Faire Una to the Redcrosse knight
betrouthed is with joy:
Though false Duessa, it to barre,
her false sleights doe imploy.
I BEHOLD I see the haven nigh at hand,
To which I meane my wearie course to bend;
Vere the maine shete, and beare up with the land,
The which afore is fairely to be kend,
And seemeth safe from storms that may offend:
There this faire virgin wearie of her way
Must landed be, now at her journeyes end:
There eke my feeble barke a while may stay,
Till merry wind and weather call her thence away.
2 Scarsely had Phoebus in the gloomy East
Yet harnessed his firie-footed teeme,
Ne reard above the earth his flaming creast;
When the last deadly smoke aloft did steeme
That signe of last outbreathed life did seeme
Unto the watchman on the castle wall,
Who thereby dead that balefull Beast did deeme,
And to his Lord and Lady lowd gan call,
To tell how he had seene the Dragons fatall fall.
3 Uprose with hasty joy, and feeble speed,
That aged Sire, the Lord of all that land,
And locked forth, to weet if true indeed
Those tydings were, as he did understand:
Which whenas true by tryall he out found,
He bad to open wyde his brazen gate,
Which long time had beene shut, and out of hond
Proclaymed joy and peace through all his state;
For dead now was their foe, which them forrayed late.
4 Then gan triumphant trompets sound on hie,
That sent to heaven the ecchoed report
Of their new joy, and happie victory
Gainst him, that had them long opprest with tort,
And fast imprisoned in sieged fort.
Then all the people, as in solemne feast,
To him assembled with one full consort,
Rejoycing at the fall of that great beast,
From whose eternall bondage now they were releast.
5 Forth came that auncient Lord, and aged Queene,
Arayd in antique robes downe to the ground,
And sad habiliments right well beseene:
A noble crew about them waited round
Of sage and sober peres, all gravely gownd;
Whom far before did march a goodly band
Of tall young men, all hable armes to sownd,
But now they laurell braunches bore in hand;
Glad signe of victory and peace in all their land.
6 Unto that doughtie conquerour they came,
And him before themselves prostrating low,
Their Lord and patrone loud did him proclame,
And at his feet their lawrell boughes did throw.
Soone after them, all dauncing on a row,
The comely virgins came, with girlands dight,
As fresh as flowres in medow greene do grow,
When morning deaw upon their leaves doth light;
And in their hands sweet timbrells all upheld on hight.
7 And, them before, the fry of children yong
Their wanton sportes and childish mirth did play,
And to the maydens sounding tymbrels song,
In well attuned notes, a joyous lay,
And made delightful musick all the way,
Untill they came, where that faire virgin stood:
As faire Diana in fresh sommers day
Beholdes her Nymphes enraung'd in shady wood,
Some wrestle, some do run, some bathe in christall flood:
8 So she beheld those maydens meriment
With chearefull vew; who, when to her they came, Themselves to ground with gracious humblesse bent, And her ador'd by honorable name,
Lifting to heaven her everlasting fame:
Then on her head thy set a girlond greene,
And crowned her twixt earnest and twixt game:
Who, in her self-resemblance well beseene,
Did seeme, such as she was, a goodly maiden Queene.
9 And after, all the raskall many ran,
Heaped together in rude rablement,
To see the face of that victorious man,
Whom all admired as from heaven sent,
And gaz'd upon with gaping wonderment.
But when they came where that dead Dragon lay,
Stretcht on the ground in monstrous large extent,
The sight with idle feare did them dismay,
Ne durst approch him nigh, to touch, or once assay.
10 Some feard, and fled; some feard, and well it faynd;
One, that would wiser seeme then all the rest,
Warnd him not touch, for yet perhaps remaynd
Some lingring life within his hollow brest,
Or in his wombe might lurke some hidden nest
Of many Dragonets, his fruitfull seed;
Another said, that in his eyes did rest
Yet sparckling fire, and bad thereof take heed;
Another said, he saw him move his eyes indeed.
11 One mother, whenas her foolehardy chyld
Did come too neare, and with his talants play,
Halfe dead through feare, her litle babe revyld,
And to her gossips gan in counsell say;
How can I tell, but that his talents may
Yet scratch my sonne, or rend his tender hand?
So diversly themselves in vaine they fray;
Whiles some, more bold, to measure him nigh stand,
To prove how many acres he did spread of land.
12 Thus flocked all the folke him round about;
The whiles that hoarie king, with all his traine,
Being arrived where that champion stout
After his foes defeasaunce did remaine,
Him goodly greetes, and faire does entertaine
With princely gifts of yvory and gold,
And thousand thankes him yeeldes for all his paine.
Then when his daughter deare he does behold,
He dearely doth imbrace, and kisseth manifold.
13 And after to his pallace he them brings,
With shaumes, and trompets, and with clarions sweet;
And all the way the joyous people singes,
And with their garments strowes the paved street;
Whence mounting up, they fynd purveyaunce meet
Of all, that royall Princes court became;
And all the floore was underneath their feet
Bespred with costly scarlot of great name,
On which they lowly sit, and fitting purpose frame.
14 What needs me tell their feast and goodly guize,
In which was nothing riotous nor vaine?
What needes of dainty dishes to devize,
Of comely services, or courtly trayne,
My narrow leaves cannot in them containe
The large discourse of royall Princes state.
Yet was their manner then but bare and plaine;
For th' antique world excesse and pride did hate:
Such proud luxurious pompe is swollen up but late.
15 Then, when with meates and drinkes of every kinde Their fervent appetites they quenched had,
That auncient Lord gan fit occasion finde,
Of straunge adventures, and of perils sad
Which in his travell him befallen had,
For to demaund of his renowmed guest:
Who then with utt'rance grave, and count'nance sad,
From point to point, as is before exprest,
Discourst his voyage long, according his request.
16 Great pleasure, mixt with pittiful regard,
That godly King and Queene did passionate,
Whyles they his pittifull adventures heard;
That oft they did lament his lucklesse state,
And often blame the too importune fate
That heaped on him so many wrathfull wreakes:
For never gentle knight, as he of late,
So tossed was in fortunes cruell freakes;
And all the while salt teares bedeawd the hearers cheaks.
17 Then sayd that royall Pere in sober wise;
Deare sonne, great beene the evils which ye bore
From first to last in your late enterprise,
That I note, whether/praise or pitty more:
For never living man, I weene, so sore
In sea of deadly daungers was distrest;
But since now safe ye seised have the shore,
And well arrived are (high God be blest)
Let us devize of ease and everlasting rest.
18 Ah, dearest Lord, said then that doughty knight,
Of ease or rest I may not yet devize ;
For by the faith, which I to armes have plight,
I bounden am streight after this emprize,
As that your daughter can ye well advize,
Backe to returne to that great Faery Queene,
And her to serve sixe yeares in warlike wize,
Gainst that proud Paynim king that works her teene:
Therefore I ought crave pardon, till I there have beene.
19 Unhappy falls that hard necessity,
(Quoth he) the troubler of my happy peace,
And vowed foe of my felicity;
Ne I against the same can justly preace:
But since that band ye cannot now release,
Nor doen undo, (for vowes may not be vaine,)
Soone as the terme of those six yeares shall cease,
Ye then shall hither backe returne againe,
The marriage to accomplish vowd betwixt you twain :
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