The Faerie Queene, Book I, Canto 7
Edmund Spenser [More Titles by Spenser
The Redcrosse knight is captive made
by Gyaunt proud opprest,
Prince Arthur meets with Una great-
ly with those newes distrest.
What man so wise, what earthly wit so ware,
As to discry the crafty cunning traine,
By which deceipt doth maske in visour faire,
And cast her colours dyed deepe in graine,
To seeme like Truth, whose shape she well can faine, 5
And fitting gestures to her purpose frame;
The guiltlesse man with guile to entertaine?
Great maistresse of her art was that false Dame,
The false Duessa, cloked with Fidessaes name.
Who when returning from the drery Night, 10
She fownd not in that perilous house of Pryde,
Where she had left, the noble Redcrosse knight,
Her hoped pray; she would no lenger bide,
But forth she went, to seeke him far and wide.
Ere long she fownd, whereas he wearie sate 15
To rest him selfe, foreby a fountaine side,
Disarmed all of yron-coted Plate,
And by his side his steed the grassy forage ate.
He feedes upon[*] the cooling shade, and bayes
His sweatie forehead in the breathing wind, 20
Which through the trembling leaves full gently playes,
Wherein the cherefull birds of sundry kind
Do chaunt sweet musick, to delight his mind:
The Witch approaching gan him fairely greet,
And with reproch of carelesnesse unkind 25
Upbrayd, for leaving her in place unmeet,
With fowle words tempring faire, soure gall with hony sweet.
Unkindnesse past, they gan of solace treat,
And bathe in pleasaunce of the joyous shade,
Which shielded them against the boyling heat, 30
And with greene boughes decking a gloomy glade,
About the fountaine like a girlond made;
Whose bubbling wave did ever freshly well,
Ne ever would through fervent sommer fade:
The sacred Nymph, which therein wont to dwell, 35
Was out of Dianes favour, as it then befell.
The cause was this: One day, when Phoebe[*] fayre
With all her band was following the chace,
This Nymph, quite tyr'd with heat of scorching ayre,
Sat downe to rest in middest of the race: 40
The goddesse wroth gan fowly her disgrace,
And bad the waters, which from her did flow,
Be such as she her selfe was then in place.
Thenceforth her waters waxed dull and slow,
And all that drinke thereof do faint and feeble grow.[*] 45
Hereof this gentle knight unweeting was,
And lying downe upon the sandie graile,
Drunke of the streame, as cleare as cristall glas:
Eftsoones his manly forces gan to faile,
And mightie strong was turned to feeble fraile. 50
His chaunged powres at first them selves not felt,
Till crudled cold his corage gan assaile,
And cheareful bloud in faintnesse chill did melt,
Which like a fever fit through all his body swelt.
Yet goodly court he made still to his Dame, 55
Pourd[*] out in loosnesse on the grassy grownd,
Both carelesse of his health, and of his fame:
Till at the last he heard a dreadfull sownd,
Which through the wood loud bellowing did rebownd,
That all the earth for terrour seemd to shake, 60
And trees did tremble. Th' Elfe therewith astownd,
Upstarted lightly from his looser make,[*]
And his unready weapons gan in hand to take.
But ere he could his armour on him dight,
Or get his shield, his monstrous enimy 65
With sturdie steps came stalking in his sight,
An hideous Geant,[*] horrible and hye,
That with his tallnesse seemd to threat the skye,
The ground eke groned under him for dreed;
His living like saw never living eye, 70
Ne durst behold: his stature did exceed
The hight of three the tallest sonnes of mortall seed.
The greatest Earth his uncouth mother was,
And blustering Aeolus his boasted syre,
* * * * *
Brought forth this monstrous masse of earthly slime 75
Puft up with emptie wind, and fild with sinfull crime.
