Classic Poem

CANTO II
Artegall heares of Florimell;
Does with the Pagan fight:
Him slaies, drownes Lady Munera,
Does race her castle quight.
I
Nought is more honorable to a knight,
Ne better doth beseeme brave chevalry,
Then to defend the feeble in their right,
And wrong redresse in such as wend awry
Whilome those great heroes got thereby
Their greatest glory, for their rightfull deedes,
And place deserved with the gods on hy
Herein the noblesse of this knight exceedes,
Who now to perils great for justice sake proceedes.
II
To which as he now was uppon the way,
He chaunst to meet a dwarfe in hasty course;
Whom he requir'd his forward hast to stay,
Till he of tidings mote with him discourse.
Loth was the dwarfe, yet did he stay perforse,
And gan of sundry newes his store to tell,
As to his memory they had recourse:
But chiefely of the fairest Florimell,
How she was found againe, and spousde to Marinell.
III
For this was Dony, Florimels owne dwarfe,
Whom having lost (as ye have heard whyleare)
And finding in the way the scattred scarfe,
The fortune of her life long time did feare.
But of her health when Artegall did heare,
And safe returne, he was full inly glad,
And askt him where and when her bridale cheare
Should be solemniz'd: for if time he had,
He would be there, and honor to her spousall ad.
IV
‘Within three daies,’ quoth he, ‘as I do here,
It will be at the Castle of the Strond;
What time, if naught me let, I will be there
To doe her service, so as I am bond
But in my way a little here beyond
A cursed cruell Sarazin doth wonne,
That keepes a bridges passage by strong hond,
And many errant knights hath there fordonne;
That makes all men for feare that passage for to shonne.’
V
‘What mister wight,’ quoth he, ‘and how far hence
Is he, that doth to travellers such harmes?’
‘He is,’ said he, ‘a man of great defence;
Expert in battell and in deedes of armes;
And more emboldned by the wicked charmes,
With which his daughter doth him still support;
Having great lordships got and goodly farmes,
Through strong oppression of his powre extort;
By which he stil them holds, and keepes with strong effort.
VI
‘And dayly he his wrongs encreaseth more;
For never wight he lets to passe that way,
Over his bridge, albee he rich or poore,
But he him makes his passage-penny pay:
Else he doth hold him backe or beat away.
Thereto he hath a groome of evill guize,
Whose scalp is bare, that bondage doth bewray,
Which pols and pils the poore in piteous wize;
But he him selfe uppon the rich doth tyrannize.
VII
‘His name is hight Pollente, rightly so,
For that he is so puissant and strong,
That with his powre he all doth overgo,
And makes them subject to his mighty wrong;
And some by sleight he eke doth underfong:
For on a bridge he custometh to fight,
Which is but narrow, but exceeding long;
And in the same are many trap fals pight,
Through which the rider downe doth fall through oversight.
VIII
‘And underneath the same a river flowes,
That is both swift and dangerous deepe withall;
Into the which whom so he overthrowes,
All destitute of helpe doth headlong fall;
But he him selfe, through practise usuall,
Leapes forth into the floud, and there assaies
His foe confused through his sodaine fall,
That horse and man he equally dismaies,
And either both them drownes, or trayterously slaies.
IX
‘Then doth he take the spoile of them at will,
And to his daughter brings, that dwels thereby:
Who all that comes doth take, and therewith fill
The coffers of her wicked threasury;
Which she with wrongs hath heaped up so hy,
That many princes she in wealth exceedes,
And purchast all the countrey lying ny
With the revenue of her plenteous meedes:
Her name is Munera, agreeing with her deedes.
X
‘Thereto she is full faire, and rich attired,
With golden hands and silver feete beside,
That many lords have her to wife desired:
But she them all despiseth for great pride.’
‘Now by my life,’ sayd he, ‘and God to guide,
None other way will I this day betake,
But by that bridge, whereas he doth abide:
Therefore me thither lead.’ No more he spake,
But thitherward forthright his ready way did make.
XI
Unto the place he came within a while,
Where on the bridge he ready armed saw
The Sarazin, awayting for some spoile
Who as they to the passage gan to draw,
A villaine to them came with scull all raw,
That passage money did of them require,
According to the custome of their law
To whom he aunswerd wroth, ‘Loe! there thy hire;’
And with that word him strooke, that streight he did expire.
XII
Which when the Pagan saw, he wexed wroth,
And streight him selfe unto the fight addrest,
Ne was Sir Artegall behinde: so both
Together ran with ready speares in rest.
Right in the midst, whereas they brest to brest
Should meete, a trap was letten downe to fall
Into the floud: streight leapt the carle unblest,
Well weening that his foe was falne withall:
But he was well aware, and leapt before his fall.
XIII
There being both together in the floud,
They each at other tyrannously flew;
Ne ought the water cooled their whot bloud,
But rather in them kindled choler new.
