To all the gratious and beautifull Ladies in Of each a part I stole by cunning thefte:
Forgive it me, faire Dames, sith lesse ye have
not lefte.
E. S

THE FIRST BOOK

OF

THE FAERIE QUEENE

CONTAYNING THE LEGEND OF THE KNIGHT OF THE RED CROSSE, OR OF HOLINESSE.

To thinke of that true glorious type of thine, The argument of mine afflicted stile: O, helpe thou my weake wit, and sharpen my The which to heare vouchsafe, O dearest dread, 'dull tong!

CANTO I.

The Patrone of true Holinesse
Foule Errour doth defeate:
Hypocrisie, him to entrappe,
Doth to his home entreate.

Eftsoones dismounted from his courser brave, And to the Dwarfe a while his needlesse spere he gave.

XII

Ay wont in desert darknes to remaine,
Where plain none might her see, nor she see
any plaine.

XVII

'Be well aware,' quoth then that Ladie milde, Which when the valiant Elfe perceiv'd, he lept 'Least suddaine mischiefe ye too rash provoke: As Lyon fierce upon the flying pray, The danger hid, the place unknowne and wilde, And with his trenchand blade her boldly kept Breedes dreadfull doubts. Oft fire is without From turning backe, and forced her to stay: smoke, Therewith enrag'd she loudly gan to bray, And perill without show: therefore your stroke, And turning fierce her speckled taile advaunst, Sir Knight, with-hold, till further tryall made.' Threatning her angrie sting, him to dismay; 'Ah Ladie,' (sayd he) 'shame were to revoke Who, nought aghast, his mightie hand enThe forward footing for an hidden shade: haunst: [der glaunst.

Vertue gives her selfe light through darknesse The stroke down from her head unto her shoulfor to wade.'

XIII

XVIII

Much daunted with that dint her sence was

dazd;

'Yea but' (quoth she) 'the perill of this place
I better wot then you: though nowe too late
To wish you backe returne with foule disgrace, Yet kindling rage her selfe she gathered round,
Yet wisedome warnes, whilest foot is in the gate, With doubled forces high above the ground:
And all attonce her beastly bodie raizd
To stay the steppe, ere forced to retrate.
This is the wandring wood, this Errours den, Tho, wrapping up her wrethed sterne arownd,
A monster vile, whom God and man does hate: Lept fierce upon his shield, and her huge traine
Therefore I read beware.' 'Fly, fly!' (quoth then All suddenly about his body wound,
The fearefull Dwarfe) ' this is no place for living

men.'

XIV

But, full of fire and greedy hardiment,
The youthfull Knight could not for ought be
But forth unto the darksom hole he went,[staide;
And looked in: his glistring armor made
A litle glooming light, much like a shade;
By which he saw the ugly monster plaine,
Halfe like a serpent horribly displaide,
But th'other halfe did womans shape retaine,
Most lothsom, filthie, foule, and full of vile
disdaine.

XV

That hand or foot to stirr he strove in vaine. God helpe the man so wrapt in Errours endlesse traine!

XIX

His Lady, sad to see his sore constraint, Cride out, 'Now, now, Sir knight, shew what ye bee;

Add faith unto your force, and be not faint;
Strangle her, els she sure will strangle thee.'
That when he heard, in great perplexitie,
His gall did grate for griefe and high disdaine;
And, knitting all his force, got one hand free,
Wherewith he grypt her gorge with so great
paine,
[constraine.

That soone to loose her wicked bands did her

A

XX

Therewith she spewd out of her filthie maw floud of poyson horrible and blacke, Full of great lumps of flesh and gobbets raw, Which stunck so vildly, that it forst him slacke

And, as she lay upon the durtie ground,
Her huge long taile her den all overspred,
Yet was in knots and many boughtes upwound,
Pointed with mortall sting. Of her there bred
A thousand yong ones, which she dayly fed,
Sucking upon her poisnous dugs; each one
Of sundrie shapes, yet all ill-favored:
[backe.
Soone as that uncouth light upon them shone, His grasping hold, and from her turne him
Into her mouth they crept, and suddain all were Her vomit full of bookes and papers was,

gone.

XVI

Their dam upstart out of her den effraide,
And rushed forth, hurling her hideous taile
About her cursed head; whose folds displaid
Were stretcht now forth at length without en-
traile.

She lookt about, and seeing one in mayle,
Armed to point, sought backe to turne againe;
For light she hated as the deadly bale,

With loathly frogs and toades, which eyes did

lacke,

And creeping sought way in the weedy gras:
Her filthie parbreake all the place defiled has.

XXI

As when old father Nilus gins to swell With timely pride above the Aegyptian vale. His fattie waves doe fertile slime outwell, And overflow each plaine and lowly dale: