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OLD TALES RETOLD FOR YOUNG READERS 
 
Uniform with this volume 
 
 CANTERBURY TALES (Selections) 
 
 Retold by Calvin Dill Wilson 
 Decorated by Ralph Fletcher Seymour 
 
 $1.00 net 
 
 A. C. McCLURG & CO., Publishers 
 CHICAGO 
 
Copyright 
 
 A. C. McClurg & Co. 
 
 1906 
 
 Published October 6, 1906 
 
 
 UOKARY of congress] 
 
 Two OOIMC* 
 
 it!CCiVCO 
 
 OCT 20 
 
 1906 
 
 Cooy firn^ F.nxry 
 CLASS CL ^«- No. 
 
 5rf)t Uakejsttje ^rtsf 
 
 R. R. DONNELLEY & SONS COMPANY 
 CHICAGO 
 
MnBtrxbth 
 Julian BmxB 
 
FOREWORD 
 
 <4nnHE FAERY QUEEN," by Edmund 
 X Spenser, who was born in London in 
 1552, is one of the most splendid long poems 
 in the English language. It is also a wonder- 
 fully interesting story-book, containing all 
 sorts of adventures. But not many children 
 are likely to read this long poem in its original 
 form. I have therefore taken the first story 
 and told it in prose, that young readers may 
 have the tale in such shape as may please 
 them. It would have gratified me to tell the 
 whole set of tales in this way, but this course 
 would have made a larger book than you 
 would care for, perhaps. 
 
 The author of this poem intended that it 
 should be understood as an allegory, that is, a 
 story with a double meaning. His knights 
 and ladies, and their adventures, are meant to 
 be images of human life. But as young people 
 are usually interested more in a story than in 
 its meaning, vje have not given an explanation 
 of the allegory, believing that the story in 
 itself is sufficiently pleasing, and that readers 
 can find out something of the meaning without 
 help. 
 
The book introduces us to the world of the 
 fairies. We meet here the great queen Glor- 
 iana, who reigned over Fairyland ; we meet 
 here St. George and the Dragon. All our 
 lives long we shall find in our reading refer- 
 ences to the famous scenes and people told of 
 in this book. So we hope you may like the 
 tale. 
 
 C. D. W, 
 
 Glendale, Ohio, July x, 1906. 
 
 .V, 
 
 V 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Chapter 1 3 
 
 Chapter II. 9 
 
 Chapter III 25 
 
 Chapter IV. ..... 39 
 
 Chapter V 53 
 
 Chapter VI 65 
 
 Chapter VII 77 
 
 Chapter VIII 91 
 
 Chapter IX 103 
 
 Chapter X 117 
 
 Chapter XI i33 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 GLORIANA, THE FAIRY QUEEN. — HER 
 YEARLY FEAST.— THE AWKWARD YOUTH 
 AND HIS REQUEST. — THE LADY WHOSE 
 PARENTS WERE SHUT UP BY A DRAGON. 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 NCE upon a time the great 
 Gloriana ruled as the Fairy 
 Queen, and not only were 
 the little fairies subject to 
 her commands but many 
 strong and great knights 
 also obeyed her. And these 
 were sent forth by her 
 endowed with magical powers, so that they 
 were able to do what no other knights 
 could perform. 
 
 It was the custom of this Queen to hold 
 a festival every year for twelve days, dur- 
 ing which the. time was spent in feasting 
 and merrymaking, and at such seasons all 
 the lords and ladies of her kingdom 
 gathered together at her court. At a cer- 
 tain time the great Gloriana was keeping 
 this her yearly feast, when in the beginning 
 of the festival there cam.e in a tall but 
 clownish young man. He at once presented 
 [3] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN ; 
 
 himself before the Queen of Fairies, and de- 
 sired a favor at her hands. It was the cus- 
 tom then that during the feast she could 
 not refuse a request that was in itself fair 
 and right. 
 
 And what do you think this youth asked 
 for himself? Was it money or power? No, 
 it was such a thing as in those days brave 
 men considered to be the greatest privilege 
 they could obtain. He requested that he 
 might have the chance to perform a brave 
 deed. He wished that he might be chosen 
 for the accomplishment of the first advent- 
 ure that might happen during that feast. 
 This youth seemed to the Queen to be but 
 a raw and awkward young man, and by no 
 means the most promising of the men pres- 
 ent to whom to give such an opportunity, 
 but she could not refuse. Therefore she 
 granted his desire. 
 
 This youth was much gratified by her 
 reply, and then rested himself upon the 
 floor, since he on account of his rude 
 appearance did not seem to be suited for 
 any better place. 
 
 Soon afterward, there entered a fair 
 
 Lady, dressed in black garments, riding 
 
 upon a white ass. Behind her came a 
 
 Dwarf leading a warlike steed, that bore 
 
 [4] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 the arms of a knight, and his spear was in 
 the Dwarf's hands. This Lady, falling be- 
 fore the Queen of Fairies, complained that 
 her father and mother, who were an ancient 
 king and queen, had been shut up for many 
 years in their brazen castle, by a huge 
 Dragon that lay before their gates and 
 would allow no one to enter in nor to come 
 out of that palace. She said that many 
 knights had come from various parts of the 
 world to slay the Dragon, but they had all 
 failed and lost their lives. They had been 
 attracted thither by the desire to do a great 
 deed, and also by the reward which her fa- 
 ther offered, for he had proclaimed through- 
 out the world that he would make the man 
 who would kill the monster heir to his king- 
 dom, and he would give him the hand of his 
 daughter, Una, who was this Lady herself. 
 
 She said that since so many men had 
 failed in this attempt she had now come to 
 the Queen of the Fairies, having learned 
 that her knights were much abler to per- 
 form wonderful deeds than were any other 
 men. She therefore asked Gloriana to 
 appoint one of her knights to take upon 
 himself the adventure of setting her parents 
 free by slaying the Dragon. 
 
 The awkward youth, who had received 
 [5] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 Gloriana's promise that he should have the 
 privilege of the first adventure that offered, 
 heard this conversation, and at once started 
 up, desiring that he might undertake this 
 deed. Whereat the Queen wondered much 
 and the Lady hesitated, seeing his youth 
 and awkwardness; but he earnestly urged 
 his request. In the end, the Lady told him 
 that unless the armor which her Dwarf had 
 borne thither, upon the riderless steed, 
 would perfectly fit him, he could not suc- 
 ceed in the enterprise. 
 
 When the armor was tried upon the 
 youth, it was found to be as if it had been 
 made for. him. And when his form was 
 covered with that noble mail he seemed to 
 be the goodliest man in all that company, 
 and as the Lady looked upon him thus 
 changed she liked him well, and her heart 
 went out to him. Then this youth, whose 
 name was George, took the oath of knight- 
 hood, and mounting upon that strange 
 courser, he went forth with the Lady Una 
 upon that adventure. But before he went 
 away George promised the Queen that if 
 he should succeed in killing the Dragon, he 
 would return to her court and enter for six 
 years as a knight into her wars with the 
 heathens. 
 
 [6] 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE REDCROSS KNIGHT AND UNA ON 
 THEIR JOURNEY.— THEY ENTER THE WAN- 
 DERING WOOD. — ERROR^S DEN. — GEORGE 
 SLAYS A DREADFUL BEAST. — THEY LODGE 
 AT NIGHT WITH AN OLD W^AN WHO 
 PROVES TO BE A MAGICIAN. -^^VhE MAGI- 
 CIAN AI^mMAGa DECEIVES THE KNIGHT 
 BY A DREAM. — GEORGE BELIEVES UNA TO 
 BE A WICKED WOMAN. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 fND now we see this gentle 
 Knight George, clad in 
 mighty arms and carrying 
 a silver shield, riding across 
 a plain. On his buckler 
 were old dents of hard 
 blows, the marks of many 
 a bloody fight, though we 
 know that this Knight had never carried 
 arms before. His armor, however, had been 
 worn by other warriors, and it had been 
 proved to be the best. His angry steed 
 champed its foaming bit, as disdaining to 
 yield to the curb. Very fair did this Knight 
 seem, and he sat his horse firmly, as one 
 suited for knightly jousts and fierce en- 
 counters. 
 
 On his breast he wore a bloody cross, as 
 
 a sign of his remembrance of his dying 
 
 Lord, for whose sweet sake he wore that 
 
 glorious badge. A cross was also scored 
 
 [9] ,. 
 
 ■I 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 upon his shield, for he had his chief hope in 
 the help of Christ; and for this reason he 
 came to be called George, the Redcross 
 Knight. As he rode his countenance 
 seemed too sad, yet it was not so through 
 fear, for he dreaded nothing, but was rather 
 feared by others. 
 
 During his journey thus far, he had come 
 to admire and love greatly the Lady Una, 
 and he desired above all things to win 
 honor and have her favor. His heart was 
 also filled with yearning to prove his power 
 in brave battle upon his foe, that horrible 
 and stern Dragon that imprisoned the par- 
 ents of his Lady. 
 
 The lovely Lady Una rode fairly beside 
 him, upon a lowly ass that was whiter than 
 snow, and yet not so white as she; but she 
 hid her beauty under a veil that was folded 
 low, and over all she had thrown a black 
 cloak. She looked sad as one that inwardly 
 mourned, and she sat heavily upon her slow 
 palfrey. She seemed to have in her heart 
 some hidden care. And by her side she led 
 with a line a milk-white lamb, and she was 
 as pure and innocent in her life as that same 
 lamb. 
 
 Behind her, far away, lagged her Dwarf, 
 who seemed lazy, being always last, and 
 
 [10] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 being wearied with bearing her bag of 
 goods at his back. 
 
 As they rode on, the day was suddenly 
 overcast with clouds, and an angry, hideous 
 storm of rain was poured down fast upon 
 the earth, so that every one was constrained 
 to hurry to cover; and this fair couple also 
 were fain to shelter themselves. 
 
 Driven to seek some hiding place near at 
 hand from the storm, they spied a shady 
 grove not far away that promised them 
 help to withstand the tempest. There lofty 
 trees, clad with leaves, the pride of summer, 
 spread so broad that they hid heaven's light 
 and could not be pierced by the power of 
 any star. Within were paths and wide 
 alleys with worn footpaths that led far in- 
 ward. These promised a fair haven ; so they 
 entered. 
 
 With pleasure they went forward, re- 
 joicing to hear the birds' sweet harmony, 
 which, there protected from the dread tem- 
 pest, seemed in their song to scorn the cruel 
 sky. Much they praised the straight high 
 trees, the soaring pine, the proud, tall cedar, 
 the vine-prop elm, the green poplar, the 
 oak that is king of the forests, the aspen 
 good for staves, the funeral cypress, the 
 laurel, the reward of conquerors and sage 
 [II] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 poets, the weeping fir, the willow worn by 
 forlorn lovers, the yew, the birch, the sallow, 
 the myrrh, the beech, the ash, the olive, the 
 plane tree, the holme and the maple. 
 
 Led with delight, they beguiled their ride 
 with listening to the birds and looking upon 
 the trees, until the blustering storm was 
 blown over. When wishing to return to the 
 open again, they could not find the path, but 
 wandered back and forth in unknown ways. 
 When they thought themselves nearest, 
 they were farthest from the right way, so 
 ^vj that they began to doubt if they had not 
 -^ lost their wits. They saw so many paths, 
 with so many turnings, that they were in 
 doubt which one to take. 
 
 At last they resolved to ride forward 
 until they could find some way in or out, 
 and they took the path that seemed most 
 beaten and most likely to lead out of the 
 labyrinth. When they had hunted over all 
 this, it at length brought them to a hollow 
 cave amid the thickest woods. The stout 
 Knight at once dismounted from his brave 
 courser, and gave his spear to the Dwarf. 
 
 Then the mild Lady said, ** Beware lest 
 you stir up sudden mischief. There may be 
 hidden danger, for this place is unknown 
 and wild. Often there is fire without smoke, 
 
 [12] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 and peril without signs of it. Therefore, 
 Sir Knight, wait till you have made further 
 trial." 
 
 "Ah, Lady," said he, "it would be shame- 
 ful to cease to go forward because of hidden 
 shadows. Virtue gives herself light to 
 wade through darkness." 
 
 "Yes, but," said she, "I know the peril of 
 this place better than do you. Though you 
 think it is now too late to return back with- 
 out disgrace to you as a Knight, yet wis- 
 dom warns you, while you are at the en- 
 trance to the cave, to stay your steps be- 
 fore you are forced to retreat, for this is 
 the Wandering Wood, and this is Error's 
 Den, a vile monster who is hated by God 
 and man. Therefore, I say, beware," 
 
 "Fly, fly," said the timid Dwarf, "this is 
 no place for living men." 
 
 But the youthful Knight was so full of 
 fire and courage that he could not be 
 stopped, but went forth into the dark hole 
 and looked in. His glistening armor made 
 a little gloomy light, by which he saw 
 plainly the ugly monster, that was half like 
 a serpent and the other half had a woman's 
 shape, and all was most loathsome, filthy, 
 and foul. And as she lay upon the ground, 
 her huge, long tail spread over all her den, 
 [13] 
 
 a 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 yet was wound up in knots and many folds, 
 and pointed with a deadly sting. 
 
 The monster started up frightened, and 
 rushed forth, hurling her hideous tail about 
 her cursed head. Its folds were now 
 stretched forth at length without twistings. 
 She looked about, and seeing a man armed 
 in iron mail sought to turn back again, for 
 she hated light as a deadly thing. 
 
 Which when the valiant knight saw, he 
 leaped as fiercely as a lion upon his fleeing 
 foe, and with his sharp sword he boldly 
 kept her from turning back, and forced her 
 to stay. Enraged at this, she began to roar 
 loudly, and fiercely turning, thrust forward 
 her speckled tail, threatening her angry 
 sting to dismay him. But he, nothing terri- 
 fied, raised up his mighty hand, and the 
 stroke of his sword glanced from her head 
 to her shoulder. 
 
 Her senses were dazed with that blow, 
 yet her rage kindled, and she gathered her- 
 self up and all at once raised her beastly 
 body high above the ground. Then she 
 leaped fierce upon his shield, and suddenly 
 wound her huge length around his body, so 
 that he tried in vain to stir hand or foot. 
 His Lady, sad at seeing his sore plight, 
 cried, "Now, now. Sir Knight, show what 
 [14] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 you are. Add faith to your force, and be 
 not faint. Strangle her, or she surely will 
 strangle you." - 
 
 When he heard this, he was in great per- 
 plexity, and was filled with grief and dis- 
 dain. Then striving with all his force he 
 got one hand free, and with this he gripped 
 her throat with such a strength that soon 
 he compelled her to loose her wicked bands. 
 Then she cast forth from her foul mouth a 
 horrible poison, which smelled so vilely 
 that it forced him to slacken his hold and to 
 turn away from her. The Knight was well 
 nigh choked by the deadly smell, so that 
 he could not fight for a moment. 
 
 The Knight at last feeling more the 
 shame than the peril of his plight, came 
 furiously upon his foe, resolved to win sud- 
 denly or quickly to lose before he would 
 give up the battle. He then struck at her 
 with more than human force, so that he 
 hewed her hateful head from her body. 
 Then a stream of coal-black blood gushed 
 from her corpse. 
 
