour, who she had left behind, With whom she went to seeke faire Amoret, Her second care, though in another kind; For vertues onely sake, which doth beget True loue love and faithfull friendship, she by her did set. [47] Backe to that desert forrest they retyred, Where sorie Britomart had lost her late; There they her sought, and euery every where inquired, Where they might tydings get of her estate; Yet found they none. But by what haplesse fate, Or hard misfortune she was thence conuayd convayd , And stolne away from her beloued beloved mate, Were long to tell; therefore I here will stay Vntill Untill another tyde, that I it finish may.