So growen great through arrogant delight
Of th' high descent, whereof he was yborne,
And through presumption of his matchlesse might,
All other powres and knighthood he did scorne. 80
Such now he marcheth to this man forlorne,
And left to losse: his stalking steps are stayde
Upon a snaggy Oke, which he had torne
Out of his mothers bowelles, and it made
His mortall mace, wherewith his foeman he dismayde. 85
That when the knight he spide, he gan advance
With huge force and insupportable mayne,
And towardes him with dreadfull fury praunce;
Who haplesse, and eke hopelesse, all in vaine
Did to him pace, sad battaile to darrayne, 90
Disarmd, disgrast, and inwardly dismayde,
And eke so faint in every joynt and vaine,
Through that fraile fountaine, which him feeble made,
That scarsely could he weeld his bootlesse single blade.
The Geaunt strooke so maynly mercilesse, 95
That could have overthrowne a stony towre,
And were not heavenly grace, that did him blesse,
He had beene pouldred all, as thin as flowre:
But he was wary of that deadly stowre,
And lightly lept from underneath the blow: 100
Yet so exceeding was the villeins powre,
That with the wind it did him overthrow,
And all his sences stound, that still he lay full low.
As when that divelish yron Engin[*] wrought
In deepest Hell, and framd by Furies skill, 105
With windy Nitre and quick Sulphur fraught,
And ramd with bullet round, ordaind to kill,
Conceiveth fire, the heavens it doth fill
With thundring noyse, and all the ayre doth choke,
That none can breath, nor see, nor heare at will, 110
Through smouldry cloud of duskish stincking smoke,
That th' onely breath[*] him daunts, who hath escapt the stroke.
So daunted when the Geaunt saw the knight,
His heavie hand he heaved up on hye,
And him to dust thought to have battred quight, 115
Untill Duessa loud to him gan crye;
O great Orgoglio, greatest under skye,
O hold thy mortall hand for Ladies sake,
Hold for my sake, and do him not to dye,[*]
But vanquisht thine eternall bondslave make, 120
And me, thy worthy meed, unto thy Leman take.
He hearkned, and did stay from further harmes,
To gayne so goodly guerdon, as she spake:
So willingly she came into his armes,
Who her as willingly to grace did take, 125
And was possessed of his new found make.
Then up he tooke the slombred sencelesse corse,
And ere he could out of his swowne awake,
Him to his castle brought with hastie forse,
And in a Dongeon deepe him threw without remorse. 130
From that day forth Duessa was his deare,
And highly honourd in his haughtie eye,
He gave her gold and purple pall to weare,
And triple crowne set on her head full hye,
And her endowd with royall majestye: 135
Then for to make her dreaded more of men,
And peoples harts with awfull terrour tye,
A monstrous beast[*] ybred in filthy fen
He chose, which he had kept long time in darksome den.[*]
Such one it was, as that renowmed Snake[*] 140
Which great Alcides in Stremona slew,
Long fostred in the filth of Lerna lake,
Whose many heads out budding ever new
Did breed him endlesse labour to subdew:
But this same Monster much more ugly was; 145
For seven great heads out of his body grew,
An yron brest, and back of scaly bras,[*]
And all embrewd in bloud, his eyes did shine as glas.
His tayle was stretched out in wondrous length,
That to the house of heavenly gods it raught,[*] 150
And with extorted powre, and borrow'd strength,
The ever-burning lamps from thence it braught,
And prowdly threw to ground, as things of naught;
And underneath his filthy feet did tread
The sacred things, and holy heasts foretaught.[*] 155
Upon this dreadfull Beast with sevenfold head
He sett the false Duessa, for more aw and dread.
The wofull Dwarfe, which saw his maisters fall,
Whiles he had keeping of his grasing steed,
And valiant knight become a caytive thrall, 160
When all was past, tooke up his forlorne weed,[*]
His mightie armour, missing most at need;
His silver shield, now idle maisterlesse;
His poynant speare, that many made to bleed,
The rueful moniments[*] of heavinesse, 165
And with them all departes, to tell his great distresse.