 His Lady seeing from afar all that had 
 happened, approached in haste to praise his 
 victory, and said, "Fair Knight, born under 
 a happy star, who now see your vanquished 
 foe lie before you, you are well worthy of 
 [15] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 that armor wherein you have won great 
 glory this day and proved your strength on 
 a strong enemy in your first adventure. 
 Many such adventures I pray for you, and 
 ever wish that they may succeed like this 
 one." 
 
 Then he mounted upon his steed again 
 and sought to go thence with his Lady. He 
 kept that path which was most beaten, nor 
 would go aside to any byway, and by fol- 
 lowing this path to the end it at last 
 brought them out of the wood. So forward 
 on his way, with God as his friend, he 
 passed forth and sought new adventures. 
 But he travelled a long way before any- 
 thing more happened to him. 
 
 At length they chanced to meet upon the 
 way an aged man, who was clad in long 
 black clothes, with bare feet, and with 
 beard hoary gray. He had his book hang- 
 ing by his belt, and seemed sober and sad 
 as a sage. His eyes were bent low upon the 
 ground, and he seemed to be a simple man, 
 without any malice. As he went he prayed 
 all the way, and often knocked upon his 
 breast as one that repented of his sins. 
 
 He greeted the Knight fairly , bowing 
 
 low, and he as a courteous man returned 
 
 the salute, and afterward asked him if he 
 
 [i6] 
 
 / 
 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 knew of any strange adventures that had 
 been taking^ place. **Ah, my dear," said he, 
 ** how should a silly old man, who lives in 
 a hidden cell, counting his beads all day for 
 his sins, know tidings of wars and worldly 
 troubles? It does not fit a holy father to 
 meddle with such things. But if you de- 
 sire to hear of danger near at home, I can 
 tell you tidings of a strange man that 
 wastes this country far and near.' 
 
 "Of such/' said the Knight, "I chiefly in- 
 quire, and shall reward you well to show 
 the place in which that wicked wight 
 spends his days. For to all knighthood it is 
 a foul disgrace that such a cursed creature 
 lives so long." 
 
 **His dwelling," said he, "is far hence, in 
 a vast wilderness, where no living man may 
 ever pass without great sorrows." 
 
 "Now," said the Lady, "it draws toward 
 night, and well I know that you are wearied 
 by your great toil. For who is so strong 
 but lacking rest he will also lack strength? 
 Then with the Sun take your timely rest, 
 and with the new day begin at once new 
 work. An untroubled night, they say gives 
 best counsel." 
 
 "Right well, Sir Knight, you are 
 advised," said then that aged man. "Now 
 [17] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 the day is spent. Therefore with me you 
 may take up your lodging for this night.'* 
 
 The Knight was well content, so they 
 went with that godly father to his home. 
 It was a little lowly hermitage, down in a 
 dale, close to the side of a forest, far from 
 the road where people passed to and fro in 
 travel. Near it there was built a holy 
 chapel, wherein the hermit was used to say 
 his holy prayers, each morning and evening. 
 There a crystal stream gently played, which 
 welled forth from a sacred fountain. 
 
 When they had arrived, they filled the 
 little house, it was so small, nor did they 
 look for fine entertainment where it could 
 not be given. Rest was their feast, and 
 doing as they wished. The noblest mind 
 has the best contentment. They passed the 
 evening with pleasant discourse; for that 
 old man had a store of pleasing words, and 
 could file his tongue as smooth as glass. 
 He told of Saints and Popes, and strewed 
 his prayers through his talk. 
 
 The drooping night crept fast upon them. 
 Their eyelids grew heavy, bidding them to 
 sleep. The old man then led them to their 
 couches, and when he saw them lost in 
 sleep he went to his study. There amid 
 books of magic and various arts, he sought 
 [i8] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 out mighty charms to trouble sleepy minds. 
 By his horrible spells he called up hundreds 
 of Sprites, which fluttered about his head 
 like little flies waiting to do whatever ser- 
 vice he bade them, to assist his friends or 
 slay his enemies. Of these he chose out a 
 pair, the falsest ones and fittest to forge 
 lies that seemed true. To one of these he 
 gave a message to bear for him, and the 
 other stayed by his side to do other work. 
 The one sped through the air, and 
 through the ocean, and hastily repaired to 
 the house of Morpheus, the god of sleep. 
 His dwelling is in the bowels of the earth, 
 where the dawning day never peeps. There 
 he found the double gates locked fast; the 
 one was framed of burnished ivory, and the 
 other all covered with silver. Before them 
 lay wakeful dogs watching to banish Care, 
 which is wont to trouble gentle sleep. The 
 Sprite passed quietly by these, and came to 
 Morpheus, whom he found drowned in 
 drowsiness; for he takes no care for any- 
 thing. To lull Morpheus in his soft 
 slumber, there is there a trickling stream 
 that tumbles down from a high rock. Rain 
 always drizzles on the roof, mixed with a 
 murmuring wind, much like the sound of 
 bees. No other noise, nor the troublous 
 [19] 
 
( 
 
 THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 cries of people might there be heard. There 
 careless Quiet lies wrapped in eternal 
 silence, far from foes. 
 
 This Messenger, approaching, spoke to 
 him, but his words were wasted ; he slept so 
 sound that nothing could awaken him. 
 Then he struck him rudely, causing him 
 pain, whereat he began to stretch himself. 
 He again shook him so hard that he forced 
 him to speak, and he mumbled softly as one 
 in a dream. The Sprite then began more 
 boldly to awaken him, and threatened him 
 with the dreadful name of Hecate. At this 
 he began to quake, and lifting up his lump- 
 ish head half angrily asked him for what he 
 came. ^ . ^., 
 
 "I was sent here/' said the Sprite, by 
 Archimago, he that can tame stubborn 
 Sprites. He bids you to send him a false 
 dream that can deceive sleepers.'' 
 
 This command Morpheus obeyed, and 
 calling forth at once a Dream out of his 
 dark prison, delivered it to him, and then 
 again laid down his heavy head, whose 
 senses were at once benumbed. 
 
 The Sprite, returning by the ivory door, 
 remounted to the air cheerful as a lark, and 
 bore the Dream upon his little wmgs m 
 haste to his master. 
 
 [20] 
 
E^ 
 
 i 
 
 THE FAERY QUEEN VS) / 
 
 This old man, who was really the great ^]M 
 magician Archimago, meanwhile had made t^U 
 a Lady of the other Sprite, and framed her l^^W 
 of air, so beautiful and so like Una that ^!y^ 
 Archimago himself was almost deceived at W)/\ 
 the sight. He clad her all in white and cast 5S:^r 
 over her a black garment like that of Una. ]/ ^ 
 Then he sent that idle Dream to the Knight ff^^ 
 where he slept soundly, void of evil thought, uj^^ 
 And when he dreamed awhile he awoke and ^ & 
 found this Sprite in his room. And then L^V/- 
 that evil Sprite told him that Una, who he ^<j)H 
 thought was speaking to him, was a wicked [> ^^ \ 
 woman, and unworthy of his devotion and t^-^^h 
 his service. fC*^W 
 
 He was much dismayed at this strange w(L 
 news, but he could not doubt since it ^"^^ 
 seemed to be Una herself who spoke. And KWA7 
 when she was gone, he lay a long time t^^/^^^ 
 musing and much grieved that this gentle fy^fsip 
 dame was an evil person, for whose de- y''^^^^ 
 fence he was to shed his blood. At last, ^^ 
 dull with weariness from his fight, he fell 
 asleep, but troublous dreams still tossed 
 his brain. 
 
 \ 
 
CHAPTER IIL 
 
 THE REDCROSS KNIGHT, BELIEVING UNA 
 TO BE WICKED, FORSAKES HER. — UNA 
 GOES IN SEARCH OF HER KNIGHT. — ARCHI- 
 MAGO DISGUISES HIMSELF AS THE RED- 
 CROSS KNIGHT. — THE REAL ST. GEORGE 
 FIGHTS WITH THE SARACEN SANSFOY.— 
 A FALSE WITCH |)UESSA) DECEIVES ST. 
 GEORGE.— THE MAN AND WOMAN WHO 
 WERE CHANGED INTO TREES. 
 
AW 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 HEN the cheerful Chanti- 
 cleer with his shrill note 
 had warned them once that 
 the Sun's fiery car was has- 
 tily climbing the eastern 
 hill, the Knight was awak- 
 ened from troubled sleep. 
 He had great torment in 
 his bed and bitter anguish at the thought 
 of what he believed the Lady Una 4iad said 
 to him. He could no longer rest; life 
 seemed irksome. And when the light 
 dawned, up he rose and hastily clad himself. 
 Then he ordered the Dwarf to bring his 
 steed, and away they both fled. 
 
 When the fair rosy morning had spread 
 her robe through the dewy air and the 
 high hills were shining with the light, the 
 royal virgin, Una, shook off drowsiness, and. 
 rising from her bower, looked for her 
 Knight, but he had fled far away. Then she 
 [25] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 searched for her Dwarf, but he, too, was 
 gone. And then she began to wail and weep 
 at her peril. Mounting her palfrey, she 
 rode after him, with as much speed as her 
 slow beast could make. But it was all in 
 vain, for the Knight's light-footed steed 
 had borne him so far, spurred by this angry 
 and disdainful man, that it was but fruitless 
 for her to follow. 
 
 Yet she would never rest her weary 
 limbs, but searched every hill and dale, 
 wood and plain, grieving in her gentle 
 breast that he whom she so loved had left 
 her so ungently. 
 
 But the subtle Archimago, when he saw 
 his guests thus separated and Una wander- 
 ing in forests and woods, praised his own 
 fiendish art, that had such power over true 
 meaning hearts. Yet he did not rest, but de- 
 vised other means to cause Una further 
 pain. For he hated her as a hissing snake and 
 took most pleasure in her many troubles. 
 
 He then planned how to disguise himself, 
 for by his mighty art he could take many 
 forms and shapes, sometimes like a fowl, 
 sometimes like a fish, now like a fox, now 
 like a dragon, so that he would often quake 
 with fear of himself. Who can tell the 
 power of Magic? 
 
 [26] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 But it now seemed to him best to put on 
 the appearance of that good Knight who 
 had been his guest. At once he clad him- 
 self with mighty arms, and a silver shield. 
 Upon his cowardly breast he had a bloody 
 cross. He seemed like a fair knight, and of 
 good address. When he sat upon his free 
 courser, you would have thought it was 
 St. George himself. 
 
 But he whose semblance he bore, the 
 true St. George, had wandered far away, 
 still flying from his thoughts and fears. At 
 last, however, the real St. George chanced 
 to meet upon the way a faithl ess Sar acen, 
 all armed, upon whose gfeaF" shield was 
 written with gay letters, Sansfoy, which 
 means, without faith. He was large in 
 limbs and joints, and cared not for God nor 
 man. This Saracen had as a fair compan- 
 ion of his way a goodly Lady, clad in 
 scarlet embroidered with gold and pearls. 
 On her head she wore a Persian mitre 
 decorated with jewels, which her lovers had 
 given her. Her palfrey was covered with 
 tinsel trappings and her bridle rang with 
 golden bells. She entertained this Saracen 
 with mirth and dalliance on the way. 
 
 But when she saw St. George advance 
 his spear, she left off her mirth and bade 
 [27] 
 

 THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 her knight prepare for battle, as a foe was 
 coming. The Saracen, stirred with hope to 
 win his Lady's heart, spurred forth fast. 
 Down his courser's side the red blood 
 trickled and stained the ground as he rode. 
 The Knight of the Redcross, when he 
 spied him spurring so hotly, couched his 
 spear and rode toward him. Soon they both 
 met furiously so that their steeds staggered 
 and stood amazed. Also the knights them- 
 selves were stunned with the strokes of 
 their own hands, and recoiled from each 
 other. There they stood unmoved as rocks, 
 staring fiercely, holding idly their broken 
 spears. The Saracen then snatched his 
 sword and fiercely flew upon his enemy, 
 who warded it well and gave him blow for 
 blow. Each envies the other's equal power, 
 and they seek to pierce through their iron 
 sides. They yield no foot. The flashing 
 
 ^'SJ fire flies, as from a forge. Streams of purple 
 
 /-Or blood color the green fields. 
 
 "A curse on that Cross," then cried the 
 Saracen, "that keeps your body safe. I 
 know you would have been dead long ago, 
 had not that Cross been a charm. But yet 
 I warn you to hide your head." Thereupon 
 he smote upon his crest with such force 
 that he hewed a large piece out of his hel- 
 [28] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 met. St. George, wondrously wroth, soon 
 revived the sleeping spark of his strength, 
 and, aiming at the haughty helmet of the 
 Saracen, struck so furiously that his sv^ord 
 cut through the steel and clove his head. 
 He tumbled down, kissing his mother earth 
 with bloody mouth. His spirit strove with 
 the frail flesh, and at last flitted away. 
 
 The Lady in scarlet^ when she saw her 
 champion fall like the old ruins of a 
 broken tower, stayed not to weep for him 
 but fled away with all her might. The 
 Knight scoured hastily after her, bidding 
 the Dwarf bring away the Saracen's shield, 
 as a sign of his victory, and soon he over- 
 took her, bidding her to stop, as there was 
 no present cause for fear. 
 
 She turned back with sad face, crying, 
 "Mercy, mercy, Sir, show to a silly dame 
 subject to hard mischance and to your 
 mighty will." 
 
 Her humble manner, her rich garments, 
 and glorious appearance, much moved his 
 stout, heroic soul, and he said, "Dear Dame, 
 your sudden overthrow stirs my pity. But 
 now put fear aside and tell who you are, 
 and who he was that took your part.'' 
 
 Then she melted in tears and began to 
 lament thus : "The wretched woman, whom 
 
 [29] 
 
 /\ 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 an unhappy hour has made your slave, be- 
 fore false fortune betrayed me, was the only 
 daughter of an Emperor who had the wide 
 West under his rule and had his throne on 
 the Tiber. He in my fresh youth betrothed 
 me to the only heir of a most mighty king, 
 rich and wise. There was never a Prince 
 so faithful and so fair or so meek; but be- 
 fore the day of my marriage shone, my 
 dearest lord fell into the hands of his ac- 
 cursed foes, and was cruelly slain. His 
 blessed body was afterward hidden from 
 me, and in my great sorrow I went forth to 
 find his woeful corpse. Many years I 
 strayed throughout the world, languishing 
 with a wounded mind. 
 
 "At last it chanced that this proud Sara- 
 cen met me wandering, and he led me away 
 by force, but he could never win my love. 
 Now he lies dead with foul dishonor. In 
 this sad plight, friendless and unfortunate, 
 now miserable I, Fidessa, dwell craving of 
 you in pity to do me no ill." 
 