But there the Paynim, who that use well knew
To fight in water, great advantage had,
That oftentimes him nigh he overthrew:
And eke the courser whereuppon he rad
Could swim like to a fish, whiles he his backe bestrad.
XIV
Which oddes when as Sir Artegall espide,
He saw no way but close with him in hast;
And to him driving strongly downe the tide,
Uppon his iron coller griped fast,
That with the straint his wesand nigh he brast.
There they together strove and struggled long,
Either the other from his steede to cast;
Ne ever Artegall his griple strong
For any thing wold slacke, but still uppon him hong.
XV
As when a dolphin and a sele are met
In the wide champian of the ocean plaine:
With cruell chaufe their courages they whet,
The maysterdome of each by force to gaine,
And dreadfull battaile twixt them do darraine:
They snuf, they snort, they bounce, they rage, they rore,
That all the sea, disturbed with their traine,
Doth frie with fome above the surges hore:
Such was betwixt these two the trouble-some uprore.
XVI
So Artegall at length him forst forsake
His horses backe, for dread of being drownd,
And to his handy swimming him betake.
Eftsoones him selfe he from his hold unbownd,
And then no ods at all in him he fownd:
For Artegall in swimming skilfull was,
And durst the depth of any water sownd.
So ought each knight, that use of perill has,
In swimming be expert, through waters force to pas.
XVII
Then very doubtfull was the warres event,
Uncertaine whether had the better side:
For both were skild in that experiment,
And both in armes well traind and throughly tride.
But Artegall was better breath'd beside,
And towards th' end grew greater in his might,
That his faint foe no longer could abide
His puissance, ne beare him selfe upright,
But from the water to the land betooke his flight.
XVIII
But Artegall pursewd him still so neare,
With bright Chrysaor in his cruell hand,
That, as his head he gan a litle reare
Above the brincke, to tread upon the land,
He smote it off, that tumbling on the strand
It bit the earth for very fell despight,
And gnashed with his teeth, as if he band
High God, whose goodnesse he despaired quight,
Or curst the hand which did that vengeance on him dight.
XIX
His corps was carried downe along the lee,
Whose waters with his filthy bloud it stayned:
But his blasphemous head, that all might see,
He pitcht upon a pole on high ordayned;
Where many years it afterwards remayned,
To be a mirrour to all mighty men,
In whose right hands great power is contayned,
That none of them the feeble overren,
But alwaies doe their powre within just compasse pen.
XX
That done, unto the castle he did wend,
In which the Paynims daughter did abide,
Guarded of many which did her defend:
Of whom he entrance sought, but was denide,
And with reprochfull blasphemy defide,
Beaten with stones downe from the battilment,
That he was forced to withdraw aside;
And bad his servant Talus to invent
Which way he enter might without endangerment
XXI
Eftsoones his page drew to the castle gate,
And with his iron flale at it let flie,
That all the warders it did sore amate,
The which erewhile spake so reprochfully,
And made them stoupe, that looked earst so hie.
Yet still he bet and bounst uppon the dore,
And thundred strokes thereon so hideouslie,
That all the peece he shaked from the flore,
And filled all the house with feare and great uprore.
XXII
With noise whereof the lady forth appeared
Uppon the castle wall; and when she saw
The daungerous state in which she stood, she feared
The sad effect of her neare overthrow;
And gan entreat that iron man below
To cease his outrage, and him faire besought,
Sith neither force of stones which they did throw,
Nor powr of charms, which she against him wrought,
Might otherwise prevaile, or make him cease for ought.
XXIII
But when as yet she saw him to proceede,
Unmov'd with praiers or with piteous thought,
She ment him to corrupt with goodly meede;
And causde great sackes with endlesse riches fraught,
Unto the battilment to be upbrought,
And powred forth over the castle wall,
That she might win some time, though dearly bought,
Whilest he to gathering of the gold did fall.
But he was nothing mov'd nor tempted therewithall;
XXIV
But still continu'd his assault the more,
And layd on load with his huge yron flaile,
That at the length he has yrent the dore,
And made way for his maister to assaile
Who being entred, nought did then availe
For wight, against his powre them selves to reare:
Each one did flie; their hearts began to faile;
And hid them selves in corners here and there;
And eke their dame halfe dead did hide her self for feare.
XXV
Long they her sought, yet no where could they finde her,
That sure they ween'd she was escapt away:
But Talus, that could like a limehound winde her,
And all things secrete wisely could bewray,
At length found out whereas she hidden lay
Under an heape of gold. Thence he her drew
By the faire lockes, and fowly did array,
Withouten pitty of her goodly hew,
That Artegall him selfe her seemelesse plight did rew.
XXVI
Yet for no pitty would he change the cours
Of justice, which in Talus hand did lye;
Who rudely hayld her forth without remorse,
Still holding up her suppliant hands or hye,
And kneeling at his feete submissively.
But he her suppliant hands, those hands o gold,
And eke her feete, those feete of silver trye,
Which sought unrighteousnesse, and justice sold,
Chopt off, and nayld on high, that all might them behold.