He had not travaild long, when on the way
He wofull Ladie, wofull Una met,
Fast flying from that Paynims greedy pray,
Whilest Satyrane him from pursuit did let: 170
Who when her eyes she on the Dwarfe had set,
And saw the signes, that deadly tydings spake,
She fell to ground for sorrowfull regret,
And lively breath her sad brest did forsake,
Yet might her pitteous hart be seene to pant and quake. 175
The messenger of so unhappie newes,
Would faine have dyde: dead was his hart within,
Yet outwardly some little comfort shewes:
At last recovering hart, he does begin
To rub her temples, and to chaufe her chin, 180
And everie tender part does tosse and turne.
So hardly[*] he the flitted life does win,
Unto her native prison to retourne:
Then gins her grieved ghost thus to lament and mourne.
Ye dreary instruments of dolefull sight, 185
That doe this deadly spectacle behold,
Why do ye lenger feed on loathed light,
Or liking find to gaze on earthly mould,
Sith cruell fates the carefull threeds unfould,
The which my life and love together tyde? 190
Now let the stony dart of senselesse cold
Perce to my hart, and pas through every side,
And let eternall night so sad sight fro me hide.
O lightsome day, the lampe of highest Jove,
First made by him, mens wandring wayes to guyde, 195
When darkenesse he in deepest dongeon drove,
Henceforth thy hated face for ever hyde,
And shut up heavens windowes shyning wyde:
For earthly sight can nought but sorrow breed,
And late repentance, which shall long abyde. 200
Mine eyes no more on vanitie shall feed,
But seeled up with death,[*] shall have their deadly meed.
Then downe againe she fell unto the ground;
But he her quickly reared up againe:
Thrise did she sinke adowne in deadly swownd 205
And thrise he her reviv'd with busie paine,
At last when life recover'd had the raine,
And over-wrestled his strong enemie,
With foltring tong, and trembling every vaine,
Tell on (quoth she) the wofull Tragedie, 210
The which these reliques sad present unto mine eie.
Tempestuous fortune hath spent all her spight,
And thrilling sorrow throwne his utmost dart;
Thy sad tongue cannot tell more heavy plight,
Then that I feele, and harbour in mine hart: 215
Who hath endur'd the whole, can beare each part.
If death it be, it is not the first wound,
That launched hath my brest with bleeding smart.
Begin, and end the bitter balefull stound;[*]
If lesse then that I feare,[*] more favour I have found. 220
Then gan the Dwarfe the whole discourse declare,
The subtill traines of Archimago old;
The wanton loves of false Fidessa faire,
Bought with the blood of vanquisht Paynim bold;
The wretched payre transformed to treen mould; 225
The house of Pride, and perils round about;
The combat, which he with Sansjoy did hould;
The lucklesse conflict with the Gyant stout,
Wherein captiv'd, of life or death he stood in doubt.
She heard with patience all unto the end, 230
And strove to maister sorrowfull assay,[*]
Which greater grew, the more she did contend,
And almost rent her tender hart in tway;
And love fresh coles unto her fire did lay:
For greater love, the greater is the losse. 235
Was never Lady[*] loved dearer day,
Then she did love the knight of the Redcrosse;
For whose deare sake so many troubles her did tosse.
At last when fervent sorrow slaked was,
She up arose, resolving him to find 240
Alive or dead: and forward forth doth pas,
All as the Dwarfe the way to her assynd:
And evermore, in constant carefull mind,
She fed her wound with fresh renewed bale;
Long tost with stormes, and bet with bitter wind, 245
High over hills, and low adowne the dale,
She wandred many a wood, and measurd many a vale.
