370 THE VI. BOOK OF THE Cant. II. He Cant. II.

Calidore sees young Tristram slay A proud discourteous knight: He makes him Squire, and of him learnes his state and present plight.

[1] VVHat VVhat WHat What vertue is so fitting for a knight, Or for a Ladie, whom a knight should loue love , As Curtesie, to beare themselues themselves aright To all of each degree, as doth behoue behove ? For whether they be placed high aboue above , Or low beneath, yet ought they well to know Their good, that none them rightly may reproue reprove Of rudenesse, for not yeelding what they owe: Great skill it is such duties timely to bestow. [2] Thereto great helpe dame Nature selfe doth lend: For some so goodly gratious are by kind, That euery every action doth them much commend, And in the eyes of men great liking find; Which others, that haue have greater skill in mind, Though they enforce themselues themselves , cannot attaine. For euerie everie thing, to which one is inclin’d, Doth best become, and greatest grace doth gaine: Yet praise likewise deserue deserve good thewes, enforst with paine. [3] That well in courteous Calidore appeares, Whose euery every act and word, that he did say, Was like enchantment, that through both the eyes, And both the eares did steale the hart away. Cant. II. FAERIE QVEENE QUEENE . 371 Aa3 He now againe is on his former way, To follow his first quest, when as he spyde A tall young man from thence not farre away, Fighting on foot, as well he him descryde, Against an armed knight, that did on horsebacke ryde. [4] And them beside a Ladie faire he saw, Standing alone on foot, in foule array: To whom himselfe he hastily did draw, To weet the cause of so vncomely uncomely fray, And to depart them, if so be he may. But ere he came in place, that youth had kild That armed knight, that low on ground he lay; Which when he saw, his hart was inly child With great amazement, & and his thought with wonder fild. [5] Him stedfastly he markt, and saw to bee A goodly youth of amiable grace, Yet but a slender slip, that scarse did see Yet seuenteene seventeene yeares, but tall and faire of face That sure he deem’d him borne of noble race All in a woodmans iacket jacket he was clad Of lincolne greene, belayd with siluer silver lace; And on his head an hood with aglets sprad, And by his side his hunters horne he hanging had. [6] Buskins he wore of costliest cordwayne, Pinckt vpon upon gold, and paled part per part, As then the guize was for each gentle swayne; In his right hand he held a trembling dart, Whose fellow he before had sent apart; And in his left he held a sharpe borespeare, With which he wont to launch the saluage salvage hart Of many a Lyon, and of many a Beare That first vnto unto his hand in chase did happen neare. 372 THE VI. BOOKE OF THE Cant. II Yet [7] Whom Calidore a while well hauing having vewed, At length bespake; what meanes this, gentle swaine? Why hath thy hand too bold it selfe embrewed In blood of knight, the which by thee is slaine, By thee no knight; which armes impugneth plaine? Certes (said he) loth were I to haue have broken The law of armes; yet breake it should againe, Rather then let my selfe of wight be stroken, So long as these two armes were able to be wroken. [8] For not I him, as this his Ladie here May witnesse well, did offer first to wrong, Ne surely thus vnarm’d unarm’d I likely were; But he me first, through pride and puissance strong Assayld, not knowing what to armes doth long. Perdie great blame, (then said Sir Calidore) For armed knight a wight vnarm’d unarm’d to wrong. But then aread, thou gentle chyld, wherefore Betwixt you two began this strife and sterne vprore’d uprore’d . [9] That shall I sooth (said he) to you declare. I whose vnryper unryper yeares are yet vnfit unfit For thing of weight, or worke of greater care, Doe spend my dayes, and bend my carelesse wit To saluage salvage chace, where I thereon may hit In all this forrest, and wyld wooddie raine: Where, as this day I was enraunging it, I chaunst to meete this knight, who there lyes slaine, Together with this Ladie, passing on the plaine. [10] The knight, as ye did see, on horsebacke was, And this his Ladie, (that him ill became,) became), On her faire feet by his horse side did pas Through thicke and thin, vnfit unfit for any Dame. Cant. II. FAERIE QVEENE QUEENE . 