XXVII
Her selfe then tooke he by the sclender wast,
In vaine loud crying, and into the flood
Over the castle wall adowne her cast,
And there her drowned in the durty mud:
But the streame washt away her guilty blood
Thereafter all that mucky pelfe he tooke,
The spoile of peoples evill gotten good,
The which her sire had scrap't by hooke and crooke,
And burning all to ashes, powr'd it downe the brooke.
XXVIII
And lastly all that castle quite he raced,
Even from the sole of his foundation,
And all the hewen stones thereof defaced,
That there mote be no hope of reparation,
Nor memory thereof to any nation.
All which when Talus throughly had perfourmed,
Sir Artegall undid the evill fashion,
And wicked customes of that bridge refourned:
Which done, unto his former journey he retourned.
XXIX
In which they measur'd mickle weary way,
Till that at length nigh to the sea they drew;
By which as they did travell on a day,
They saw before them, far as they could vew,
Full many people gathered in a crew;
Whose great assembly they did much admire;
For never there the like resort they knew
So towardes them they coasted, to enquire
What thing so many nations met did there desire.
XXX
Upon a rocke, and holding forth on hie
An huge great paire of ballance in his hand,
With which he boasted in his surquedrie,
That all the world he would weigh equallie,
If ought he had the same to counterpoys
For want whereof he weighed vanity,
And fild his ballaunce full of idle toys:
Yet was admired much of fooles, women, and boys.
XXXI
He sayd that he would all the earth uptake,
And all the sea, devided each from either:
So would he of the fire one ballaunce make,
And one of th' ayre, without or wind or wether:
Then would he ballaunce heaven and hell together,
And all that did within them all containe;
Of all whose weight he would not misse a fether:
And looke what surplus did of each remaine,
He would to his owne part restore the same-againe.
XXXII
Forwhy, he sayd, they all unequall were,
And had encroched uppon others share,
Like as the sea (which plaine he shewed there)
Had worne the earth, so did the fire the aire,
So all the rest did others parts empaire,
And so were realmes and nations run awry
All which he undertooke for to repaire,
In sort as they were formed aunciently;
And all things would reduce unto equality.
XXXIII
Therefore the vulgar did about him flocke,
And cluster thicke unto his leasings vaine,
Like foolish flies about an hony crocke,
In hope by him great benefite to gaine,
And uncontrolled freedome to obtaine.
All which when Artegall did see and heare,
How he mis-led the simple peoples traine,
In sdeignfull wize he drew unto him neare,
And thus unto him spake, without regard or feare:
XXXIV
‘Thou that presum'st to weigh the world anew,
And all things to an equall to restore,
In stead of right me seemes great wrong dost shew,
And far above thy forces pitch to sore.
For ere thou limit what is lesse or more
In every thing, thou oughtest first to know,
What was the poyse of every part of yore:
And looke then, how much it doth overflow,
Or faile thereof, so much is more then just to trow.
XXXV
‘For at the first they all created were
In goodly measure by their Makers might,
And weighed out in ballaunces so nere,
That not a dram was missing of their right:
The earth was in the middle centre pight,
In which it doth immoveable abide,
Hemd in with waters like a wall in sight;
And they with aire, that not a drop can slide:
Al which the heavens containe, and in their courses guide.
XXXVI
‘Such heavenly justice doth among them raine,
That every one doe know their certaine bound,
In which they doe these many yeares remaine,
And mongst them al no change hath yet beene found
But if thou now shouldst weigh them new in pound,
We are not sure they would so long remaine:
All change is perillous, and all chaunce unsound.
Therefore leave off to weigh them all againe,
Till we may be assur'd they shall their course retaine.’
XXXVII
‘Thou foolishe Elfe,’ said then the gyant wroth,
‘Seest not, how badly all things present bee,
And each estate quite out of order goth?
The sea it selfe doest thou not plainely see
Encroch uppon the land there under thee;
And th' earth it selfe how daily its increast
By all that dying to it turned be?
Were it not good that wrong were then surceast,
And from the most, that some were given to the least?
XXXVIII
‘Therefore I will throw downe these mountaines hie,
And make them levell with the lowly plaine:
These towring rocks, which reach unto the skie,
I will thrust downe into the deepest maine,
And as they were, them equalize againe
Tyrants, that make men subject to their law,
I will suppresse, that they no more may raine;
And lordings curbe, that commons over-aw;
And all the wealth of rich men to the poore will draw.’
XXXIX
‘Of things unseene how canst thou deeme aright,’
Then answered the righteous Artegall,
‘Sith thou misdeem'st so much of things in sight?
What though the sea with waves continuall
Doe eate the earth? it is no more at all,
Ne is the earth the lesse, or loseth ought:
For whatsoever from one place doth fall
Is with the tide unto an other brought:
For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought.
XL
‘Likewise the earth is not augmented more
By all that dying into it doe fade:
For of the earth they formed were of yore;
How ever gay their blossome or