At last she chaunced by good hap to meet
A goodly knight,[*] faire marching by the way
Together with his Squire, arrayed meet: 250
His glitterand armour shined farre away,
Like glauncing light of Phoebus brightest ray;
From top to toe no place appeared bare,
That deadly dint of steele endanger may:
Athwart his brest a bauldrick brave he ware, 255
That shynd, like twinkling stars, with stons most pretious rare.
And in the midst thereof one pretious stone
Of wondrous worth, and eke of wondrous mights,
Shapt like a Ladies head,[*] exceeding shone,
Like Hesperus[*] emongst the lesser lights, 260
And strove for to amaze the weaker sights:
Thereby his mortall blade full comely hong
In yvory sheath, ycarv'd with curious slights;
Whose hilts were burnisht gold, and handle strong
Of mother pearle, and buckled with a golden tong. 265
His haughtie helmet, horrid all with gold,
Both glorious brightnesse, and great terrour bred;
For all the crest a Dragon[*] did enfold
With greedie pawes, and over all did spred
His golden wings: his dreadfull hideous hed 270
Close couched on the bever, seem'd to throw
From flaming mouth bright sparkles fierie red,
That suddeine horror to faint harts did show,
And scaly tayle was stretcht adowne his backe full low.
Upon the top of all his loftie crest, 275
A bunch of haires discolourd diversly,
With sprincled pearle, and gold full richly drest,
Did shake, and seemd to daunce for jollity,
Like to an Almond tree ymounted hye
On top of greene Selinis[*] all alone, 280
With blossoms brave bedecked daintily;
Whose tender locks do tremble every one
At every little breath that under heaven is blowne.
His warlike shield[*] all closely cover'd was,
Ne might of mortall eye be ever seene; 285
Not made of steele, nor of enduring bras,
Such earthly mettals soone consumed beene;
But all of Diamond perfect pure and cleene
It framed was, one massie entire mould,
Hewen out of Adamant rocke with engines keene, 290
That point of speare it never percen could,
Ne dint of direfull sword divide the substance would.
The same to wight he never wont disclose,
But when as monsters huge he would dismay,
Or daunt unequall armies of his foes, 295
Or when the flying heavens he would affray;
For so exceeding shone his glistring ray,
That Phoebus golden face it did attaint,
As when a cloud his beames doth over-lay;
And silver Cynthia[*] wexed pale and faint, 300
As when her face is staynd with magicke arts constraint.
No magicke arts hereof had any might,
Nor bloudie wordes of bold Enchaunters call;
But all that was not such as seemd in sight,[*]
Before that shield did fade, and suddeine fall; 305
And, when him list[*] the raskall routes appall,
Men into stones therewith he could transmew,
And stones to dust, and dust to nought at all;
And when him list the prouder lookes subdew,
He would them gazing blind, or turne to other hew. 310
Ne let it seeme, that credence this exceedes,
For he that made the same, was knowne right well
To have done much more admirable deedes.
It Merlin[*] was, which whylome did excell
All living wightes in might of magicke spell: 315
Both shield, and sword, and armour all he wrought
For this young Prince, when first to armes he fell;
But when he dyde, the Faerie Queene it brought
To Faerie lond, where yet it may be seene, if sought.
A gentle youth, his dearely loved Squire, 320
His speare of heben wood behind him bare,
Whose harmefull head, thrice heated in the fire,
Had riven many a brest with pikehead square:
A goodly person, and could menage faire
His stubborne steed with curbed canon bit, 325
Who under him did trample[*] as the aire,
And chauft, that any on his backe should sit;
The yron rowels into frothy fome he bit.
When as this knight nigh to the Ladie drew,
With lovely court he gan her entertaine; 330
But when he heard her answeres loth, he knew
Some secret sorrow did her heart distraine:
Which to allay, and calme her storming paine,
Faire feeling words he wisely gan display,
And for her humour[*] fitting purpose faine, 335
To tempt the cause it selfe for to bewray;
Wherewith emmov'd, these bleeding words she gan to say.
