For she in hell and heaven had power equally.
XXXV
There was Ixion turned on a wheele,
For daring tempt the queene of heaven to sin;
And Sisyphus an huge round stone did reele
Against an hill, ne might from labour lin; 310
There thristy Tantalus hong by the chin;
And Tityus fed a vultur on his maw;
Typhœus joynts were stretched on a gin;
Theseus condemned to endlesse slouth by law;
And fifty sisters water in leke vessels draw. 315
XXXVI
They all, beholding worldly wights in place,
Leave off their worke, unmindfull of their smart,
To gaze on them; who forth by them doe pace,
Till they be come unto the furthest part:
Where was a cave ywrought by wondrous art, 320
Deepe, darke, uneasy, dolefull, comfortlesse,
In which sad Aesculapius far apart
Emprisond was in chaines remedilesse,
For that Hippolytus rent corse he did redresse.
XXXVII
Hippolytus a jolly huntsman was, 325
That wont in charett chace the foming bore;
He all his peeres in beauty did surpas,
But ladies love, as losse of time, forbore:
His wanton stepdame loved him the more;
But when she saw her offred sweets refusd, 330
Her love she turnd to hate, and him before
His father fierce of treason false accusd,
And with her gealous termes his open eares abusd.
XXXVIII
Who, all in rage, his sea-god syre besought,
Some cursed vengeaunce on his sonne to cast: 335
From surging gulf two monsters streight were brought,
With dread whereof his chacing steedes aghast
Both charett swifte and huntsman overcast.
His goodly corps, on ragged cliffs yrent,
Was quite dismembred, and his members chast 340
Scattered on every mountaine as he went,
That of Hippolytus was lefte no moniment.
XXXIX
His cruell stepdame, seeing what was donne,
Her wicked daies with wretched knife did end,
In death avowing th’ innocence of her sonne. 345
Which hearing, his rash syre began to rend
His heare, and hasty tong, that did offend:
Tho, gathering up the relicks of his smart,
By Dianes meanes, who was Hippolyts frend,
Them brought to Aesculape, that by his art 350
Did heale them all againe, and joyned every part.
XL
Such wondrous science in mans witt to rain
When Jove avizd, that could the dead revive,
And fates expired could renew again,
Of endlesse life he might him not deprive, 355
But unto hell did thrust him downe alive,
With flashing thunderbolt ywounded sore:
Where long remaining, he did alwaies strive
Him selfe with salves to health for to restore,
And slake the heavenly fire, that raged evermore. 360
XLI
There auncient Night arriving, did alight
From her nigh weary wayne, and in her armes
To Æsculapius brought the wounded knight:
Whome having softly disaraid of armes,
Tho gan to him discover all his harmes, 365
Beseeching him with prayer, and with praise,
If either salves, or oyles, or herbes, or charmes
A fordonne wight from dore of death mote raise,
He would at her request prolong her nephews daies.
XLII
‘Ah! dame,’ quoth he, ‘thou temptest me in vaine 370
To dare the thing, which daily yet I rew,
And the old cause of my continued paine
With like attempt to like end to renew.
Is not enough, that, thrust from heaven dew,
Here endlesse penaunce for one fault I pay, 375
But that redoubled crime with vengeaunce new
Thou biddest me to eeke? Can Night defray
The wrath of thundring Jove, that rules both Night and Day?’
XLIII
‘Not so,’ quoth she; ‘but sith that heavens king
From hope of heaven hath thee excluded quight, 380
Why fearest thou, that canst not hope for thing,
And fearest not that more thee hurten might,
Now in the powre of everlasting Night?
Goe to then, O thou far renowmed sonne
Of great Apollo, shew thy famous might 385
In medicine, that els hath to thee wonne
XLIV
Her words prevaild: and then the learned leach
His cunning hand gan to his wounds to lay,
And all things els, the which his art did teach: 390
Which having seene, from thence arose away
The mother of dredd darkenesse, and let stay
Aveugles sonne there in the leaches cure,
And backe retourning, tooke her wonted way
To ronne her timely race, whilst Phoebus pure 395
In westerne waves his weary wagon did recure.
XLV
The false Duessa, leaving noyous Night,
Returnd to stately pallace of Dame Pryde;
Where when she came, she found the Faery knight
Departed thence, albee his woundes wyde, 400
Not throughly heald, unready were to ryde.
Good cause he had to hasten thence away;
For on a day his wary dwarfe had spyde
Where, in a dungeon deepe, huge nombers lay
Of caytive wretched thralls, that wayled night and day: 405
XLVI
A ruefull sight as could be seene with eie:
Of whom he learned had in secret wise
To hidden cause of their captivitie;
How mortgaging their lives to Covetise,
Through wastfull pride and wanton riotise, 410
They were by law of that proud tyrannesse,
Provokt with Wrath, and Envyes false surmise,
Condemned to that dongeon mercilesse,
Where they should live in wo, and dye in wretchednesse.