 St. George was much stirred by this tale, 
 keeping his eyes busy viewing her face, and 
 said, "Fair lady, a heart of flint would pity 
 your undeserved woes and sorrows. Hence- 
 forth you may rest in the safe assurance 
 that you have found a new friend to aid 
 [30] 
 
 ^1f^^^ 
 
 l>^ 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 you, and lost an old foe that molested 
 
 That seemingly simple maid now let her K^y^j; 
 eyes fall modestly to the earth, and, accept- /cfD\V 
 ing his friendship, they rode forth. A long 
 time they thus travelled together, until, 
 weary of their journey, they came at last 
 to a place where two goodly trees grew, 
 that spread their arms abroad, covered with 
 moss; their green leaves trembling with 
 every breeze made a calm shadow far 
 around. This good Knight, as soon as he 
 spied them, rode hastily thither for the cool 
 shade, for the Sun that day hurled his 
 scorching beams so cruelly hot that no 
 living creature could abide them. There 
 they alighted to hide themselves from the 
 fierce heat and to rest their weary limbs. 
 
 There as they sit, he in his deceived fancy 
 takes her to be the fairest woman that ever 
 lived. And to express this thought he uses 
 his gentle wit. And, thinking to form a 
 garland for her dainty forehead, from the 
 green branches he plucked a bough. But 
 out of the broken branch there came small 
 drops of blood that trickled down, and 
 therewith a piteous voice was heard, crying, 
 "Oh, spare with guilty hands to tear my 
 tender sides imprisoned in this rough bark, 
 [31] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 But fly, oh, fly far hence lest that happen 
 to you that did to me and to this wretched 
 lady, my dear love." Astonished, the 
 Knight stood, and could not move a limb 
 for horror. At last his manhood awoke, 
 and doubting his own senses he said, 
 *'What voice of a lost spirit, or wicked 
 sprite wandering in the empty air, sends to 
 my doubting ears these cries and bids 
 me spare guiltless blood?'' 
 
 Then the tree groaned deeply and said, 
 "Not these, but once a man, Fradubio, now 
 a tree. Wretched man, wretched tree, 
 J^ whose weak nature a cruel witch has thus 
 changed, and placed in the open fields, 
 where the winter winds blow bitter and 
 bleak, and the scorching sun dries my veins. 
 For though I seem to be a tree, yet cold 
 and heat pain me." ^^ 
 
 ''Say on, Fradubio, then, man or tree, 
 said the Knight, "by whose mischievous 
 arts you are misshaped thus* He often 
 finds medicine who tells his grief." 
 
 "The author, then," said he, "of all my 
 woe is one Duessa, a false sorceress who 
 has brought many knights to misery. In 
 the prime of my years when hot courage 
 was first kindled in my breast by the fire 
 of love and the joy of chivalry, it was my 
 [32] 
 
1 
 
 \ 
 
 1 
 
 J ■ 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 lot to love this gentle lady whom you see 
 beside me as a tree. Once, accompanied by 
 her, I chanced to be met by a knight who 
 had a like fair Lady by his side, or she was 
 like a fair Lady, but it was the foul Duessa. 
 This knight took in hand to claim that her 
 beauty far exceeded that of all other dames. 
 I in defence of mine likewise stood, mine 
 that did then shine as the morning star. So 
 we both arranged for fierce battle, and it 
 was his harder fortune to fall under my 
 spear. His Lady, as my prize of war, 
 yielded herself to obey my commands. 
 These ladies were both so fair that one day 
 I wisheid to compare and find which ex- 
 ceeded in glorious beauty, and a garland of 
 roses was to be the prize. At the contest 
 both seemed to win, so hard was it to de- 
 cide. Fraelissa was as fair as fair could 
 be, and the false Duessa seemed likewise 
 as fair.. The wicked witch, seeing how 
 doubtful was the balance, cast about to win 
 by guile what she could not get by right, 
 and by her magic she raised a foggy mist 
 that overcast the day, and a dull blast that 
 breathed on my Lady's face, dimming her 
 beauty and making her seem ugly. Then 
 was Duessa fair alone. Then she cried out, 
 Tie, deformed wight, whose borrowed 
 [33] 
 
 /. 
 
 w 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 beauty now plainly shows that before you 
 bewitched men's eyes. Leave her or let her 
 be slain/ 
 
 "Seeing my Lady's ugly face, I was filled 
 with scorn and believed she was a witch as 
 Duessa had said. I would have killed her, 
 but the false witch changed her into a tree. 
 Thenceforth I took Duessa for my dame, 
 and in this witch found joy for a long time, 
 never knowing what she was. But on a 
 day, that day when witches do penance for 
 their crimes, I chanced to see her in her 
 own form, a filthy, foul old woman. She 
 was more hideous and foul than man would 
 believe woman's shape could be. Thence- 
 forth I refrained from her beastly company, 
 as soon as there was safe opportunity. For 
 I knew there was great danger before 
 my eyes if she knew I strayed from her. 
 
 "This hag perceived my thoughts by my 
 changed face, and when I was drowned in 
 sleep she smeared my body with herbs and 
 ointments that took away my senses. Then 
 she brought me to this desert place and put 
 me by my wretched Lady's side, where now 
 imprisoned in wooden walls, banished from 
 living men, we waste our weary days." 
 
 "But how long a time," said St. George, 
 "are you to dwell in this tree?" 
 [34] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 "We may not change," said he, "until we 
 are bathed in a living well." 
 
 " O how," said he, " might I find out that 
 well that may restore you to your shape?" 
 
 "Time and fate shall restore us to our 
 former kind. None else can help us," the 
 tree replied. 
 
 The false Duessa, now called Fidessa, 
 heard how in vain Fradubio lamented, and 
 knew well all was true* But the good 
 Knight, full of fear and horror, when the 
 tree had made this speech, thrust the bleed- 
 ing bough into the ground that he might 
 be innocent from the blood, and closed the 
 v/ound with fresh clay. Then he turned to 
 his Lady, who lay as if dead with fear, pre- 
 tending not to know what well she knew. 
 He busied himself to bring her out of her 
 swoon. At last she began to lift up her eye- 
 lids, and with woeful face he took her up 
 and kissed her often. And when all fear 
 was past, he set her on her steed, and for- 
 ward both rode away. 
 
 [35] 
 
CHAPTER IV, 
 
 UNA AND THE LION. — THE LION KILLS A 
 ROBBER.— ARCHIMAGO, DISGUISED AS ST. 
 GEORGE, MEETS UNA. — SANSLOY, BROTHER 
 OF SANSFOY, FIGHTS WITH ARCHIMAGO.— 
 SANSLOY KILLS THE LION AND SEIZES 
 UNA. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 OTHING moves compas- 
 sion more than beauty be- 
 ing brought to wretched- 
 ness by envy or by freaks ,, 
 of fortune. And now we 
 could weep to think how 
 Una through deception, 
 though daughter of a king, 
 though fair as ever living being was fair, 
 though she had net in word or deed merited 
 ill, is separated in despair from her Knight, 
 and the love due her given to that vile witch. 
 Yet she, most faithful Lady, forsaken, 
 woeful, solitary, far from all crowds, as if 
 in exile, strayed in the wilderness and in 
 wasteful deserts to seek her Knight, who, 
 subtly deceived by the vision which Archi- 
 mago wrought, had abandoned her. She, 
 fearful of nothing, daily sought him 
 through woods and wide wastes, yet no 
 tidings of him were brought to her. 
 [39] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 One day, weary of the irksome way, she 
 alighted from her slow beast, and laid her 
 dainty limbs on the grass, in the secret 
 shade, far from all men's sight. From her 
 fair head she took off her fillet, and she laid 
 her black robe aside. Her angel's counte- 
 nance shone bright as the sun, and made 
 sunshine in that shady spot, for mortal eyes 
 never beheld such heavenly grace. 
 
 It happened that out of the thickest wood 
 a ramping lion suddenly rushed, hunting 
 after savage blood. Soon as he spied the 
 royal virgin, he ran greedily at her with 
 gaping mouth, as if at once he would de- 
 vour her tender body. But when he drew 
 nearer to his prey, his bloody rage was 
 assuaged by pity, and, amazed at the sight, 
 he forgot his fury. 
 
 Instead, he kissed her weary feet, and 
 licked her lily hands with fawning tongue, 
 as if he knew her wronged innocence. O, 
 beauty can master the strongest, and simple 
 truth can subdue wrong. Though she had 
 feared death, now when she saw this proud 
 brute thus submissive, her heart began to 
 melt with compassion, and she shed pure, 
 affectionate tears. 
 
 *'The Lion,'' she said, **lord of every 
 beast in the field, does abate his princely 
 [40] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 might, and the proud yields to humble 
 weakness, forgetful of his hungry rage in 
 pity for my sad condition. But he, my noble 
 lord, how does he find it in his cruel heart 
 to hate her that loved and adored him? 
 Why has he abhorred me?" 
 
 Abundant tears choked the rest of her 
 lament, which softly echoed through the 
 wood. And, sad at seeing her sorrow, the 
 kingly beast stood gazing upon her. His 
 angry mood was calmed down with pity. 
 At last, shutting up her pain in her heart, 
 the virgin arose and got again upon her 
 palfrey, to go in search of her Champion 
 who had strayed from her. 
 
 But the Lion would not leave her deso- 
 late, but went along with her as her strong 
 guard and a faithful mate of her troubles. 
 Ever when she slept he kept watch, and 
 when she waked he waited diligently to 
 serve her will. He took his orders from 
 her fair eyes and by her looks understood 
 her desires. Long she thus travelled 
 through wide deserts, where she thought 
 her wandering Knight might pass. Yet 
 she saw no living man, until at length she 
 found trodden grass where there were 
 tracks of people's feet, under a steep moun- 
 tain. This way she followed until at last 
 [41] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 
 \ 
 
 she spied a damsel walking slowly before 
 her, and bearing upon her shoulders a 
 waterpot. 
 
 As she approached, Una began to call to 
 know if any house was near at hand. But 
 the rude girl did not answer her at all ; she 
 would not hear, nor speak, nor understand. 
 Till, seeing the Lion by her side, she threw 
 her pitcher down with sudden fear and fled 
 away; for never before in that land had 
 she seen the face of a fair lady, and the 
 look of that dreadful Lion made her pale as 
 death. Fast she fled, nor ever looked be- 
 hind. Home she ran, where her blind 
 mother sat in darkness. She was not able 
 to speak, but suddenly catching hold of her 
 dame, she frightened her with her shaking 
 hands and other signs of fear. Then full of 
 fright she began to shut the door. By this 
 time Una arrived and asked admission, 
 which being refused, the lion with his rude 
 claws rent the gate open and let her in, 
 where Una found them both in darkness, 
 almost dead with fear. But Una, to remove 
 their needless fear, spoke fitting words, and 
 prayed that she might rest in their cottage 
 that night. 
 
 When the day had gone and drowsy 
 night had come, Una laid her down wearily, 
 [42] . 
 

 L 
 
 THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 and at her feet the Lion kept watch, but 
 she instead of sleeping lamented and wept 
 for the loss of her beloved Knight. In the 
 middle of the night, when all the others lay 
 in deadly sleep, some one knocked at the 
 door, and cursed and knocked so fast that 
 he was not let in at once. For on his back 
 he bore a heavy load of stolen goods which ^ 
 he had gotten abroad by robbery. He was 
 indeed a stout thief, by name Kirk-rapine, 
 who was used to rob churches and poor 
 men's boxes of alms. And all that he could 
 find he brought to this house, and bestowed 
 it upon Abessa, the daughter of the blind 
 woman, Corceca. 
 
 Thus he beat the door long with rage and 
 threats, yet the women were afraid to rise 
 to let him in, because of the Lion. At length 
 he would stay outside no longer, and 
 furiously broke the door down and entered, 
 when the Lion, meeting him fiercely, seized 
 him with his cruel claws and put him down 
 under his lordly foot. It helped him not to 
 struggle nor to call, for the beast soon rent 
 him into a thousand pieces. His frightened 
 friends did not dare to cry out nor seem to 
 understand what had been done, for fear 
 they might be dealt with in the same 
 way. 
 
 [43] .. 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 Now when the broad day had come, up 
 Una rose, and the Lion, too, and they passed 
 forward on their journey in unknown ways, 
 to seek her wandering Knight. Still she 
 sought him who fled from her. As soon as 
 d|,ii)Jfe7l she left that house, the frightened women 
 forsook their beds, and, finding the robber 
 slain, they began to tear their hair and beat 
 their breasts. And when they had wailed 
 and wept their fill, they ran forth half 
 crazed with desire for revenge, to follow 
 her that had brought this evil upon them. 
 
 When they had overtaken her, they be- 
 gan to cry loudly and to rail at her. And 
 they prayed that plagues and misery and 
 mischief might fall upon her. But when 
 they were weary with their curses, they 
 turned back toward their home, and in the 
 way they met a knight bearing mighty 
 arms, who was not a knight at all, but the 
 subtile Archimago, who sought Una, that 
 he might bring new troubles upon her. He 
 asked of those women if they could tell any- 
 thing of such a lady as Una. 
 
 Thereupon they began to renew their 
 curses and cries, and to say that they had 
 lately known that vile person, who had 
 caused them to shed so many bitter tears. 
 And then they told forth their tale. This 
 [44] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 Archimago seemed to mourn much for their 
 mishap, and then inquired for that Lady, 
 and when he had learned which way she 
 had gone he rode forward with his lance in 
 his hand. 
 
 Before long, he came where Una 
 travelled slowly, with her wild champion, 
 the Lion, by her side. When he saw this 
 beast, he feared to show himself too near, 
 but turned away toward a hill. From thence 
 she saw him, and by his shield, like that of 
 her Knight, she thought it was he, and be- 
 gan to ride toward him. Approaching near, 
 she thought it was the same, and with 
 timid humility she came toward him, and 
 weeping said, *'Ah, my lord, where have 
 you been so long out of my sight? Much 
 I have feared to be so hated. What have I 
 done that might displease you? Since my 
 eyes have missed the joyful sight of you, 
 my cheerful day is turned to cheerless night 
 and my night is the shadow of death. But 
 welcome now, my light and shining lamp 
 of bliss.'* 
 
 He, meeting her, said, "My dearest dame, 
 far be it from your thought and from my 
 will, to think that I should so shame knight- 
 hood as to leave you that have loved me 
 and chosen me in the Fairy court, where 
 [45] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 were to be found the noblest knights upon 
 earth. The earth shall sooner lose her 
 kindly skill to bring forth fruit, than I leave 
 you, my life. And to say truth, why I left 
 you so long Vv^as to seek an adventure in a 
 strange place where Archimago said a 
 strong felon worked daily disgrace upon 
 many knights. But he shall never harm 
 another knight. This is my excuse, and 
 may it please you to accept it, and evermore 
 embrace my faithful service, that have 
 vowed to defend you by land and sea. Now 
 then, cease your grief." 
 
 His lovely words seemed due recompense 
 for all her pain. One loving hour can make 
 up for years of sorrow. A dram of sweet 
 is worth a pound of sour. She has forgot- 
 ten how many perils she has endured. She 
 speaks no more of the past. True love has 
 no power to look back; his eyes are fixed 
 in front. Before her stands her Knight, as 
 she thinks. 
 