373 Aa4 Yet not content, more to increase his shame, When so she lagged, as she needs mote so, He with his speare, that was to him great blame, Would thumpe her forward, and inforce to goe, Weeping to him in vaine, and making piteous woe. [11] Which when I saw, as they me passed by, Much was I moued moved in indignant mind, And gan to blame him for such cruelty Towards a Ladie, whom with vsage usage kind He rather should haue have taken vp up behind. Wherewith he wroth, and full of proud disdaine, Tooke in foule scorne, that I such fault did find, And me in lieu thereof reuil’d revil’d againe, Threatning to chastize me, as doth t’a chyld pertaine. [12] Which I no lesse disdayning, backe returned His scornefull taunts vnto unto his teeth againe, That he streight way with haughtie choler burned, And with his speare strooke me one stroke or twaine; Which I enforst to beare though to my paine, Cast to requite, and with a slender dart, Fellow of this I beare, throwne not in vaine, Strooke him, as seemeth, vnderneath underneath the hart, That through the wound his spirit shortly did depart. [13] Much did Sir Calidore admyre his speach Tempred so well, but more admyr’d the stroke That through the mayles had made so strong a breach Into his hart, and had so sternely wroke His wrath on him, that first occasion broke. Yet rested not, but further gan inquire Of that same Ladie, whether what he spoke, Were soothly so, and that th’vnrighteous th’unrighteous ire Of her owne knight, had giuen given him his owne due hire. 374 THE VI. BOOKE OF THE Cant. II. To [14] Of all which, when as she could nought deny, But cleard that stripling of th’imputed blame, Sayd then Sir Calidore; neither will I Him charge with guilt, but rather doe quite clame: For what he spake, for you he spake it, Dame; And what he did, he did him selfe to saue save Against both which that knight wrought knightlesse (shame. For knights and all men this by nature haue have , Towards all womenkind them kindly to behaue behave . [15] But sith that he is gone irreuocable irrevocable , Please it you Ladie, to vs us to aread, What cause could make him so dishonourable, To driue drive you so on foot vnfit unfit to tread, And lackey by him, gainst all womanhead? Certes Sir knight (sayd she) full loth I were To rayse a lyuing lyving blame against the dead: But since it me concernes, my selfe to clere, I will the truth discouer discover , as it chaunst whylere. [16] This day, as he and I together roade Vpon Upon our way, to which we weren bent, We chaunst to come foreby a couert glade Within a wood, whereas a Ladie gent Sate with a knight in ioyous joyous iolliment jolliment Of their franke loues loves , free from all gealous spyes: Faire was the Ladie sure, that mote content An hart, not carried with too curious eyes, And vnto unto him did shew all louely lovely courtesyes. [17] Whom when my knight did see so louely lovely faire, He inly gan her louer lover to enuy envy , And wish, that he part of his spoyle might share. Whereto when as my presence he did spy Cant. II. FAERIE QVEENE QUEENE . 375 To be a let, he bad me by and by For to alight: but when as I was loth, My loues loves owne part to leaue leave so suddenly, He with strong hand down frõ from his steed me throw’th, And with presumpteous powre against that knight streight go’th. [18] Vnarm’d Unarm’d all was the knight, as then more meete For Ladies seruice service , and for loues loves delight, Then fearing any foeman there to meete: Whereof he taking oddes, streight bids him dight Himselfe to yeeld his loue love , or else to fight. Whereat the other starting vp up dismayd, Yet boldly answer’d, as he rightly might; To leaue leave his loue love he should be ill apayd, In which he had good right gaynst all, that it gainesayd. [19] Yet since he was not presently in plight Her to defend, or his to iustifie justifie iustifie, He him requested, as he was a knight, To lend him day his better right to trie, Or stay till he his armes, which were thereby, Might lightly fetch. But he was fierce and whot, Ne time would giue give , nor any termes aby, But at him flew, and with his speare him smot; From which to thinke to saue save himselfe, it booted not. [20] Meane while his Ladie, which this outrage saw, Whilest they together for the quarrey stroue strove , Into the couert did her selfe withdraw, And closely hid her selfe within the groue grove . My knight hers soone, as seemes, to daunger droue drove And left sore wounded: but when her he mist, He woxe halfe mad, and in that rage gan roue rove And range through all the wood, where so he wist She hidden was, and sought her so long, as him list. 376 THE VI. BOOKE OF THE Cant. II. He [21] But when as her he by no meanes could find, After long search and chauff, he turned backe Vnto Unto the place, where me he left behind: There gan he me to curse and ban, for lacke Of that faire bootie, and with bitter wracke To wreake on me the guilt of his owne wrong. Of all which I yet glad to beare the packe, Stroue Strove to appease him, and perswaded long: But still his passion grew more violent and strong. [22] Then as it were t’auenge t’avenge his wrath on mee, When forward we should fare, he flat refused To take me vp up (as this young man did see) Vpon Upon his steed, for no iust just cause accused, But forst to trot on foot, and foule misused, Pounching me with the butt end of his speare, In vaine complayning, to be so abused. For he regarded neither playnt nor teare, But more enforst my paine, the more my plaints to heare. [23] So passed we, till this young man vs us met, And being moou’d moov’d with pittie of my plight, Spake, as was meet, for ease of my regret: Whereof befell, what now is in your sight. Now sure (then said Sir Calidore) and right Me seemes, that him befell by his owne fault: Who euer ever thinkes through confidence of might, Or through support of count’nance proud and hault To wrong the weaker, oft falles in his owne assault. [24] Then turning backe vnto unto that gentle boy, Which had himselfe so stoutly well acquit; Seeing his face so louely lovely sterne and coy, And hearing th’answeres of his pregnant wit, Cant. II. FAERIE QVEENE QUEENE . 377 He praysd it much, and much admyred it; That sure he weend him borne of noble blood, With whom those graces did so goodly fit: And when he long had him beholding stood, He burst into these words, as to him seemed good. [25] Faire gentle swayne, and yet as stout as fayre, That in these woods amongst the Nymphs dost wonne, Which daily may to thy sweete lookes repayre, As they are wont vnto unto Latonaes sonne, After his chace on woodie Cynthus donne: Well may I certes such an one thee read, As by thy worth thou worthily hast wonne, Or surely borne of some Heroicke sead, That in thy face appeares and gratious goodly head. [26] But should it not displease thee it to tell; ( Vnlesse Unlesse thou in these woods thy selfe conceale, For loue love amongst the woodie Gods to dwell;) dwell); I would thy selfe require thee to reueale reveale For deare affection and vnfayned unfayned zeale, Which to thy noble personage I beare, And wish thee grow in worship and great weale. For since the day that armes I first did reare, I neuer never saw in any greater hope appeare. [27] To whom then thus the noble youth; may be Sir knight, that by discouering discovering my estate, Harme may arise vnweeting unweeting vnto unto me; Nathelesse, sith ye so courteous seemed late, To you I will not feare it to relate. Then wote ye that I am a Briton borne, Sonne of a King, how euer ever thorough fate Or fortune I my countrie haue have forlorne, And lost the crowne, which should my head by right (adorne. 378 THE VI. BOOKE OF THE Cant. II. In [28] And Tristram is my name, the onely heire Of good king Meliogras which did rayne In Cornewale, till that he through liues lives despeire Vntimely Untimely dyde, before I did attaine Ripe yeares of reason, my right to maintaine. After whose death, his brother seeing mee An infant, weake a kingdome to sustaine, Vpon Upon him tooke the roiall high degree, And sent me, where him list, instructed for to bee. [29] The widow Queene my mother, which then hight Faire Emiline, conceiuing conceiving then great feare Of my fraile safetie, resting in the might Of him, that did the kingly Scepter beare, Whose gealous dread induring not a peare, Is wont to cut off all, that doubt may breed, Thought best away me to