XLVII
There was that great proud king of Babylon, 415
That would compell all nations to adore,
And him as onely God to call upon,
Till, through celestiall doome thrown out of dore,
Into an oxe he was transformed of yore:
There also was King Crœsus, that enhaunst 420
His hart too high through his great richesse store;
And proud Antiochus, the which advaunst
His cursed hand gainst God, and on his altares daunst.
XLVIII
And, them long time before, great Nimrod was,
That first the world with sword and fire warrayd; 425
And after him old Ninus far did pas
In princely pomp, of all the world obayd;
There also was that mightie monarch layd
Low under all, yet above all in pride,
That name of native syre did fowle upbrayd, 430
And would as Ammons sonne be magnifide,
Till, scornd of God and man, a shamefull death he dide.
XLIX
All these together in one heape were throwne,
Like carkases of beastes in butchers stall.
And, in another corner, wide were strowne 435
The antique ruins of the Romanes fall:
Great Romulus, the grandsyre of them all,
Proud Tarquin, and too lordly Lentulus,
Stout Scipio, and stubborne Hanniball,
Ambitious Sylla, and sterne Marius, 440
High Cae
sar, great Pompey, and fiers Antonius.
L
Amongst these mightie men were wemen mixt,
Proud wemen, vaine, forgetfull of their yoke:
The bold Semiramis, whose sides, transfixt
With sonnes own blade, her fowle reproches spoke; 445
Fayre Sthenobœa, that her selfe did choke
With wilfull chord, for wanting of her will;
High minded Cleopatra, that with stroke
Of aspes sting her selfe did stoutly kill:
And thousands moe the like, that did that dongeon fill. 450
LI
Besides the endlesse routes of wretched thralles,
Which thether were assembled day by day,
From all the world, after their wofull falles
Through wicked pride and wasted welthes decay.
But most, of all which in that dongeon lay, 455
Fell from high princes courtes, or ladies bowres,
Where they in ydle pomp, or wanton play,
Consumed had their goods, and thriftlesse howres,
And lastly thrown themselves into these heavy stowres.
LII
Whose case whenas the carefull dwarfe had tould, 460
And made ensample of their mournfull sight
Unto his maister, he no lenger would
There dwell in perill of like painefull plight,
But earely rose, and ere that dawning light
Discovered had the world to heaven wyde, 465
He by a privy posterne tooke his flight,
That of no envious eyes he mote be spyde:
For doubtlesse death ensewed, if any him descryde.
LIII
Scarse could he footing find in that fowle way,
For many corses, like a great lay-stall, 470
Of murdred men, which therein strowed lay,
Without remorse or decent funerall:
Which al through that great princesse pride did fall
And came to shamefull end. And them besyde,
Forth ryding underneath the castell wall, 475
A donghill of dead carcases he spyde,
The dreadfull spectacle of that sad House of Pryde.
Faerie Queene Detailed Table of Contents
Glossary for ‘The Faerie Queene’
Canto VI
From lawlesse lust by wondrous grace
Fayre Una is releast:
Whom salvage nation does adore,
And learnes her wise beheast.
I
AS when a ship, that flyes fayre under sayle,
An hidden rocke escaped hath unwares,
That lay in waite her wrack for to bewaile,
The marriner, yet halfe amazed, stares
At perill past, and yet in doubt ne dares 5
To joy at his foolhappie oversight:
So doubly is distrest twixt joy and cares
The dreadlesse corage of this Elfin knight,
Having escapt so sad ensamples in his sight.
II
Yet sad he was, that his too hastie speed 10
The fayre Duess’ had forst him leave behind;
And yet more sad, that Una, his deare dreed,
Her truth had staynd with treason so unkind:
Yet cryme in her could never creature find,
But for his love, and for her own selfe sake, 15
She wandered had from one to other Ynd,
Him for to seeke, ne ever would forsake,
Till her unwares the fiers Sansloy did overtake.
III
Who, after Archimagoes fowle defeat,
Led her away into a forest wilde, 20
And turning wrathfull fyre to lustfull heat,
With beastly sin thought her to have defilde,
And made the vassall of his pleasures vilde.
Yet first he cast by treatie, and by traynes,
Her to persuade that stubborne fort to yilde: 25
For greater conquest of hard love he gaynes,
That workes it to his will, then he that it constraines.
IV
With fawning wordes he courted her a while,
And, looking lovely and oft sighing sore,
Her constant hart did tempt with diverse guile: 30
But wordes, and lookes, and sighes she did abhore,
As rock of diamond stedfast evermore.
Yet for to feed his fyrie lustfull eye,
He snatcht the vele that hong her face before:
Then gan her beautie shyne as brightest skye, 35
And burnt his beastly hart t’ efforce her chastitye.