 As joyous as a mariner when he has come 
 to port, was Una, now her knight was 
 found. And the magician seemed no less 
 joyous than a merchant whose ship comes 
 safe with his goods. So they rode forth, 
 and all the way they discoursed of her late 
 sorrows, and he asked her what the Lion 
 . [46]. 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 meant. And she told him all that happened 
 to her, as they journeyed. 
 
 They had not ridden far, when they saw 
 one spurring toward them rapidly, strongly 
 armed and mounted on a free courser that 
 foamed with sweat. And he champed his 
 bit with anger when his rider chafed his 
 sides with the spurs. His look was stern, 
 and he seemed to threaten cruel revenge. 
 And he was Sansloy, the brother of Sans- 
 foy, whom St. George had slain. 
 
 When he drew near unto this pair, and 
 saw the Redcross which the knight bore, he 
 burned with rage, and began to prepare 
 himself for battle with his couched spear. 
 Archimago was loath to fight, and almost 
 fainted with fear. But his Lady cheered 
 him so well that he began to feel hope of 
 good fortune. So he bent his spear and 
 spurred his horse with his iron heel. 
 
 But that proud Saracen came forward so 
 fiercely that with his sharp spear he pierced 
 quite through his shield, and had his horse 
 not shrunk back through fear, he would 
 have borne him through shield and body. 
 Yet so great was the strength of his blow 
 that he forced him from his saddle, so that 
 he tumbled down to the ground and a well 
 of blood gushed from his hurt. Dismount- 
 [47] 
 
 K 
 
 /■ 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 ing lightly from his steed, he leaped upon 
 him to take his life, and said proudly, *'Lo, 
 there is the worthy reward of him that slew 
 Sansfoy, my brother, with a bloody knife. 
 Now he is avenged. You took life from 
 Sansfoy, and Sansloy shall take yours." 
 
 Therewith he hastily began to unlace his 
 helmet, when Una cried, "O, hold your 
 heavy hand, dear sir. Enough is it that 
 your vanquished foe is at your mercy. For 
 he is one of the truest knights alive, though 
 now he lies conquered. While fortune 
 favored him, he thrived fairly in a bloody 
 field. Therefore do not take his life." 
 
 Her piteous words could not lessen his 
 rage, but roughly rending his helmet, he 
 would have slain him at once. But when 
 he saw the gray head of Archimago, he held 
 back his hasty hand and wondered at the 
 sight. For he knew the old man well, and 
 that he had wondrous power in charms and 
 magic, and was never used to fight in the 
 fields nor in the lists. Then he said, *'Why, 
 Archimago, unlucky man, what do I see? 
 What hard mishap is this that has brought 
 you here under my anger? Is it your fault 
 or my error to wound my friend instead of 
 a foe?" 
 
 But he answered nothing, but lay still in 
 [48] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 a trance, and one would have thought he 
 was near to death; which, when Sansloy 
 saw, he stayed no longer by him, but went 
 to Una, who all this while stood amazed 
 that she was so mocked by him who had 
 feigned to be her true knight. Yet was she 
 now in more perplexity that she was left in 
 the hand of that bold Saracen, from whom 
 she was not able to fly. He now caught 
 her by her garment and plucked her from 
 her palfrey that he might see her face. 
 
 But her fierce servant, the Lion, full of 
 kingly rage, when he saw his lady so 
 rudely handled by her foe, came at him 
 with gaping, greedy mouth, and, leaping on 
 his shield, tried to tear it away with his 
 sharp, rending claws. But the Saracen was 
 stout and snatched his shield away, and 
 drew forth his sword. 
 
 O, then too weak and feeble was the force 
 of a savage beast to withstand his power. 
 For he was strong, and as mighty in body 
 as any who ever wielded a spear, and he 
 understood well feats of arms. And he 
 pierced through his chest with the thrill- 
 ing point of the deadly iron, and even into 
 his lordly heart. The Lion roared aloud, 
 oppressed with death, while his life forsook 
 him, 
 
 [49] 
 

 ■^ 
 
 r / 
 
 r\ 
 
 v€tf) 
 
 w 
 
 THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 Who now is left to guard the forlorn 
 maiden? Her faithful guard is removed, 
 and she is yielded a prey to the victor. He 
 is now lord of the field and he utters foul 
 reproaches and disdainful spite. 
 
 And whether she would or no, he bore 
 her away upon his courser. All the way, 
 with great lamentings and piteous cries 
 she fills his ears, so that a heart of stone 
 would have been riven in twain. All the 
 way she wets with flowing tears, but he, 
 enraged with hate, listens to nothing. But 
 her friendly palfrey would not leave her so, 
 but follows her afar off; he does not fear 
 to partake of her wanderings. He was 
 more mild in beastly kind than her beastly 
 foe. 
 
 Z*^ 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE REDCROSS KNIGHT GOES WITH 
 DUESSA TO THE HOUSE OF PRIDE. — DAME 
 PRIDE RECEIVES THEM. — ST. GEORGE 
 MEETS SANSJOY, BROTHER OF SANSFOY 
 AND SANSLOY. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 ND now the Redcross 
 Knight, St. George, who 
 had been deceived by the 
 subtle Archinaago and 
 made to forsake the faith- 
 ful Una and to follow the 
 false Duessa, called Fi- 
 dessa, travelled long and 
 far with that ill woman. And at last they 
 saw in front of them a goodly building that 
 seemed to be the house of some mighty 
 Prince. Toward it there led a broad high- 
 way that was worn with the feet of the 
 people who travelled thither. 
 
 Great troops of people of every degree 
 from every place travelled toward it day 
 and night, but few returned from thence; 
 and these were reduced to want or foully 
 disgraced, and ever afterward lay in 
 wretchedness, like loathsome beggars, by 
 the hedges. Thither Duessa bade him turn 
 [53] 
 
 3^ 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 his horse, for she was weary of the toilsome 
 journey, and the day was almost gone. 
 
 Before them was a stately palace of 
 square bricks, which were cunningly laid 
 without mortar. The walls were high, but 
 not thick nor strong, and gold foil was dis- 
 played all over them, so that they outshone 
 the brightest sky. There were many lofty 
 towers, and goodly galleries, full of fair 
 windows and delightful nooks. On the 
 top was a dial that marked the passing 
 time. 
 
 It was a goodly heap to look upon. One 
 could not see it without praising the work- 
 man's skill that built it. But it seemed a 
 great pity that so fair a house stood upon 
 so weak a foundation; for it was placed 
 upon a sandy hill, and every breeze shook 
 it, and all the back parts, that few could 
 see, were ruinous and old, but they were 
 cunningly painted so as to deceive those 
 who beheld them. 
 
 Arrived there, they passed right in, for 
 all the gates stood wide open, yet they were 
 in charge of a porter called Malvenu, who 
 denied no one entrance. Thence they went 
 to the hall, which was decked on every side 
 with rich array and costly arras. Many 
 sorts of people stayed there, waiting long 
 
 i54L. 
 
 \ 
 
 
 
 ( 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 to obtain the sight of Dame Pride that was 
 the Lady of the bright palace. 
 
 But all these they passed, gazing round 
 upon them, and mounted to the presence of 
 the Lady, whose glorious appearance 
 amazed their senses. Such riches and 
 sumptuousness were never known in the 
 court of any living prince. Persia itself, the 
 home of pompous pride, never saw the like. 
 There a noble crew of Lords and Ladies 
 stood on every side, beautifying the place 
 with their presence. 
 
 High above all was spread a cloth of 
 state, and a rich throne bright as a sunny 
 day. On this there sat, bravely dressed 
 with royal robes and gorgeous array, a 
 maiden Queen, Dame Pride herself, who 
 shone in glittering gold and peerless pre- 
 cious stones. Yet her bright, blazing beauty 
 dimmed the brightness of the throne. She 
 shone proud in her princely state, looking 
 toward heaven and disdaining the earth 
 Underneath her feet lay a dreadful Dragon; 
 in her hand she held a bright mirror, where^ 
 m she often viewed her face, for she took 
 great delight in her own semblance. 
 
 She was the daughter of grisly Pluto and 
 the sad Proserpina. Yet she thought her 
 peerless worth above such parentage; she 
 [55] 
 
7, 
 
 A 
 
 THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 was so swollen with vanity that she 
 claimed for her father the thundering Jupi- 
 ter, who dwells in heaven and rules the 
 world. For she aspired to the highest, and 
 if anything were higher than Jupiter she 
 would have desired that. Men called her 
 the proud Lucifera, who made herself a 
 Queen, though she had no rightful kin^^- 
 dom, but usurped the sceptre which she 
 now held. Nor did she rule her realm with 
 laws, but policy, and the advice of six old 
 wizards who by their bad counsels upheld 
 her kingdom. 
 
 Soon as the Redcross Knight and the 
 false Duessa came into her presence, a 
 gentle usher, named Vanity, made room 
 for them and brought them to the lowest 
 step of her throne. There they made 
 obeisance on their knees and declared the 
 reason why they were come to see her royal 
 state, to learn for themselves the truth as 
 to the fame of her great Majesty. With 
 lofty eyes, half loath to look so low, she 
 thanked them in her proud manner. Nor 
 did she show them any other favor worthy 
 of a princess, scarcely bidding them arise. 
 
 But her Lords and Ladies, having ar- 
 ranged their ruffs and decked themselves 
 in their gayest attire, began to entertain 
 [56] 
 
 f 
 
 
ul 
 
 
 THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 the Knight, glad to have increased their 
 number by his presence. And to Duessa 
 each one took pains to show all kindness 
 and fair courtesy, for in that court they had 
 formerly known her well. Yet the stout 
 Redcross Knight, among that crowd, 
 thought all their glory vain, and the great 
 Princess too exceeding proud who showed 
 no better countenance to a strange knight. 
 
 Suddenly the royal dame rose up from 
 her stately place, and called for her coach. 
 Then all rushed out while she with queenly 
 pace went forth/ blazing brightly as the 
 sun at the dawn. The crowds of people, 
 thronging the hall, got each upon the other's 
 back to gaze upon her. Her glory and 
 light amazed all men's eyes. So she went 
 forth and climbed to her coach, adorned 
 with gold and garlands. She strove to 
 match in her rich array Juno's golden chair, 
 at which they say the gods stand gazing. 
 
 Her coach was drawn by six beasts on 
 which her six Counsellors rode. The first 
 of these was Idleness, who chose to ride 
 upon a slothful Ass. The second was Glut- 
 tony, a deformed creature, who was 
 mounted upon a Swine. Next Riot rode 
 upon a bearded Goat. By his side was 
 greedy Avarice, upon a Camel laden with 
 [57] 
 
 y- 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 gold. Next him was Envy, upon a raven- 
 ous Wolf. Beside him rode fierce, aven?:- 
 ing Wrath, upon a Lion. 
 
 After all, upon the wagon beam, rode 
 Satan, with a smarting whip in his hand, 
 with which he lashed forward the lazy 
 team. Huge crowds of people stood about 
 them shouting for joy. Still before the way 
 ^ foggy mist covered all the land, and 
 underneath their feet lay skulls and bones 
 of men who had strayed into sin. 
 
 So forth they marched to take the solace 
 of the open air and to sport in the fresh, 
 flowering fields. Among the rest rode that 
 false, fair Lady, the foul Duessa, next the 
 seat of the proud Lucifera. But the good 
 Knight, disliking their vain joy, would not 
 ride so near those who seemed unfit com- 
 pany for a warrior. When they had en- 
 joyed for a time the pleasure of the open 
 fields, they all returned back to the princely 
 house. 
 
 And there they found a wandering knight 
 clad in armor, and bearing a shield whereon 
 was written in red letters the name Sans- 
 joy^ And when he saw the shield of his 
 dead brother, Sansfoy, that St. George had 
 taken and kept in charge of his Dwarf, he 
 burned with rage, for now he knew it was 
 [58] 
 
) 
 
 THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 the Redcross Knight that had slain him. 
 He leaped upon the Dwarf and snatched 
 away the shield, the gage of the victor's 
 glory. But St. George, who owned that 
 hard-won buckler, disdained to lose what 
 he had won in fight, and fiercely rushing in, 
 rescued the noble shield. 
 
 Thereupon they began to battle fiercely, 
 to clash their shields and shake their 
 swords on high, so that with their stir they 
 disturbed all the company. Then that great 
 Queen commanded them to cease their fury, 
 upon her high displeasure. And she said 
 that if either of them had right to that 
 shield they should fight for it on the next 
 day in the lists. 
 
 ^*Ah, dearest Dame," said the Saracen, 
 "forgive the error of an angry man, whom 
 great grief made forget to hold the reins of 
 reason. This is a recreant knight who 
 through guile has slain the proudest knight 
 that ever fought in a field, and whose 
 shield he bears to heap scorn upon me. 
 And, to increase his guilt, he has possessed 
 himself of my brother's dearest love, the 
 fair Fidessa. His brother's hand shall 
 dearly repay him, if, O Queen, you will 
 show equal favor." 
 
 The angry knight St. George answered 
 [S9] 
 
A 
 
 THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 but little, for he meant to plead his right 
 with swords, not words. But he threw 
 down his gauntlet as a sacred pledge that 
 he would try his cause in combat the next 
 day. So they were both parted, each 
 anxious to be avenged on his enemy. That 
 night was passed in joy and feasting, both 
 in bower and hall. And when all the courtly 
 company had fallen asleep, up rose Duessa 
 from her resting place, and silently went to 
 the lodging of the Saracen, whom she found 
 broad awake planning how he might over- 
 come his enemy. 
 
 To him Duessa spoke, *'Ah, dear Sansjoy, 
 next dearest to Sansfoy, I grieve to think 
 how his foe did destroy him that was the 
 flower of grace and chivalry. Now his 
 Fidessa flies to you, to get your secret 
 faith." 
 
 He began to greet her fairly with gentle 
 words, and bade her say on the secret of 
 her heart. Then she sighed softly, and 
 said, "Since my heart was first pierced with 
 love for dear Sansfoy I have never joyed 
 an hour, but have wasted my weaker heart 
 in woe, loving him with all my power, and 
 for his sake have passed through many 
 perils. At last, when I thought all dangers 
 past, and hoped to reap the fruit of all 
 [6ol 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 my care, I was cast into new woes by this 
 false traitor who entrapped him with his 
 guile, slew him, and brought him to a 
 shameful grave. Then he carried me away, 
 a silly maid, and ever since has kept me in 
 a dark cavern. But now some light has 
 come into my life by your presence. And 
 to you belongs by right the love I gave him, 
 your brother. Let not his love be unre- 
 venged." 
 
 Thereto he said, "Fair Dame, think not 
 of sorrows past. Nor yet be afraid of pres- 
 ent evil. It is useless to moan for what 
 cannot be helped. Sansfoy is dead, and he 
 lives who shall sacrifice in haste the guilty 
 blood of this Knight." 
 
 " Oh, but I fear," said she, " the freaks of 
 fickle fortune and the odds of arms in the 
 field of battle." 
 
 "Why, Dame," he said, "what can be the 
 odds where both fight alike to win or 
 yield?" 
 
 "Yes, but," she said, "he bears a charmed 
 shield and enchanted armor that no one can 
 pierce. And no one can wound the man 
 who wields them." 
 