What worlds delight, or joy of living speach
Can heart, so plung'd in sea of sorrowes deep,
And heaped with so huge misfortunes, reach? 340
The carefull cold beginneth for to creepe,
And in my heart his yron arrow steepe,
Soone as I thinke upon my bitter bale:
Such helplesse harmes yts better hidden keepe,
Then rip up griefe, where it may not availe, 345
My last left comfort is, my woes to weepe and waile.
Ah Ladie deare, quoth then the gentle knight,
Well may I weene your griefe is wondrous great;
For wondrous great griefe groneth in my spright,
Whiles thus I heare you of your sorrowes treat. 350
But wofull Ladie, let me you intrete
For to unfold the anguish of your hart:
Mishaps are maistred by advice discrete,
And counsell mittigates the greatest smart;
Found[*] never helpe who never would his hurts impart. 355
O but (quoth she) great griefe will not be tould,[*]
And can more easily be thought then said.
Right so (quoth he), but he that never would,
Could never: will to might gives greatest aid.
But griefe (quoth she) does greater grow displaid, 360
If then it find not helpe, and breedes despaire.
Despaire breedes not (quoth he) where faith is staid.
No faith[*] so fast (quoth she) but flesh does paire.
Flesh may empaire (quoth he) but reason can repaire.
His goodly reason, and well guided speach, 365
So deepe did settle in her gracious thought,
That her perswaded to disclose the breach,
Which love and fortune in her heart had wrought,
And said; Faire Sir, I hope good hap hath brought
You to inquire the secrets of my griefe, 370
Or that your wisedome will direct my thought,
Or that your prowesse can me yield reliefe:
Then heare the storie sad, which I shall tell you briefe.
The forlorne Maiden, whom your eyes have seene
The laughing stocke of fortunes mockeries, 375
Am th' only daughter[*] of a King and Queene,
Whose parents deare, whilest equal destinies[*]
Did runne about, and their felicities
The favourable heavens did not envy,
Did spread their rule through all the territories, 380
Which Phison[*] and Euphrates floweth by,
And Gehons golden waves doe wash continually.
Till that their cruell cursed enemy,
An huge great Dragon horrible in sight,
Bred in the loathly lakes of Tartary,[*] 385
With murdrous ravine, and devouring might
Their kingdome spoild, and countrey wasted quight:
Themselves, for feare into his jawes to fall,
He forst to castle strong to take their flight,
Where fast embard in mighty brasen wall, 390
He has them now foure yeres besiegd to make them thrall.[*]
Full many knights adventurous and stout
Have enterpriz'd that Monster to subdew;
From every coast that heaven walks about,[*]
Have thither come the noble Martiall crew, 395
That famous hard atchievements still pursew;
Yet never any could that girlond win,
But all still shronke, and still he greater grew:
All they for want of faith, or guilt of sin,
The pitteous pray of his fierce crueltie have bin. 400
At last yledd with farre reported praise,
Which flying fame throughout the world had spred,
Of doughty knights, whom Faery land did raise,
That noble order[*] hight of Maidenhed,
Forthwith to court of Gloriane[*] I sped 405
Of Gloriane great Queene of glory bright,
Whose Kingdomes seat Cleopolis[*] is red,
There to obtaine some such redoubted knight,
The Parents deare from tyrants powre deliver might.
It was my chance (my chance was faire and good) 410
There for to find a fresh unproved knight,
Whose manly hands imbrew'd in guiltie blood
Had never bene, ne ever by his might
Had throwne to ground the unregarded right:
Yet of his prowesse proofe he since hath made 415
(I witnesse am) in many a cruell fight;
The groning ghosts of many one dismaide
Have felt the bitter dint of his avenging blade.
And ye the forlorne reliques of his powre,
His byting sword, and his devouring speare, 420
Which have endured many a dreadfull stowre,
Can speake his prowesse, that did earst you beare,
And well could rule: now he hath left you heare
To be the record of his ruefull losse,
And of my dolefull disaventurous deare:[*] 425
O heavie record of the good Redcrosse,
Where have you left your Lord, that could so well you tosse?