V
So when he saw his flatt’ring artes to fayle,
And subtile engines bett from batteree,
With greedy force he gan the fort assayle,
Whereof he weend possessed soone to bee, 40
And win rich spoile of ransackt chastitee.
Ah! heavens, that doe this hideous act behold,
And heavenly virgin thus outraged see,
How can ye vengeance just so long withhold,
And hurle not flashing flames upon that Paynim bold? 45
VI
The pitteous mayden, carefull comfortlesse,
Does throw out thrilling shriekes, and shrieking cryes,
The last vaine helpe of wemens great distresse,
And with loud plaintes importuneth the skyes;
That molten starres doe drop like weeping eyes, 50
And Phœbus, flying so most shamefull sight,
His blushing face in foggy cloud implyes,
And hydes for shame. What witt of mortall wight
Can now devise to quitt a thrall from such a plight?
VII
Eternall Providence, exceeding thought, 55
Where none appeares can make her selfe a way:
A wondrous way it for this lady wrought,
From lyons clawes to pluck the gryped pray.
Her shrill outcryes and shrieks so loud did bray,
That all the woodes and forestes did resownd; 60
A troupe of Faunes and Satyres far a way
Within the wood were dauncing in a rownd,
Whiles old Sylvanus slept in shady arber sownd.
VIII
Who, when they heard that pitteous strained voice,
In haste forsooke their rurall meriment, 65
And ran towardes the far rebownded noyce,
To weet what wight so loudly did lament.
Unto the place they come incontinent:
Whom when the raging Sarazin espyde,
A rude, mishapen, monstrous rablement, 70
Whose like he never saw, he durst not byde,
But got his ready steed, and fast away gan ryde.
IX
The wyld woodgods, arrived in the place,
There find the virgin doolfull desolate,
With ruffled rayments, and fayre blubbred face, 75
As her outrageous foe had left her late,
And trembling yet through feare of former hate.
All stand amazed at so uncouth sight,
And gin to pittie her unhappie state;
All stand astonied at her beautie bright, 80
In their rude eyes unworthy of so wofull plight.
X
She, more amazd, in double dread doth dwell;
And every tender part for feare does shake:
As when a greedy wolfe, through honger fell,
A seely lamb far from the flock does take, 85
Of whom he meanes his bloody feast to make,
A lyon spyes fast running towards him,
The innocent pray in hast he does forsake,
Which, quitt from death, yet quakes in every lim
With chaunge of feare, to see the lyon looke so grim. 90
XI
Such fearefull fitt assaid her trembling hart,
Ne word to speake, ne joynt to move, she had:
The salvage nation feele her secret smart,
And read her sorrow in her count’nance sad:
Their frowning forheades, with rough hornes yclad, 95
And rustick horror, all a syde doe lay,
And, gently grenning, shew a semblance glad
To comfort her, and, feare to put away,
Their backward bent knees teach her humbly to obay.
XII
The doubtfull damzell dare not yet committ 100
Her single person to their barbarous truth,
But still twixt feare and hope amazd does sitt,
Late learnd what harme to hasty trust ensu’th:
They, in compassion of her tender youth,
And wonder of her beautie soverayne, 105
Are wonne with pitty and unwonted ruth,
And all prostrate upon the lowly playne,
Doe kisse her feete, and fawne on her with count’nance fayne.
XIII
Their harts she ghesseth by their humble guise,
And yieldes her to extremitie of time; 110
So from the ground she fearelesse doth arise,
And walketh forth without suspect of crime:
They all as glad as birdes of joyous pryme,
Thence lead her forth, about her dauncing round,
Shouting, and singing all a shepheards ryme; 115
And, with greene braunches strowing all the ground,
Do worship her as queene with olive girlond cround.
XIV
And all the way their merry pipes they sound,
That all the woods with doubled eccho ring,
And with their horned feet doe weare the ground, 120
Leaping like wanton kids in pleasant spring.
So towards old Sylvanus they her bring;
Who with the noyse awaked, commeth out
To weet the cause, his weake steps governing
And aged limbs on cypresse stadle stout; 125
And with an yvie twyne his waste is girt about.
XV
Far off he wonders what them makes so glad,
Or Bacchus merry fruit they did invent,
Or Cybeles franticke rites have made them mad.
They, drawing nigh, unto their god present 130
That flowre of fayth and beautie excellent:
The god himselfe, vewing that mirrhour rare,
Stood long amazd, and burnt in his intent:
His owne fayre Dryope now he thinkes not faire,
And Pholoe fowle, when her to this he doth compaire. 135
XVI
The woodborne people fall before her flat,
And worship her as goddesse of the wood;
And old Sylvanus selfe bethinkes not, what
To thinke of wight so fayre, but gazing stood,
In doubt to deeme her borne of earthly brood: 140
Sometimes Dame Venus selfe he seemes to see,
But Venus never had so sober mood;
Sometimes Diana he her takes to be,
But misseth bow, and shaftes, and buskins to her knee.