 "Charmed or enchanted," he answered 
 fiercely, "I care no whit. Nor need you to 
 tell me of the like. But, fair Fidessa, since 
 [6i] 
 
 r 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 fortune has deceived you, or your enemy's 
 power has made you a captive, go back 
 whence you came, and rest awhile, until the 
 morrow, when I shall overcome that Knight 
 and give to you the dowry of the dead 
 Sansfoy." 
 
 "Wherever I am," she said, "my secret 
 aid shall follow you." And, obeying him, 
 she passed forth. 
 
 [62] 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE BATTLE OF THE REDCROSS KNIGHT 
 WITH SANSJOY. — A CLOUD HIDES SANSJOY. 
 — THE VISIT OF DUESSA TO NIGHT. — SANS- 
 JOY IS PLACED UNDER THE CARE OF 
 ^SCULAPIUS. — ST. GEORGE AND THE 
 DWARF LEAVE THE HOUSE OF PRIDE. 
 

 CHAPTER VI 
 
 rLL night long the Redcross 
 Knight lay wakeful, plan- 
 ning how he might achieve 
 the greatest honor in that , 
 tournament. Thus waking 
 he watched for the dawn- 
 ing light. At last the 
 sun hurled his glittering 
 beams through the gloomy air, and then 
 the Knight straightway started up and 
 prepared himself with bright arms 
 and the array of battle. For that 
 day he would combat with the proud 
 Saracen. 
 
 And forth he went into the common hall, 
 where many were waiting to know what 
 might come to the stranger knights. There 
 many Minstrels made melody, and many 
 Bards were tuning their voices to the 
 trembling strings of their harps. And 
 Chroniclers were there who recorded old 
 [65] 
 
s!^ 
 
 THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 love stories and the wars that Lords made 
 for their Ladies. 
 
 Soon after came the cruel Saracen, 
 armed with woven mail, and he sternly 
 looked at the Redcross Knight, who cared 
 not a pin for the look of any man. Then 
 the servitors brought them wines and 
 spices; and they bound themselves with a 
 solemn oath to observe the sacred laws of 
 arms. 
 
 At last came forth the renowned Queen, 
 with regal pomp and majesty. And she was 
 brought to a grassy place, and set under a 
 stately canopy, where she could see the 
 warlike feats of both those knights. On the 
 other side, in all men's view, Duessa was 
 placed. And on a tree the shield of Sans- 
 foy was hung. Both of these were to be 
 won by the victor. 
 
 A shrill trumpet sounded from on high, 
 and bade them get ready for their battle. 
 They tied their shining shields about their 
 wrists, and they brandished their burning 
 blades about their heads. With greedy 
 force they assailed each other and im- 
 pressed deep, dinted furrows in the battered 
 mail. 
 
 The Saracen was stout and wondrous 
 strong, and heaped blows like great iron 
 [66] 
 
 Oi]^ 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 hammers, for he longed after blood and 
 vengeance. The Knight was fierce and full 
 of youthful heat, and doubled his strokes 
 like the threatenings of dreaded thunders; 
 and he fought for glory and honor. Both 
 strike when struck, so that from their 
 shields fiery light flies forth and the hewn 
 helmets show deep marks of either's might. 
 
 So the one strives for wrong and the 
 other strives for right, and each would 
 drive his foe to deadly shame. The cruel 
 steel so greedily bites the tender flesh that 
 streams of blood flow down, with which 
 their armor, that at first shone bright, is 
 now dyed into a pure vermilion. Great 
 pity grew in the hearts of all who looked 
 on, beholding the wide gaping wounds, so 
 that they dared not wish victory for either 
 side. 
 
 At last the Saracen chanced to cast his 
 eye, with wrathful fire, upon his brother's 
 shield that hung near. Thereupon his rage 
 was redoubled, and he cried, *'Ah, wretched 
 son of an unhappy sire, do you sit wailing 
 in the land of spirits while your shield 
 hangs here as a reward of the victor? Let 
 my sluggish blood be stirred to send after 
 you your foe. Go, caitiff Knight, overtake 
 your victim in the other world. Go, guilty 
 
.<^:j2L:f1 
 
 THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 ghost, take him my message, that I have 
 won his shield from his dying foe." 
 
 Thereupon, he struck the Knight upon 
 the crest, so that he reeled twice, and was 
 ready twice to fall. This the lookers-on 
 thought was the end of the battle, and the 
 false Duessa, ready to be on the side of the 
 victor, cried loudly to the Saracen, "The 
 shield is yours, and so am I, and all." 
 
 Soon as the Redcross Knight heard his 
 Lady's voice, he began to awake out of his 
 swoon, and his faith that had grown weak 
 became stronger, and he shook away the 
 deadly cold. Then, moved with wrath and 
 shame, he desired to be avenged of all at 
 once, and struck with such exceeding fury 
 that he forced the Saracen to stoop upon 
 his knee ; had he not stooped he would have 
 been cloven through the head. And to him 
 the Knight said, **Go now, proud miscreant, 
 bear the message yourself to your dear 
 brother. He has been wandering alone 
 too long without you. Go, say his foe does 
 bear his shield." 
 
 Therewith he began to lift high his 
 heavy hand to slay him, when, lo, a dark 
 cloud fell upon the Saracen, and he van- 
 ished from the eyes of the Redcross Knight. 
 He called aloud to him, but received no 
 [68] 
 

 s 
 
 THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 answer, for the darkness hid him. Then in 
 haste Duessa rose from her seat, seeing St. 
 George now the victor, and ready to be on 
 the conqueror's side, whichever it might 
 be, and she ran to him saying, **0, bravest 
 Knight that ever lady chose for her love, 
 now abate the terror of your might and 
 gloomy vengeance. Lo, the infernal powers 
 covering your foe with a cloud of 
 night have borne him hence to Pluto's 
 dwelling. The victory is yours ; I am yours ; 
 the shield and the glory are yours." 
 
 But not satisfied, the Knight with greedy 
 eyes sought all about to bathe his sword in 
 the blood of his faithless enemy, who all 
 that while lay hidden in secret shadows. 
 The Knight stood amazed how his foe had 
 vanished thence. And last the trumpets 
 sounded for his victory, and the running 
 heralds did him homage, greeting him as 
 conqueror, and they brought him the shield, 
 the cause of the strife. 
 
 With this the Knight went to the sov- 
 ereign Queen, and, falling before her on his 
 lowly knee, made the offer of his services, 
 which she accepted with thanks and goodly 
 favor. So they marched home, and by her 
 rode the Knight whom all the people fol- 
 lowed with great glee, shouting and clap- 
 Leg] 
 
 /. 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 ping all their hands on high so that the 
 sound filled the air. 
 
 Home the Knight was brought and laid 
 in a sumptuous bed, for his hurts were 
 painful, though not very grea*t, and there 
 many skilful physicians dressed his wounds, 
 that bled freshly. They washed his hurts 
 with wine and oil. And all the while 
 heavenly melody of sweet music was made 
 to soothe his pain. And all the while 
 Duessa wept bitterly in false grief. So wept 
 Duessa until evening, and then she rose and 
 went to the place where the Saracen knight 
 lay in a swoon, covered with an enchanted 
 cloud. And when she found him thus, she 
 would not stay to mourn his woe, but made 
 speedy way to the Eastern coast of the 
 heavens, where grisly Night, with sad vis- 
 age, and clad in a foul, black, pitchy mantle, 
 was found coming from her dark home 
 where she hid all day. Before the door 
 her iron chariot stood, already harnessed 
 for her new journey, and her coal black 
 steeds were champing their rusty bits. 
 
 When Night saw the fair Duessa, 
 adorned with gold and jewels, she was 
 amazed, and began to fear the unfamiliar 
 light, for such brightness had never ap- 
 peared in her realm before. She would 
 [70] 
 
) 
 
 THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 have retired back into her cave, when she 
 heard the false one's voice, saying, "O 
 dreaded Dame, wait till I have told my 
 message." 
 
 Then Night stayed, and Duessa began: 
 **Oh, ancient Grandmother of all, why suf- 
 fered you your dear nephews to fall before 
 the sword of the Redcross Knight? Lo, 
 the stout Sansjoy swoons. And before 
 him, I saw the bold Sansfoy shrink beneath 
 his spear. Who shall not scorn the chil- 
 dren of great Night, when her nephews are 
 so neglected? Up then, up. Dame, Queen 
 of Darkness, go gather up the remains of 
 your race. Or else avenge them." 
 
 Her feeling speeches moved some com- 
 passion in the heart of Night, who said, 
 "Dear daughter, rightly may I pity the fall 
 of my famous children and the successes of 
 their foes. But who can turn the stream of 
 destiny, or break the chain of necessity 
 which is tied fast to Jove's eternal seat? I 
 see that he favors the sons of Day, and 
 thinks to make them great by my ruin. Yet 
 shall the man who made Sansfoy fall pay 
 with his own blood for that which he has 
 spilt. But who are you, who tell me of the 
 death of my nephews?" 
 
 "I, that do not seem myself, am Duessa," 
 [71] 
 
Lav 
 
 .^, 
 
 THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 said she, "though now arrayed in gorgeous 
 gold. I am Duessa, the daughter of De- 
 ceit and Shame." 
 
 Then Night got upon her iron wagon 
 head, kissed the wicked wretch, saying, 
 **In that fair face I see the resemblance of 
 Deceit. Yet you seemed so true that in 
 this dark place I could scarcely discern it, 
 though I am the mother of Falsehood. O, 
 welcome, child, whom I have longed to see. 
 Lo, now I will go with you." 
 
 Then Night got upon her iron wagon, 
 and with her bore the foul, but beautiful 
 witch. She made her ready way through 
 the murky air with her two-fold team, that 
 softly swam away, trampling the fine ele- 
 ment. So well they sped that they came 
 at length to the place where the Saracen 
 lay senseless, covered with the charmed 
 cloud. His cruel wounds were congealed 
 with blood, but they bound them as best 
 they could, and laid him in the chariot. 
 Thence turning back in silence they stole 
 softly away and brought the body to the 
 yawning gulf of Avernus. . . And there 
 through the entrance, dark with smoke and 
 sulphur, they drove their chariot down to 
 Pluto's house. 
 
 They passed the bitter waves of Acheron, 
 [72] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 and the flood of Phlegethon, and, before the 
 house, they found the dreadful dog Cerbe- 
 rus, who being appeased by Night, hung 
 down his tail and suffered them to pass. 
 There ancient Night alighted and, taking 
 the Knight in her arms, bore him to Aescu- 
 lapius. Then having softly taken off his 
 armor to uncover all his wounds, she be- 
 sought him, if salves or oils or herbs or 
 charms could raise him from the door of 
 death, that he would prolong her nephew's 
 days. 
 
 Then this learned man began to treat the 
 wounds with his cunning hand, and all 
 things that his art taught. Having seen 
 this, the mother of darkness rose to go 
 away, leaving the Saracen in the care of 
 Aesculapius. Back she returned to run her 
 race, while the Sun drew his wagon through 
 the Western waves. 
 
 The false Duessa, leaving Night, re- 
 turned to the stately palace of Dame Pride, 
 where when she came she found St. George 
 gone thence, although his wounds were not 
 well healed. Good cause he had to hasten 
 from that place, for one day his wary Dwarf 
 had spied where in a deep dungeon large 
 numbers of captive knights were kep^. 
 The Dwarf had learned secretly the cause 
 [73] 
 
 L 
 
la^ 
 
 THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 of their imprisonment, how Covetousness, 
 Riot, Tyranny, Wrath, and Envy had con- 
 demned them to that dungeon, where they 
 lived in woe and died in wretchedness. 
 
 And when the careful Dwarf had told 
 their case and their mournful sight to his 
 Master, he would stay no longer in peril of 
 such a fate. But he rose early, and before 
 the dawn he fled by a private gate, that no 
 envious eyes might see him, for doubtless 
 death would have followed if he had been 
 found. 
 
 He could scarcely find footing in that 
 road, for the corpses of murdered men that 
 were strewed there, which came to a shame- 
 ful end through the great Princess Pride. 
 As he rode underneath the castle wall, he 
 spied a great heap of carcasses, the dread- 
 ful spectacle of that sad house of Pride. 
 
 [74] 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 UNA, HAVING BEEN CARRIED OFF BY 
 SANSLOY, IS RESCUED BY THE WOOD- 
 FOLK. — SHE LIVES WITH THEM A WHILE. — 
 SIR SATYRANE COMES TO HER HELP.— HE 
 FIGHTS WITH SANSLOY. — UNA ESCAPES. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 HE Redcross Knight was 
 as glad of his escape as a 
 sailor when his ship has 
 passed a dangerous rock. 
 Yet he was sad that his 
 hasty flight had forced 
 him to leave the fair 
 Duessa behind, for he still 
 did not know how evil she was. He was 
 yet more sad when he thought of Una, and 
 how, as he believed, he had been deceived 
 by her. 
 
 Whereas Una, for the love of him, had 
 wandered from one end of the land to the 
 other, seeking him, until she had been cap- 
 tured by the fierce Sansloy, who after the 
 defeat of Archimago^ led her away into a 
 wild forest. There she was in great dis- 
 tress and despaired of help. 
 
 At last the piteous maiden threw out 
 thrilling shrieks, the last vain help of 
 
 %^ 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 woman's great distress, and with loud 
 plaints prayed the skies. But the eternal 
 Providence can make a way where none 
 appears. A wondrous way was made for 
 this Lady, when the Lion came to her help. 
 And now her shrill outcries and shrieks re- 
 sounded through all the woods and forests. 
 And it chanced that a troop of wild wood- 
 people, the Fauns and Satyrs, were dancing 
 round far away within the wood, while 
 their god Sylvanus slept soundly in a shady 
 arbor. When they heard that piteous voice, 
 they forsook in haste their rural mirth to 
 learn what wight lamented so loudly. They 
 came running to the place. 
 
 And when the Saracen saw these rude, 
 misshapen folk, whose like he had never 
 seen before, he dared not tarry, but got 
 upon his ready steed and began to rapidly 
 ride away. These wild folk found the vir- 
 gin doleful and desolate, with ruffled gar- 
 ments, and fair face wet with tears, as her 
 foe had left her. They stood amazed at so 
 sad a sight, and began to pity her unhappy 
 state. They stood astonished at her bright 
 beauty, so undeserving, in their rude eyes, 
 of such a plight. 
 
 She was more amazed than they, and 
 
 trembled for fear. She had such a fit of 
 
 [78] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 trembling, and spoke no word, so that the 
 savage folk felt her pain and read her sor- 
 row in her sad face. Though their fore- 
 heads were clad with rough horns^ they 
 gently smiled, and, to put away her fear, 
 they bent their knees to show that they 
 would obey her. She was uncertain 
 whether she could trust herself to them or 
 no. But they, in pity for her tender youth, 
 and wondering at her beauty, fell upon the 
 lowly plain and kissed her feet. 
 
 Their hearts she guessed by these acts, 
 and she fearlessly rose from the ground and 
 walked among them without suspicion. 
 They were as glad as birds at dawn, and 
 led her forth, dancing about her, shouting 
 and singing shepherds' songs, strewing the 
 ground with green branches, and crown- 
 ing her with an olive garland, they wor- 
 shipped her as their Queen. 
 