remoue remove somewhere Into some forrein land, where as no need Of dreaded daunger might his doubtfull humour feed. [30] So taking counsell of a wise man red, She was by him aduiz’d adviz’d , to send me quight Out of the countrie wherein I was bred, The which the fertile Lionesse is hight, Into the land of Faerie, where no wight Should weet of me, nor worke me any wrong. To whose wise read she hearkning, sent me streight Into this land, where I haue have wond thus long, Since I was ten yeares old, now growen to stature strong. [31] All which my daies I haue have not lewdly spent, Nor spilt the blossome of my tender yeares In ydlesse, but as was conuenient convenient , Haue Have trayned bene with many noble feres Cant. II. FAERIE QVEENE QUEENE . 379 In gentle thewes, and such like seemely leres. Mongst which my most delight hath alwaies been, To hunt the saluage salvage chace amongst my peres, Of all that raungeth in the forrest greene; Of which none is to me vnknowne unknowne , that eu’r ev’r was seene. [32] Ne is there hauke, which mantleth her on pearch, Whether high towring, or accoasting low, But I the measure of her flight doe search, And all her pray, and all her diet know. Such be our ioyes joyes , which in these forrests grow: Onely the vse use of armes, which most I ioy joy , And fitteth most for noble swayne to know, I haue have not tasted yet, yet past a boy, And being now high time these strong ioynts joynts to imploy. [33] Therefore, good Sir, sith now occasion fit Doth fall, whose like hereafter seldome may, Let me this craue crave , vnworthy unworthy though of it, That ye will make me Squire without delay, That from henceforth in batteilous array I may beare armes, and learne to vse use them right; The rather since that fortune hath this day Giuen Given to me the spoile of this dead knight, These goodly gilden armes, which I haue have won in fight. [34] All which when well Sir Calidore had heard, Him much more now, then earst he gan admire, For the rare hope which in his yeares appear’d, And thus replide; faire chyld, the high desire To loue love of armes, which in you doth aspire, But rather wish, that some more noble hire, Though none more noble then is cheualrie), chevalrie), cheualrie,) chevalrie,) I had, you to reward with greater dignitie. 380 THE VI. BOOKE OF THE Cant. II. That [35] There him he causd to kneele, and made to sweare Faith to his knight, and truth to Ladies all, And neuer never to be recreant, for feare Of perill, or of ought that might befall: So he him dubbed, and his Squire did call. Full glad and ioyous joyous then young Tristram grew, Like as a flowre, whose silken leaues leaves small, Long shut vp up in the bud from heauens heavens vew, At length breakes forth, and brode displayes his smyling hew. [36] Thus when they long had treated to and fro, And Calidore betooke him to depart, Chyld Tristram prayd, that he with him might goe On his aduenture adventure , vowing not to start, But wayt on him in euery every place and part. Whereat Sir Calidore did much delight, And greatly ioy’d joy’d at his so noble hart, In hope he sure would proue prove a doughtie knight: Yet for the time this answere he to him behight. [37] Glad would I surely be, thou courteous Squire, To haue have thy presence in my present quest, That mote thy kindled courage set on fire, And flame forth honour in thy noble brest: But I am bound by vow, which I profest To my dread Soueraine Soveraine , when I it assayd, That in atchieuement atchievement of her high behest, I should no creature ioyne joyne vnto unto mine ayde, For thy I may not graunt, that ye so greatly prayde. [38] But since this Ladie is all desolate, And needeth safegard now vpon upon her way, Ye may doe well in this her needfull state To succour her, from daunger of dismay; Cant. II. FAERIE QVEENE QUEENE . 