Well hoped I, and faire beginnings had,
That he my captive languor[*] should redeeme,
Till all unweeting, an Enchaunter bad 430
His sence abusd, and made him to misdeeme
My loyalty,[*] not such as it did seeme;
That rather death desire, then such despight.
Be judge ye heavens, that all things right esteeme,
How I him lov'd, and love with all my might, 435
So thought I eke of him, and thinke I thought aright.
Thenceforth me desolate he quite forsooke,
To wander, where wilde fortune would me lead,
And other bywaies he himselfe betooke,
Where never foot of living wight did tread, 440
That brought[*] not backe the balefull body dead;
In which him chaunced false Duessa meete,
Mine onely foe, mine onely deadly dread,
Who with her witchcraft, and misseeming sweete,
Inveigled him to follow her desires unmeete. 445
At last by subtill sleights she him betraid
Unto his foe, a Gyant huge and tall,
Who him disarmed, dissolute, dismaid,
Unwares surprised, and with mighty mall
The monster mercilesse him made to fall, 450
Whose fall did never foe before behold;
And now in darkesome dungeon, wretched thrall,
Remedilesse, for aie he doth him hold;
This is my cause of griefe, more great then may be told.
Ere she had ended all, she gan to faint: 455
But he her comforted and faire bespake,
Certes, Madame, ye have great cause of plaint,
The stoutest heart, I weene, could cause to quake.
But be of cheare, and comfort to you take:
For till I have acquit your captive knight, 460
Assure your selfe, I will you not forsake.
His chearefull wordes reviv'd her chearelesse spright,
So forth they went, the Dwarfe them guiding ever right.
I. _The Plot:_ (Continuation of Canto V). Duessa pursues the Redcross Knight, and overtakes him sitting by an enchanted fountain, weary and disarmed. He is beguiled into drinking from the fountain, and is quickly deprived of strength. In this unnerved and unarmed condition he is suddenly set upon by the giant Orgoglio. After a hopeless struggle he is struck down by the giant's club and is thrust into a dungeon. Una is informed by the dwarf of the Knight's misfortune and is prostrated with grief. Meeting Prince Arthur, she is persuaded to tell her story and receives promise of his assistance.
II. _The Allegory:_ 1. The Christian soldier, beguiled by Falsehood, doffs the armor of God, and indulges in sinful pleasures, and loses his purity. He then quickly falls into the power of Carnal Pride, or the brutal tyranny of False Religion (Orgoglio). He can then be restored only by an appeal to the Highest Honor or Magnificence (Prince Arthur) through the good offices of Truth and Common Sense.
2. In the reaction from the Reformation, Protestant England by dallying with Romanism (Duessa, Mary Queen of Scots) falls under the tyrannic power of the Pope (Orgoglio), with whom Catholic England was coquetting. At this juncture National Honor and Consciousness comes to the relief of Protestantism. There is personal compliment to either Lord Leicester or Sir Philip Sidney.
19. HE FEEDES UPON, he enjoys. A Latinism: cf. Vergil's _Aeneid_, iii.
37. PHOEBE, a surname of Diana, or Artemis, the goddess of the moon.
45. Spenser probably takes the suggestion from the fountain in the gardens of Armida in Tasso's _Jerusalem Delivered_, xiv, 74. Cf. also the fountain of Salmacis in Ovid's _Metamorphoses_, xv, 819 _seq_.
56. POURD OUT, a metaphor borrowed from Euripides (_Herac._, 75) and Vergil (_Aeneid_, ix, 317).
62. HIS LOOSER MAKE, his too dissolute companion.
67. AN HIDEOUS GEANT, Orgoglio, symbolizing Inordinate Pride, and the Pope of Rome, who then claimed universal power over both church and state (x). For a list of many other giants of romance see Brewer's _Handbook_, pp. 376-379.