381 That thankfull guerdon may to you repay. The noble ympe of such new seruice service fayne, It gladly did accept, as he did say. So taking courteous leaue leave , they parted twayne, And Calidore forth passed to his former payne. [39] But Tristram then despoyling that dead knight Of all those goodly implements of prayse, Long fed his greedie eyes with the faire sight Of the bright mettall, shyning like Sunne rayes; Handling and turning them a thousand wayes. And after hauing having them vpon upon him dight, He tooke that Ladie, and her vp up did rayse Vpon Upon the steed of her owne late dead knight: So with her marched forth, as she did him behight. [40] There to their fortune leaue leave we them awhile, And turne we backe to good Sir Calidore; Who ere he thence had traueild traveild many a mile, Came to the place, whereas ye heard afore This knight, whom Tristram slew, had wounded sore Another knight in his despiteous pryde; There he that knight found lying on the flore, With many wounds full perilous and wyde, That all his garments, and the grasse in vermeill dyde. [41] And there beside him sate vp up the ground His wofull Ladie, piteously complayning With loud laments that most vnluckie unluckie stound, And her sad selfe with carefull hand constrayning To wype his wounds, and ease their bitter payning. Which sorie sight when Calidore did vew With heauie heavie eyne, from teares vneath uneath refrayning, His mightie hart their mournefull case can rew, And for their better comfort to them nigher drew. 382 THE VI. BOOKE OF THE Cant. II. For [42] Then speaking to the Ladie, thus he sayd: Ye dolefull Dame, let not your griefe empeach To tell, what cruell hand hath thus arayd This knight vnarm’d unarm’d , with so vnknightly unknightly breach Of armes, that if I yet him nigh may reach, I may auenge avenge him of so foule despight. The Ladie hearing his so courteous speach, Gan reare her eyes as to the chearefull light, And from her sory hart few heauie heavie words forth sight. [43] In which she shew’d, how that discourteous knight (Whom Tristram slew) them in that shadow found, Ioying Joying together in vnblam’d unblam’d delight, And him vnarm’d unarm’d , as now he lay on ground, Charg’d with his speare and mortally did wound, Withouten cause, but onely her to reaue reave From him, to whom she was for euer ever bound: Yet when she fled into that couert covert greaue greave , He her not finding, both them thus nigh dead did leaue leave . [44] When Calidore this ruefull storie had Well vnderstood understood , he gan of her demand, What manner wight he was, and how yclad, Which had this his outrage wrought with wicked hand. She then, like as she best could vnderstood understood , Him thus describ’d, to be of stature large, Clad all in gilden armes, with azure band Quartred athwart, and bearing in his targe A Ladie on rough waues waves , row’d in a sommer barge. [45] Then gan Sir Calidore to ghesse streight way By many signes, which she described had, That this was he, whom Tristram earst did slay, And to her said; Dame be no longer sad: Cant. II. FAERIE QVEENE QUEENE . 383 Bb For he, that hath your Knight so ill bestad, Is now him selfe in much more wretched plight; These eyes him saw vpon upon the cold earth sprad, The meede of his desert for that despight, Which to your selfe he wrought, & and to your loued loved knight. [46] Therefore faire Lady lay aside this griefe, Which ye haue have gathered to your gentle hart, For that displeasure; and thinke what reliefe Were best deuise devise for this your louers lovers smart, And how ye may him hence, and to what part Conuay Convay to be recur’d. She thankt him deare, Both for that newes he did to her impart, And for the courteous care, which he did beare Both to her loue love ; and to her selfe in that sad dreare. [47] Yet could she not deuise devise by any wit, How thence she might conuay convay him to some place. For him to trouble she it thought vnfit unfit , That was a straunger to her wretched case; And him to beare, she thought it thing too base. Which when as he perceiu’d perceiv’d , he thus bespake; Faire Lady let it not you seeme disgrace, To beare this burden on your dainty backe; My selfe will beare a part, coportion of your packe. [48] So off he did his shield, and downeward layd Vpon Upon the ground, like to an hollow beare; And powring balme, which he had long puruayd, Into his wounds, him vp up thereon did reare, And twixt them both with parted paines did beare, Twixt life and death, not knowing what was donne. Thence they him carried to a Castle neare, In which a worthy auncient Knight did wonne: Where what ensu’d, shall in next Canto be begonne.