104. THAT DIVELISH YRON ENGIN, cannon. The invention of artillery by infernal ingenuity is an old conception of the poets. There is a suggestion of it in Vergil's _Aeneid_, vi, 585 _seq._, which is elaborated in Ariosto's _Orlando Furioso_, ix, 91, which Milton in turn imitated in _Paradise Lost_, vi, 516 _seq_. So in the romance of _Sir Triamour_.
112. TH' ONELY BREATH, the mere breath.
119. DO HIM NOT TO DYE, slay him not; cf. "done to death."
138. A MONSTROUS BEAST, on which the woman of Babylon sat; _Revelation_, xiii and xvii, 7.
139. This refers to the Romish policy of fostering ignorance among its members.
140. THAT RENOWMED SNAKE, the Lernaean Hydra, a monster with nine or more heads, offspring of Typhon and Echidna. It was slain by Hercules. STREMONA is a name of Spenser's own invention.
147. The reference is to the cruelty and insensibility of the Romish Church.
150. Its tail reached to the stars. _Revelation_, xii, 4.
155. AND HOLY HEASTS FORETAUGHT, and holy commands previously taught (them).
161. HIS FORLORNE WEED, his abandoned clothing.
165. MONIMENTS, the sorrowful, mournful relics.
182. SO HARDLY HE, etc. So he with difficulty coaxes the life which has flown to return into her body. According to the Platonic teaching, the body is the prison-house of the soul. Cf _Psalms_, cxlii, 7.
202. BUT SEELED UP WITH DEATH, but closed in death. "Seel" was a term in falconry, meaning "to sew up" (the eyes of the hawk).
219. THE BITTER BALEFULL STOUND, the bitter, grievous moment during which she listens to the story.
220. IF LESSE THEN THAT I FEARE, etc., if it is less bitter than I fear it is, I shall have found more favor (been more fortunate) than I expected.
231. SORROWFULL ASSAY, the assault of sorrow (on her heart).
236. WAS NEVER LADY, etc., there never was lady who loved day (life) dearer.
249. A GOODLY KNIGHT. Prince Arthur, son of King Uther Pendragon and Queen Ygerne, the model English gentleman, in whom all the virtues are perfected (Magnificence). According to Upton and most editors, Prince Arthur represents Lord Leicester; according to another tradition, Sir Philip Sidney. Could the author have possibly intended in him compliment to Sir Walter Raleigh? See Spenser's _Letter to Raleigh_. Arthur is the beau ideal of knighthood, and upon him the poet lavishes his richest descriptive powers. His armor, his shield Pridwen, his lance Roan, and sword Exculibur, were made by the great enchanter Merlin in the isle of Avallon.
259. SHAPT LIKE A LADIES HEAD, an effigy of Queen Elizabeth, the Faerie Queene.
260. LIKE HESPERUS, the evening star. Cf. Phosphorus, the morning star.
268. The dragon couchant was also the crest of Arthur's father, Uther, surnamed on this account Pen-dragon. The description in this stanza is imitated from Tasso's description of the helmet of the Sultan in _Jerusalem Delivered_, ix, 25, which in turn follows Vergil's _Aeneid_, vii, 785 _seq._
280. GREENE SELINIS, a town in Sicily.
284. HIS WARLIKE SHIELD. Spenser here follows closely the description of the shield of the magician Atlante in Ariosto's _Orlando Furioso_, ii, 55.
300. SILVER CYNTHIA, the moon. It was popularly supposed that magicians and witches had power to cause eclipses of the moon.
304. All falsehood and deception. Truth and Wisdom are symbolized (Upton).
306. WHEN HIM LIST, when it pleased him. _Him_ is dative.
314. IT MERLIN WAS. Ambrose Merlin, the prince of enchanters, son of the nun Matilda, and an incubus, "half-angel and half-man." He made, in addition to Prince Arthur's armor and weapons, the Round Table for one hundred and fifty knights at Carduel, the magic fountain of love, and built Stonehenge on Salisbury Plain. He died spellbound by the sorceress Vivien in a hollow oak. See Tennyson's _Idylls of the King_.
326. DID TRAMPLE AS THE AIRE, curveted as lightly as the air.
335. AND FOR HER HUMOUR, etc., and to suit her (sad) mood framed fitting conversation.
355. The subject of _found_ is the substantive clause _who... impart_.
xli. Observe the antithetical structure of this stanza, both in the _Stichomuthia_, or balance of line against line, and in the lines themselves. In this rapid word-play Arthur wins his point by appealing to Una's faith.
363. NO FAITH SO FAST, etc., no faith is so firm that human infirmity may not injure it.
376. Una, Truth, is the sole daughter of Eden.
377. WHILEST EQUAL DESTINIES, etc., whilst their destinies (Fates) revolved equally and undisturbed in their orbits. (Astronomical figure.)
381. PHISON AND EUPHRATES, etc., three of the four rivers that watered Eden, the Hiddekel being omitted. See _Genesis_, ii, 11-14. In this stanza the poet strangely mixes Christian doctrine and the classical belief in the envy of the gods working the downfall of men.
385. TARTARY, Tartarus (for the rhyme), the lowest circle of torment in the infernal regions.
391. Has this obscure line any reference to prophecy? Cf. _Daniel_, vii, 25, _Revelation_, xii, 6, 14.
394. THAT HEAVEN WALKS ABOUT, under the sky.
404. THAT NOBLE ORDER, the Order of the Garter, of which the Maiden Queen was head. The figure of St. George slaying the dragon appears on the oval and pendant to the collar of this Order.
405. OF GLORIANE, Queen Elizabeth.
407. CLEOPOLIS IS RED, is called Cleopolis, i.e. the city of Glory, or London.
425. MY DOLEFULL DISADVENTUROUS DEARE, my sad misadventurous injury.
429. THAT HE MY CAPTIVE LANGUOR, the languishing captivity of my parents.
432. MY LOYALTY, i.e. the loyalty of me that rather death desire, etc.
441. THAT BROUGHT NOT BACKE, etc., (and whence) the body full of evil was not brought back dead.
QUESTIONS AND TOPICS
1. Relate how the Knight fell into the hands of the Giant. 2. Note the fine adaptation of sound to sense in vii. 3. Who were the parents and the foster-father of Orgoglio? 4. What are the principal characteristics of the giants of romance as seen in Orgoglio? cf. with the giants in _Pilgrim's Progress_. 5. In the description of the giant do the last two lines (viii) add to or detract from the impression? Why? 6. To whom does Spenser ascribe the invention of artillery? 7. Explain the allegory involved in the relations of Duessa and Orgoglio. 8. How does Una act on hearing the news of the Knight's capture? 9. What part does the Dwarf play? 10. Is Una just to herself in ll. 200-201? 11. Is she over sentimental or ineffective--and is the pathos of her grief kept within the limits of the reader's pleasure? 12. Express in your own words the main thought in xxii. 13. Note the skillful summary of events in xxvi, and observe that this stanza is the _Central Crisis_ and _Pivotal Point_ of the whole Book. The fortunes of the Knight reach their lowest ebb and begin to turn. The first half of the Book has been the _complication_ of the plot, the second half will be the _resolution_. 14. Give a description of Prince Arthur. 15. What mysterious power was possessed by his shield? Cf. the Holy Grail. 16. Observe carefully the scene between Una and Arthur, noting the changes in her mood. What light is thrown on her character? What are her feelings toward the Knight? 17. Explain the various threads of allegory in this Canto.
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Edmund Spenser's poem: The Faerie Queene, Book I, Canto 7