 Sounding their merry pipes, so that the 
 woods rang with the echo, wearing the 
 ground with their horny feet, they leaped 
 like lambs in the Springtime. So they 
 brought her toward their old god, Sylvanus, 
 who, wakened from his sleep, came out to 
 learn the cause of the noise. Leaning upon 
 his cypress staff, and with his waist girt 
 about with ivy, he came wondering what 
 
 {79] 
 
« 
 
 THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 made them so glad. And they drawing 
 nigh presented Una to their God. He stood 
 long amazed, beholding her beauty. 
 
 The woods people fell flat before her, and 
 worshipped her as Goddess of the woods, 
 while old Sylvanus doubted if she was of 
 earthly birth. The wood Nymphs, the 
 Hamadryads, ran thither to behold her, 
 a»d all the troop of light-footed Naiads 
 flocked about to see her lovely face. But 
 when they viewed her heavenly beauty, they 
 envied her and fled away. But all the 
 . Satyrs scorned their woody kind and hence- 
 lN forth found nothing fair on earth but Una. 
 
 Glad of such good fortune, the lucky maid 
 contented herself to please their eyes, and 
 for a long time stayed with that savage 
 people to gather breath from her troubles, 
 during which time she plied her gentle wit 
 to teach them truth, and to keep them from 
 worshipping her. But when she restrained 
 them from her own worship, they would 
 have fain worshipped the lowly animal she 
 rode, the Ass. 
 
 It happened one day that a noble, war- 
 like knight, named Sir Satyrane, who had 
 been born there, came to that forest to seek 
 his kindred. He had won much fame abroad 
 in arms, and filled far lands with the glory 
 [80] 
 
 / 
 
iJ 
 
 THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 of his deeds. He was plain, faithful, true, 
 and ever loved to fight for the rights of 
 ladies, but he took no pleasure in vain- 
 glorious battles. He was a Satyr's son, 
 born in the wild forest; but his mother was 
 a Lady, who was bound in sacred wedlock 
 to Therion, a loose, unruly swain, who had 
 more joy to range the wide forest and chase 
 the savage beast than serve his Lady. 
 
 He was nursed in the wild life and 
 manners among wild beasts and woods. He 
 was taught to banish fear and cowardice, 
 and forced to put his trembling hand upon 
 the Lion and the rugged Bear, and to tear 
 her cubs from the Bear's den, and to tame 
 wild Bulls and ride their backs, and to over- 
 take the Roebucks in their flight, so that 
 every beast flew from him in fear. Thereby 
 he grew so fearless that his own sire often 
 trembled before him. And to prove his 
 power he complied wild beasts to work 
 under iron yokes. He had such joy to tame 
 their stubborn hearts. 
 
 His loving mother, who had been sent 
 away, when he was a child, to her own 
 home, came one day into the woods to see 
 her little son, and chanced to meet him in 
 the way when he was carrying a Lion's cubs 
 in his rugged arms, and lulling them with- 
 [8i] 
 
 ^^ 
 
 f. 
 
 TO 
 
 / / i V ! 
 
 /i 
 
 Rw ^ 
 
 
 IC^ 
 
 \V 
 
 \a]Wj 
 
-^^^==3^ 
 
 THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 out fear, and after him the Lioness was run- 
 ning, roaring with rage. His timid mother 
 quaked with fear, and turning back began 
 to flee, until he called her kindly and per- 
 suaded her to stay. And then she began 
 with these womanish words to say, "Oh, 
 Satyrane, my darling, and my joy, leave 
 off for love of me this dreadful play. It is 
 not fit to dally thus with death. Go find 
 some other play-fellow. 
 
 In these delights, he was trained until he 
 reached riper years. Then his heart de- 
 sired to be known by foreign foes, and he 
 sought far abroad for strange adventures. 
 Yet evermore it was his custom, after long 
 labors and adventures to repair to his 
 native woods, to see his sire. And now he 
 had come thither for this purpose, when he 
 found the fair Una, a strange Lady, teach- 
 ing the Satyrs, who sat around her, true, 
 holy learning, from her sweet lips. 
 
 He wondered at her fair, heavenly wis- 
 dom, such as he had never known in 
 women, and began to admire her and pity 
 her sorrows. He blamed fortune, which put 
 such troubles upon a gentle Lady, who was 
 so harmless and true. Thenceforth he kept 
 her goodly company, and learned from her 
 faith and truth. But she, being vowed to 
 [82] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 the Redcross Knight^ ever lamented his 
 perils, nor could delight in a new acquaint- 
 ance. But she tormented her dear heart, 
 and spent all her wit secretly to know how 
 to escape from that wood. 
 
 At last she secretly told Satyrane her de- 
 sire, and he, glad to please her, began to 
 plan how he might take that passive maid 
 away. So on a day when all the Satyrs were 
 gone to do homage to old Sylvanus, their 
 god, he with stout, bold heart led away the 
 gentle virgin, who had been left behind. 
 So fast he carried her that they were soon 
 past the woods and came to the open 
 plain. 
 
 They had travelled now the greater part 
 of the day, when they spied a weary man 
 wandering by the way, and toward him 
 they began to ride hastily to learn what 
 news had happened abroad, or to get 
 tidings of the Redcross Knight. But he, 
 spying them, began to turn aside, as if he 
 feared them. But they rode fast, and soon 
 crossed his path. He seemed a silly man, 
 and was dressed in simple old clothes, 
 soiled by the dust of the long way. His 
 sandals were torn with toilsome travel, and 
 his face was tanned with the scorching rays 
 of the sun, as if he had travelled many hot 
 
 [83] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 days through the broiling sands of Arabia 
 or India. In his hand he bore a staff to 
 stay his weary limbs upon. And behind he 
 bore a bag, in which he carried what he 
 needed. 
 
 Satyrane, approaching near, inquired of 
 him tidings of war and of new adventures, 
 but he said he had heard nothing of these. 
 Then Una began to ask if he knew aught of 
 her champion, who bore on his armor a red 
 cross. 
 
 "Ah me, dear Dame," he said, "well may 
 I rue to tell the sad sight which my eyes 
 have seen. These eyes did see that Knight 
 both living and dead." 
 
 That cruel word so thrilled her heart, that 
 ! suddenly the cold ran through every vein, 
 and all her senses were filled with horror, 
 so that down she fell. The knight lightly 
 lifted her up again, and comforted her with 
 courteous words. Then the stranger said, 
 "I chanced on that fatal day to see two 
 knights on my way, arranged for battle, 
 both breathing vengeance. Mj' flesh 
 trembled at the strife, to see their swords 
 so greedily drink each other's blood. What 
 more? The Redcross Knight was slain by 
 the Saracen's knife." 
 
 "Ah, dearest Lord," said she, "how might 
 [84] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 that be, when he was the stoutest knight 
 who ever won a fight?" 
 
 "Ah, dearest Dame," he said, "yet this 
 was done." 
 
 "Where," said Satyrane, "is that Saracen, 
 that took from him Hfe and from us joy?" 
 
 "He is not far away," he said, "I left him 
 but late near a fountain, where he was 
 washing his bloody wounds, that were cleft 
 by the steel." 
 
 Therewith Satyrane marched forth in 
 haste, while Una, oppressed with grief, 
 could not follow fast for sorrow. And soon 
 he came where the Saracen rested himself 
 by the side of a fountain. And it was he 
 who had oppressed the fair Una. When 
 Satyrane saw him, he boldly defied him 
 with reproachful words, saying, "Arise, 
 thou cursed Miscreant, who dost boast that 
 thou hast slain the good Knight of the Red- 
 cross. Arise and maintain thy guilty 
 wrong, or else yield to me." 
 
 The Saracen, hearing this, arose at once, 
 and catching up his shield, and helmet, 
 buckled himself for the field. And draw- 
 ing near, he said, "In an evil hour your foes 
 sent you here to punish another's wrongs. 
 Yet you blame me ill. The Redcross Knight 
 I never slew, but had he been behind the 
 [85] 
 
 r 
 
 K2/\ 
 
 
 K 
 
 \\ 
 
 S 
 OT 
 
 %/ "^ 
 
 </. -^.! 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 shield I thought was his, the enchanter 
 Archimago would not rue his error. But 
 you, I hope, shall prove his error true." 
 
 Therewith they began furiously to thun^ 
 der blows, and fiercely to assail each other. 
 They were so bent to quell each his foe 
 that with their force they pierced their 
 armor and made wide furrows in their 
 flesh, that any living eye would have pitied. 
 So long they fought, pursuing revenge, that 
 they were compelled to take time to 
 breathe and then, refreshed, they renewed 
 the battle. 
 
 So fiercely when these knights had 
 breathed once, did they return to the fight, 
 increasing their force and cruel rage with 
 mighty strokes, that with their dreadful 
 wounds and bloody gore they both could 
 scarcely be known. 
 
 By this, the sad Una, led by their noise, 
 arrived where they had sown the earth 
 with their blood. And her, when the proud 
 Saracen spied, he left the battle hastily to 
 catch her, newly offered to his eye. But 
 Satyrane turned him with his strokes, and 
 sternly bade him ply other business than 
 hunting the steps of a maid. Then the 
 Saracen cried, "O, foolish man, what mad 
 fury has led you to your fate? Were it not 
 [86] 
 
T^E FAERY QUEEN 
 
 better that I had the Lady tlia^ 
 should repent too late? Senseless man to 
 hate himself. Lo, then for your aid, take 
 this lover's token on your head." 
 
 So they return to fight, while the royal 
 Maid fled far away, through fear of that 
 proud Saracen. 
 
 But that false stranger, who told of the 
 death of the Redcross Knight, was indeed 
 Archimago, and he stayed in the shadow 
 and much rejoiced in the bloody fight. But 
 when he saw the damsel pass away, he left 
 his place and pursued her in hope to yet 
 bring her to her end. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE REDCROSS KNIGHT DRINKS OF A 
 FOUNTAIN THAT WEAKENS HIM. — HE 
 BATTLES WITH A GIANT AND IS OVER- 
 COME. ^ HE IS CAST INTO PRISON. — THE 
 DWARF CARRIES THE NEWS TO UNA. — 
 UNA MEETS PRINCE ARTHUR, WHO 
 PROMISES TO FREE HER KNIGHT. 
 
HEN the fair but foul 
 Duessa returned with 
 Night and came to the 
 House of Pride and found 
 that the noble Redcross 
 Knight, her hoped prey, 
 had gone, she would no 
 longer abide there, but 
 went forth to seek him. Ere long she found 
 him where he sat wearily to rest himself 
 beside a fountain. He had disarmed him- 
 self of his iron coat, and by his side his 
 steed ate the grassy forage. 
 
 The Knight was bathing his sweating ,,j. y 
 forehead in the breathing wind, which ,^ .-^• 
 played gently through the trembling leaves, ^^fi^/f 
 There the cheerful birds of many kinds 
 chanted music to delight him. The witch 
 Duessa approaching him, greeted him 
 fairly, and upbraided him for his unkind- 
 ness in leaving her in the palace of Pride; 
 [91] 
 
 ^^^ 
 
 ja^ 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 but she mixed fair words with harsh ones. 
 Then forgetting unkindness, they began to 
 talk of pleasant things and to bathe in 
 the joyous shade, which shielded them 
 from the boiling heat and decked with 
 green boughs the fountain, as with a gar- 
 land. 
 
 The bubbling waves of this fountain 
 welled up freshly always, nor ever were 
 dried up through the fervent summer; but 
 the sacred Nymph, who was wont to dwell 
 there, was under the displeasure of Diana. 
 
 The cause was this: one day when the 
 fair Phoebe was following the chase with 
 all her band, this Nymph, tired with the 
 heat, sat down to rest in the midst of the 
 race. The Goddess was angry, and to dis- 
 grace her bade the waters of her fountain 
 , to be like herself. Henceforth these waters 
 were dull and slow, and all that drank of 
 them became faint and feeble. 
 
 Of this the Redcross Knight knew noth- 
 ing, and lying down upon the sand he 
 drank of the stream, as clear as glass. And 
 soon his manly force began to fail, and his 
 mighty strength was turned to feebleness. 
 Yet he still paid court to his Dame, care- 
 less of his health and of his fame. At last 
 he heard a dreadful sound which bellowed 
 [92] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 through the woods, so that the earth seemed 
 to shake for terror, and the trees trembled. 
 The Knight was therewith astonished, 
 started up lightly, and began to take in 
 hand his unready weapons. 
 
 But before he could deck himself with 
 his armor or get his shield, his monstrous 
 enemy, a hideous Giant, high and horrible, 
 came stalking near with sturdy steps. With 
 his tallness he seemed to threaten the sky, 
 and the ground groaned under him for fear. 
 His like no eye ever saw. His stature ex- 
 ceeded the height of three of the tallest men. 
 The great Earth was his mother, and the 
 wind -ffiolus was his sire. He was so big, 
 and he was so proud of his high descent 
 that he scorned all other powers and 
 knighthood. He carried in his hand an 
 oak tree, which he had torn up by the roots, 
 and used it as his club. 
 
 When he spied the Knight, he began to 
 advance with dreadful fury. The Knight 
 in vain ran to array himself for battle, but 
 he was disarmed, disgraced, and inwardly 
 dismayed, and so faint in every joint, 
 through using the waters of that fountain, 
 that he could scarcely wield his sword. The 
 Giant struck at him so mercilessly, that his 
 blow would have overthrown a tower. 
 [93I 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 But he was wary of that deadly blow and 
 lightly leaped aside, yet the wind of the 
 blow was so exceedingly powerful that he 
 was overthrown and lay stunned upon the 
 ground. 
 
 His heavy hand the Giant heaved on high 
 and would have quite battered the Knight 
 to dust, but Duessa began to cry, *'0, great 
 Orgoglio, hold your deadly hand for a 
 lady's sake. Hold for my sake, and slay 
 him not, but make hint your eternal bond- 
 slave, and take me as your love." 
 
 He listened, and stayed his hand from 
 further harms. Then up he took the sense- 
 less body of the Knight, and, before he 
 awakened from his swoon, brought him 
 hastily to his castle, and threw him into a 
 deep dungeon. And to Duessa he gave 
 gold and purple to wear, and a triple crown 
 for her head. And to make her feared of 
 men, he chose a monstrous beast that he 
 had long kept in a den, an ugly monster, 
 with seven great heads, an iron breast, and 
 back of scaly brass. Its tail was stretched 
 out in wondrous length. Upon this dread- 
 ful beast he set the false Duessa, for awe 
 and dread. 
 
 The woeful Dwarf, when he saw his 
 master's fall, had been keeping his grazing 
 [94] 
 

 THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 horse. When the valiant Knight was cast 
 into the prison, the Dwarf took his mighty 
 armor, his silver shield, his sharp spear, 
 and departed with them to tell his friends 
 of his distress. He had not travelled long, 
 when on the way he met the sad Una flee- 
 ing from the Saracen, while Satyrane kept 
 him from pursuit. When Una set her eyes 
 on the Dwarf, and saw him travelling alone 
 with the armor of his master, she fell to the 
 ground, knowing some great misfortune 
 had happened to the Redcross Knight. 
 
 The Dwarf was sad at the unhappy news , 
 he must tell, but he recovered heart and vL 
 rubbed her temples, and raised her thrice 
 from her swoons. At last with faltering 
 tongue, she bade him tell the woeful tale. 
 Then the Dwarf declared the whole story 
 of the subtle tricks of Archimago: he told 
 how Duessa had been taken from the van^ls 
 quished Saracen; of the wretched pair 
 turned into trees; of the House of Pride 
 and the perils thereof; of the combat with 
 Sansjoy ; and of the conflict with the Giant, 
 who had made the Knight his captive. 
 
 Una heard all this with patience to the 
 end, but her heart was almost rent in twain. 
 At last she rose up, resolving to find her 
 Knight alive or deado And forward they 
 [95] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 went, as the Dwarf pointed out the way. 
 High over the hills and low down in the 
 valleys, she wandered. 
 
 At last she chanced by good fortune to 
 meet a goodly knight, who was marching 
 by the way, and with him was his squire, 
 fitly arrayed. His armor shone far off, like 
 the brightest rays of the sun. From top to 
 toe no point was exposed that could be 
 pierced by the steel of an enemy. Across 
 his breast he wore a brave belt, that shone 
 like stars with rare and precious stones. 
 And in the midst thereof was one precious 
 stone of wondrous worth, shaped like a 
 lady's head. By his belt hung his deadly 
 sword, in an ivory shield, carved curiously; 
 the hilt was burnished gold, and the handle 
 mother of pearl. His haughty helmet was 
 all gold, causing terror because of its 
 brightness; on the crest was a Dragon, 
 with greedy paws, and over it all were 
 spread its golden wings; its head, close 
 couched on the beaver, seemed to throw 
 red sparks from its flaming mouth ; and the 
 scaly tail was stretched low down his back. 
 
 Upon the top of his lofty crest was a 
 bunch of many colored hairs, sprinkled 
 with pearls and gold, and this shook and 
 danced as if for jollity. 
 [96] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 His warlike shield was all closely cov- 
 ered, nor might be seen by mortal eye. It 
 was not made of steel, nor of enduring 
 brass, as such earthly metals are soon 
 rusted away; but it was framed of one 
 mighty Diamond, perfect and pure, so that 
 no point of a spear could pierce it, nor 
 blow of sword divide it. This, its owner, 
 who was the great Prince Arthur, never re- 
 vealed to any foe, unless he would dismay 
 some huge monster, or daunt whole armies, 
 and then he would use it to terrify them. 
 No magic arts had any power over it; and 
 all things that were not what they seemed 
 faded away before that shield. And when 
 he would confound rascals, he could by its 
 means turn men into stone and stones into 
 dust, and dust to nothing. And when he 
 would subdue the proud, he would blind 
 them by the sight of it, or change them into 
 other colors. 
 
 This shield, with the sword and armor, 
 were made for Prince Arthur by Merlin, 
 who excelled all men in magic. 
 
 A gentle youth, his dearly loved squire, 
 bore behind him his spear of ebony, whose 
 head, three times heated in the flames, had 
 riven many a breast. He was a goodly 
 person, who could fairly manage his stub- 
 [97] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 born steed with a curbed bit, that chafed 
 that any should sit on his back. 
 
 When Arthur drew near to this Lady, he 
 began to greet her courteously, and when 
 he heard her unwilling answers he saw that 
 some secret sorrow distressed her heart. 
 And to calm her pain, he spoke fair, feeling 
 words fitted to her humor, to tempt her to 
 tell the cause of her sorrow. 
 
 His goodly reason and his well-guided 
 speech settled so deeply in her gracious 
 thought, that she was persuaded to dis- 
 close the hurt that love and fortune had 
 made in her heart, and she said, "Fair Sir, 
 I hope good fortune has brought you to in- 
 quire the secret of my grief, or that your 
 wisdom may direct me, or your courage 
 yield me relief. Then hear my sad story." 
 
 Then she told Arthur that she was the 
 daughter of a great queen and king whose 
 cruel enemy, a huge great Dragon, had 
 ravaged their land, and forced her parents 
 to flee for safety into a strong castle with 
 mighty brass wails, where he had kept 
 them besieged now for four years. She 
 said that many knights had come to slay 
 this monster, but they had all failed in this 
 hard achievement. At last she had been 
 led by their fame to seek the help of some 
 [98] 
 
i THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 fl of the doughty knights that lived in Fairy 
 land, and she had gone to the court of 
 Gloriana, to obtain some such redoubted 
 knight, that he might deliver her dear 
 parents from their tyrant's power. There 
 she had found a fresh, unproved knight, 
 whose manly hands had never been imbued 
 in blood, but that he had since shown his 
 prowess in many a bloody fight. She said 
 that the armor and weapons that the Dwarf 
 bore could tell his deeds. She had hoped 
 from his fair beginnings that he could re- 
 deem her captives, till an Enchanter had 
 deceived him and made him doubt her 
 loyalty, so that he henceforth forsook her 
 and left her to wander where wild fortune 
 led her. He had taken himself by other 
 ways, in which he met the false Duessa, 
 her only foe, who with her witchcraft had 
 inveigled him to follow her. At last Duessa 
 had betrayed him and thrown him as cap- 
 tive into a dungeon. "This is my cause of 
 grief,'' she said, "more great than may be 
 told." 
 
 Before she had ended she began to faint, 
 but Arthur comforted her and said, "Truly, 
 Madame, you have great cause for grief, 
 that would cause > the stoutest heart to 
 quake. But be of good cheer, and take 
 
 [99] 
 
 > 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 PRINCE ARTHUR BATTLES WITH THE 
 GIANT AND SLAYS HIM.— HE DELIVERS 
 THE REDCROSS KNIGHT FROM PRISON 
 AND RESTORES HIM TO UNA. — THEY UN- 
 MASK THE WITCH DUESSA AND DRIVE 
 HER AWAY. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 HEY sadly travelled thus 
 until they came near a 
 strong and high castle, 
 when the Dwarf cried, 
 " Lo, yonder is the place, 
 in which my lord lies cap- 
 tive to that Giant's ty- 
 ranny. Therefore, dear 
 sir, try your mighty powers." 
 
 The noble knight by-and-by alighted 
 from his lofty steed, and bade the Lady 
 wait there to see the end of the fight. So, 
 with his Squire, Arthur marched toward 
 the castle, whose gates he found shut fast, 
 with no one to guard them nor to answer 
 a call. 
 
 Then the Squire took the bugle that hiing 
 in twisted gold and gay tassels by his side. 
 Great wonders of that horn were told. No 
 man ever heard that sound but he trembled 
 in every vein. Three miles around it might 
 [103] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 easily be heard, and three echoes answered 
 again. No false enchantment might once 
 abide the terror of that blast. There was 
 no gate so strong, no lock so fast and firm 
 but would burst or fly open with that 
 piercing noise. 
 
 The same he blew before the Giant's 
 gate, so that all the castle quaked from the 
 ground, and every door flew open of its 
 own free will. The Giant himself was dis- 
 mayed with that sound, and in haste came 
 rushing from an inner room, with staring, 
 stern countenance, and staggering steps, to 
 know what sudden peril had dared his 
 dreaded power. 
 
 And after him the proud Duessa came, 
 high mounted on her many-headed beast, 
 every head flaming with a fiery tongue, and 
 his mouth bloody from a late feast. And 
 when the knight beheld him, he soon placed 
 his mighty shield upon his manly arm and 
 flew fiercely at him, filled with courage and 
 thrilling eagerness in every limb. 
 
 Therewith the Giant buckled him to 
 fight, inflamed with a scornful wrath, and 
 lifting up his dreadful club on high, all 
 armed with ragged knots, he thought to 
 have slain him at the first encounter. But 
 the noble prince was wise and wary, and 
 [104] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 leaped lightly aside from so monstrous a 
 blow, for he could not endure such a thun- 
 derbolt. Nor was it shame to shun such 
 hideous force. The dire stroke, missing its 
 mark, fell to the ground, and was so deeply 
 driven into the clay that it ploughed up a 
 furrow three yards deep. The earth groaned 
 underneath the blow, and trembled with 
 strange fear as from an earthquake. 
 
 His boisterous club was so buried in the 
 ground that the Giant could not lightly lift 
 it up again; and the Knight found his foe 
 at disadvantage. And while he strove to 
 get his club out of the earth, Arthur with 
 his sword, all burning bright, smote off his 
 left arm, which fell like a block to the earth. 
 Large streams of blood gushed forth like 
 waters from a riven rock. Dismayed with 
 so desperate a wound, and angry at the un- 
 wonted pain, he loudly brayed, so that all 
 the fields rebellowed again. 
 
 And when his dear Duessa heard this 
 noise, and saw the evil blow that endan- 
 gered her lord, she hastily drew to his 
 aid her dreadful beast. He came ramping 
 forth, and threatened with all his heads as 
 if they were fiery brands. But the Squire 
 fiercely encountering him with his single 
 sword, made him quickly retreat, and 
 [105] 
 
^ 
 
 THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 stood between him and Arthur like a 
 bulwark. 
 
 The proud Duessa, full of wrath at being 
 affronted so^ forced her beast forward with 
 all her power that he might cast down this 
 man out of the way, for she scorned to be 
 stopped by so unequal a foe. But that 
 courageous Squire would not yield her pas- 
 sage to go against his lord, but with terri- 
 ble strokes restrained him, and barred the 
 way with his body. 
 
 Then the angry witch took her golden 
 cup, which she carried filled with magic 
 stuff, death and despair and secret poison. 
 And when she had said some magic words, 
 she lightly sprinkled this upon the Squire, 
 so that his senses were dismayed with sud- 
 den fear. So down he fell before the cruel 
 beast, who seized on his neck with his 
 bloody claws and nearly crushed the life 
 out of his panting breast. He had no power 
 to stir nor will to rise. 
 
 This when Prince Arthur saw he lightly 
 left the Giant with whom he fought, and 
 turned his enterprise toward the beast, for 
 great anguish was in his heart to see his be- 
 loved Squire brought to such peril. And 
 high advancing his blood-thirsty blade he 
 struck one of the deformed heads of the 
 [io6] , 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 i 
 
 h 
 
 L 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 dragon, tearing his monstrous scalp down 
 to his teeth. A sea of blood gushed from 
 the gaping wound, that stained Duessa's 
 gay garments with filthy gore and over- 
 flowed all the field, where Arthur waded in 
 blood over his shoes. 
 
 Whereat the Dragon roared for exceed- 
 ing pain and, whipping the empty air with 
 his great tail, he would have cast down his 
 gorgeous rider from her lofty place, had 
 not the Giant helped her; for he, enraged 
 with pain and frantic wrath, came rushing 
 up and forced Arthur to retire. Then put- 
 ting all his force into his one hand, he 
 lifted his club aloft and smote at his foe 
 with such furious strength that he would 
 have overthrown the strongest oak. The 
 stroke alighted upon Arthur's shield, so 
 that it doubled him low to the ground. And 
 in his fall, his shield, that had been covered, 
 lost its veil and flew open. The light of it 
 was brighter than the sun; such blazing 
 brightness flew through the air that no eye 
 could endure the sight. Which when the 
 Giant saw, he let his arm fall down, and 
 withdrew his weapon that was lifted on 
 high to have slain the man that lay on the 
 ground. 
 
 Also the many-headed beast, amazed at 
 [107] 
 
 u 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 the flashing beams of that sunny shield, be- 
 came stark blind so that down he tumbled 
 on the earth and seemed to submit himself 
 as conquered. When his proud mistress 
 saw him fall, she cried loudly to the Giant, 
 *'0 ! help, Orgoglio, help or we perish." 
 
 At her piteous cry her stout champion 
 was much moved, and to aid his friend he 
 tried his angry weapon, but all in vain, for 
 he had met his end in that bright shield, 
 and all his forces spent themselves in vain. 
 Since he looked on that shield, he had no 
 power to hurt nor to defend himself, more 
 than when the Almighty's lightning brand 
 dims the dazed eyes and terrifies the senses. 
 
 And when Prince Arthur addressed him- 
 self anew to the battle and threatened high 
 his dreadful stroke, he blessed his sparkling 
 blade about his head, and smote off the 
 Giant's right leg by the knee, so that he 
 tumbled down, like an aged tree falling 
 from the top of a rocky hill, or a castle 
 undermined from the foundation. Such was 
 this Giant's fall, that seemed to shake the 
 steadfast earth. 
 
 Then Arthur, lightly leaping on his prey, 
 smote him again with his deadly steely cut- 
 ting his head from his unwieldy body. 
 There he wallowed in his own foul, bloody 
 [io8] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 gore, which flowed from his wounds in 
 wondrous streams. 
 
 When the false Duessa saw his grievous 
 fall, she cast her golden cup to the ground 
 and threw her mitre rudely aside. Such 
 piercing grief wounded her heart that she 
 could not endure that sad blow, but leaving 
 all behind her, turned to flee away. But the 
 light-footed Squire quickly turned her about 
 and brought her as a captive to his master. 
 
 When the royal virgin, Una, saw from 
 afar the whole of this doubtful war, she 
 came running fast to greet the conqueror 
 with sober gladness and mild modesty. And 
 with sweet, joyous face she spoke : " Fair 
 branch of nobility, flower of chivalry, that 
 have amazed the world with your worthy 
 how shall I reward you for the pains you 
 have suffered for my sake? And you, 
 young Squire, fresh bud of virtue, whom 
 these eyes saw near death's door, what has 
 a poor virgin wherewith to reward you for 
 such perils? Accept, therefore, my service 
 evermore. And may God, who sees all 
 things with equal eye, behold what you 
 have done this day for me. But since the 
 heavens have made you master of the field, 
 may all end well. Nor do you let that 
 wicked woman escape, for she it is that en- 
 [109] 
 
A 
 
 THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 thralled my lord, and laid him in a deep 
 dungeon, where he has wasted his days. Oh, 
 hear how piteously he calls to you for help." 
 
 Forthwith, Arthur gave Duessa in charge 
 of his Squire to keep her carefully while he 
 himself with great desire entered forcibly 
 into the castle, where he saw no living 
 creature. Then he began to call loudly 
 through the house, but no man answered 
 to his cry; a solemn silence reigned. 
 
 At last there came forth with creeping 
 pace an old, old man, whose beard was 
 white as snow, who leaned on a staff and 
 walked with feeble steps. His eyesight had 
 failed him long ago. On his arm he bore a 
 bunch of keys that were overgrown with 
 rust. He was a very uncouth sight to be- 
 hold, as he came forward with unsteady 
 steps; for as he walked forward his face 
 was turned backward. This was the ancient 
 keeper of the castle, and the foster father of 
 the dead Giant, and his name was Ignaro. 
 
 His gray hairs were honored by the 
 knight, who gently asked him where all 
 the people were who were used to live in 
 that stately house, but the solemn old man 
 answered only that he could not tell. Again 
 he asked where the captive knight was 
 kept; and again he said he could not tell. 
 
 / 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 Then the Knight asked which way he 
 might pass, but was given for reply only 
 that he could not tell. 
 
 Thereat the courteous Arthur was dis- 
 pleased, and said, "Old sire, it seems you 
 have not considered how unfit it is for gray 
 hairs to mock or to be mocked. But if you 
 are the old man you seem, I demand of you 
 to answer me in more courteous way." His 
 reply again was, he could not tell. This 
 senseless speech, when the Prince had 
 noted well, he guessed his nature by his 
 face, and calmed his wrath, for he saw the 
 old man was a dotard. Then stepping to 
 him, he took the keys from his arm, and 
 made himself free entrance. He opened 
 each door, for there was no bar to stop him, 
 nor any foe. 
 
 Within the rooms, he found all richly ar- 
 rayed with arras and gold, and abounding 
 with stores of everything that the greatest 
 princes could desire. But all the floor was 
 covered with the blood of innocent babes. 
 Arthur sought through every room, but 
 could find nowhere that woeful captive. 
 
 At last he came to an iron door that was 
 locked fast, and found no key on that bunch 
 to open it. But in the door was a little 
 grating, through which he sent his voice, 
 [uxL 
 
 ^-J 
 
 6 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 and loudly called with all his power to 
 know if any living man were there whom 
 he might set free. Therewith a hollow, 
 murmuring voice replied with piteous 
 sounds, *'Oh, who is that who brings me the 
 happy choice of death, that lie here living 
 in baleful darkness? Now three moons 
 have changed their hue since I looked upon 
 the cheerful heavens. Oh, welcome you, 
 who bring tidings of death." 
 
 When Arthur heard this, his heart was 
 thrilled sore with pity, and horror ran 
 through every joint for compassion of that 
 gentle knight. Then shaking off this 
 thought, he rent that iron gate with furious 
 force, but when he entered in he could find 
 no floor, but only a steep descent, dark and 
 breathing forth a foul smell. But neither 
 foul darkness nor noxious smell could 
 hold him from his purpose, but with 
 courage bold he found the means to lift up 
 that prisoner, whose feeble thighs, unable 
 to uphold his body, scarcely could bear him 
 to the light. Indeed, he was a pitiful spec- 
 tacle of death and ghastliness. 
 
 His sad, dull eyes were sunk in hollow 
 pits, and could not endure to look upon the 
 sun. His cheeks were bare and thin, his 
 sides were so empty that a heart of stone 
 
 [112] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 would have pitied him. His raw-boned 
 arms, whose mighty muscles were wont to 
 rive steel plates and hew helmets, were 
 wasted away. All his vital forces were de- 
 cayed, and his flesh was shrunk up like 
 withered flowers. 
 
 And when his Lady saw him, she ran to 
 him with joy. To see him made her glad, 
 and yet she was sad to see his face so pale 
 and wan, who formerly was clad in flowers 
 of freshest youth. When she had wasted a 
 well of tears, she said, "Ah, dearest lord, 
 what evil star frowned on you, that you are 
 thus robbed of yourself? But welcome 
 now, my lord, in weal or woe, whose pres- 
 ence I have lacked too long. Fortune for 
 these wrongs will pay penance of good. 
 Good grows out of evil." 
 
 "Fair Lady," then said the victorious 
 Arthur, "to do again the things that 
 grieved breeds no delight. The good that 
 grows from evils past is to be wise, and to 
 beware of the like again. This day's ex- 
 ample has written this dear lesson deep in 
 my heart with an iron pen, that happiness 
 does not abide with mortals. Henceforth, 
 Sir Knight, regain your strength, and 
 master your misfortunes with patient 
 might. Lo, where your foes lie stretched 
 
 [113] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 before you. Lo, that wicked woman, who 
 was the root of all your wretchedness, is 
 now in your power, to let her live or die." 
 
 "To put her to death," said Una, ^*were 
 wrong, and it were shame to take revenge 
 upon so weak an enemy. But take from 
 her her scarlet robes and let her go." 
 
 So, as she said, they took from that witch 
 her royal robes and purple pall, and rich 
 ornaments. And then she was seen to be 
 a loathsome, wrinkled hag, ill-favored, 
 old; a more ugly shape no living creature 
 ever saw. 
 
 And when the knights beheld her, they 
 were amazed, and wondered at her foul de- 
 formity. "Such then," said Una, "as she 
 seems here, such is the face of falsehood. 
 Such is foul Duessa when her borrowed 
 light is taken away, and her real self 
 known." Thus when they had shown her 
 filthy features, they let her go at her own 
 will, and wander into unknown ways. She 
 fled fast to the wilderness, to hide her 
 shame from living eyes, and lurked in 
 rocks and caves. 
 
 Then the knights and fair Una abode in 
 that castle for a time, to rest themselves, 
 and there they found great stores of rare 
 dainties for their health. 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 4 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 ST. GEORGE AND UNA NOW COME TO HER 
 NATIVE LAND. — THE GREAT DRAGON AT- 
 TACKS THE KNIGHT. — ST. GEORGE IS 
 TWICE OVERTHROWN, BUT IS HEALED BY 
 A WELL AND A TREE. — ON THE THIRD 
 DAY HE SLAYS THE DREADFUL DRAGON. 
 
HEN their strength was 
 recovered somewhat, and 
 the weak captive Redcross 
 Knight had grown a little u 
 stronger, they thought 
 they must no longer dwell 
 there at leisure, but go 
 forward to other adven- 
 tures. But before Prince Arthur left them 
 he told them of his love for Gloriana, the 
 Fairy Queen, and that for nine months he 
 had been seeking her. These two knights, to 
 bind their friendship and to establish true 
 love, gave goodly gifts, and as firm pledges 
 joined their right hands together. Prince 
 Arthur gave the Redcross Knight a 
 Diamond box in which were a few drops of 
 wondrous liquid that could heal any wound. 
 And in return the Redcross Knight gave 
 Arthur a book, wherein his Saviour's testa- 
 ment was written with brave gold letters. 
 [117] 
 
 ^3^ 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 Thus they parted, Arthur going on his 
 way to seek his love, and the other to fight 
 with Una's foe. But Una, thinking of her 
 Knight's shrunken sinews, would not bring 
 him into a dreadful fight until he had re- 
 covered his former health. 
 
 And as they travelled, she brought him 
 to an ancient house not far away, renowned 
 throughout the world, where a wise matron 
 dwelt whose only joy was to relieve the 
 needs of wretched souls and aid the help- 
 less poor. In this House of Holiness they 
 dwelt awhile. And there in quiet and in 
 reading the Redcross Knight gained 
 strength and was comforted. 
 
 And there an aged man told him many 
 curious things about the people from whom 
 he sprang, and that he was of the English 
 race, and descended from Saxon kings. He 
 said, **Seek the path that I show, which 
 shall after send you to heaven. And among 
 the saints you shall be a saint, and the 
 friend and patron of your own nation. You 
 shall be called Saint George; Saint George 
 of merry England, shall be the sign of 
 victory. 
 
 "And since your cradle is unknown to 
 you, I tell you well, you spring from Saxon 
 kings, that have fought with mighty hand 
 [ii8] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 many bloody battles, and reared their royal 
 throne in England. From thence a fairy 
 took you while you slept and left her infant 
 in your place. Then she brought you to 
 Fairyland and hid you in a furrow. There 
 a ploughman found you and brought you 
 up in his home, until your courageous heart 
 led you to the Fairy's court to seek fame." 
 
 *'0 holy sir," said St. George, "how shall 
 I return your many favors? You have read 
 aright my name and nation and taught me 
 the way to heaven." 
 
 High time it now began to be for Una to 
 think of her dear captive parents, and to 
 repair their wasted kingdom. So they take 
 leave of all in that house and ride away. 
 And when they now approached near her 
 native land, Una began to cheer with hearty 
 words her Knight, and spoke in her modest 
 manner, "Dear Knight, as dear as knight 
 ever was, that have suffered these sorrows 
 for my sake, may Heaven behold the toil 
 you have taken for me. Now we are come 
 unto my native soil, and to the place where 
 all our perils are. Here haunts that fiend, 
 and daily ravages. Therefore, be ever ready 
 for your foeman. The spark of noble 
 courage now awake, and strive to excel 
 your excellent self. The battle you under- 
 [119] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 take shall evermore make you renowned 
 above all knights on earth." 
 
 Then pointing with her hand, she said, 
 *Xo, yonder is the brazen tower in which 
 my dear parents are imprisoned through 
 dread of the huge fiend. I see them from 
 far appearing on the. walls, the sight of 
 whom greatly cheers my soul. And on the 
 top of all I espy the watchmen, waiting to 
 hear glad tidings. O my parents! may I 
 bring to you ease of your misery." 
 
 With that, they heard a roaring, hideous 
 sound that filled all the wide air with terror, 
 and seemed to shake the earth. Soon they 
 espied the dreadful Dragon, where he lay 
 stretched upon the sunny side of a great 
 hill, himself like a great hill. So soon as 
 he saw from afar the glittering armor, he 
 roused himself and hastened to them. 
 
 Then the Redcross bade his Lady to 
 withdraw aside to a hill, from whence 
 she might behold the battle and yet be 
 safe from danger ; so she obeyed him. 
 
 By this the dreadful Beast drew nigh 
 to hand, half flying and half footing, and in 
 his haste covering with his largeness much 
 land and making a huge shadow, as a 
 mountain overcasts a valley. Approaching 
 near, he reared high his monstrous body, 
 
 [120] 
 
 L 
 
 ^^ 
 
l\ 
 
 ^ 
 
 THE FAERY QUEEN 
 horrible and vast. He was armed over all 
 with brazen scales, so that nothing could 
 pierce them. Nor might his body be 
 harmed with the blow of a sword, nor push 
 of a spear. His wings were like two sails 
 in which the wind is gathered. The feathers 
 on his pinions were like main-yards. And 
 when he chose to beat the air with his 
 wings the clouds fled before him for terror. 
 
 His huge, long tail, wound up in a hun- 
 dred folds, overspread his whole scaly back, 
 and when he unfolded his tangled knots it 
 swept all the land far behind him. At the 
 point of the tail were fixed two stings, both 
 deadly sharp, more so than the sharpest 
 steel. But the sharpness of his cruel rend- 
 ing claws far exceeded his stings. That 
 was surely dead that was touched by his 
 ravenous feet. 
 
 But his most hideous head my tongue 
 trembles to tell of, for his deep, devouring 
 jaws gaped wide, through which could be 
 seen a dark abyss. In either jaw three 
 ranks of teeth were arranged; and to help 
 kill his prey at once, a cloud of smothering 
 smoke and sulphur steamed forth and filled 
 all the air about. His blazing eyes were 
 like two bright, shining shields, and they 
 burned with wrath and sparkled living fire. 
 
 ^ 
 
 N 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 So dreadfully did he pass toward the 
 Knight, lifting aloft his speckled breast, 
 and bounding over the bruised grass, as if 
 for great joy, he welcomed this Knight. 
 Soon he began to advance his haughty 
 crest, and shake his scales, so that the Red- 
 cross Knight almost quaked for dread. The 
 Knight began fairly to couch his dreadful 
 spear, and fiercely ran at him with might. 
 The pointed steel would neither bite nor 
 pierce his hard hide, but glanced off. Yet 
 so moved was the wrathful beast with that 
 powerful push, that he turned him lightly 
 and as he passed by brushed with his long 
 tail that horse and man to the ground. 
 
 But horse and man lightly rose up again, 
 and the Knight addressed him to a fresh en- 
 counter, but the idle stroke recoiled back 
 in vain. Exceeding rage inflamed the 
 furious beast to be avenged, for never had 
 he felt such wondrous force from the hand 
 of any living man. Then with his waving 
 wings displayed wide, he lifted himself up 
 from the ground, and with his broad sails 
 soared round above him. At last he stooped 
 low and snatched up the man and horse to 
 carry them quite away. 
 
 Long he bore them above the plain, as 
 far as a bow may send an arrow, till strug- 
 
 [122] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 gling strong they at last forced him to let 
 them down again. When the Knight was 
 loose of his grip, he again tried to pierce 
 with his spear through his brass-plated 
 body. Three men's strength he put into 
 the stroke. The stiff beam glanced from 
 his scaly neck and glided close under his 
 left wing, where it made a wide wound, so 
 that the monster cried loudly from the hurt. 
 He roared like the raging seas. The steel 
 head stuck fast in his flesh until with his 
 cruel claws he snatched the wood and broke 
 it in two. 
 
 His hideous tail he then hurled about, 
 and with it enwrapped the thighs of the 
 foaming steed, that striving to unloose him- 
 self was forced to throw his rider. The 
 Knight quickly rose from the earth, and 
 fiercely took his sharp blade in hand, with 
 which he struck so furiously that it seemed 
 nothing could withstand the blow. But his 
 hardened crest was so well armed that the 
 sword could not make a dint. Yet the blow 
 was so severe that the Dragon henceforth 
 shunned to get the like again. 
 
 The Knight was vexed to see his stroke 
 
 without effect, and smote again with more 
 
 outrageous might, but back again the 
 
 sparkling steel recoiled and left no mark. 
 
 [123] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 The beast, now smarting with his hurt, 
 thought with his wings to get above the 
 ground, but his wounded wing would not 
 serve him for flight. Then full of grief he 
 brayed aloud, and from the oven of his 
 mouth he sent forth fire, that scorched the 
 Knight's beard and burned his body 
 through his armor, so that he wished to un- 
 lace his helmet. 
 
 Faint, weary, burned with heat, toil, 
 wounds, he was tormented more than man 
 ever was. He thought death better. The 
 Dpagon, when he saw his foe so dismayed, 
 wished himself to breathe, and turning 
 about struck him so strongly that he was 
 felled to the ground. It happened fairly, 
 that behind his back where he stood there 
 was from ancient times a springing well, 
 full of healing powers and good for medi- 
 cine. In days before that Dragon got that 
 happy land it was called the well of life. 
 For it could cure those that were infected 
 with sickness, and renew the aged. Into the 
 same the Knight fell backward. 
 
 Now the sun began to set, when that 
 monster, having cast his weary foe into that 
 well, began to advance his broad, dis- 
 colored breast and to clap his wings as a 
 victor. Which when his sad Lady saw from 
 [124] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 afar, her soul was filled with great woe and 
 sorrow, as thinking that sad war was at an 
 end. And she began to pray to God to turn 
 that end she feared away. With folded hands 
 and kneefe low bent all night she watched, 
 nor would lay down her weary limbs. 
 
 When the next morning did appear, the 
 gentle virgin Una rose from her place and 
 looked about, if she might spy her loved 
 Knight. 
 
 At last she saw where he started bravely 
 up out of the well, wherein he had lain 
 drenched; and now he rose as if new-bom, 
 once more to try the battle. 
 
 Whom when the monster so fresh did 
 spy he wondered at the sight, and doubted 
 whether it were his late enemy or another 
 man. The Redcross now to prove his re- 
 newed power, brandished on high his 
 bright blade, and smote upon the monster's 
 scalp so sore that he made a yawning 
 wound to the bone; and the deadly blow 
 dulled his senses. Whether the steel was 
 hardened in that water, or the Knight had 
 fresh strength, I know not, for till that time 
 no man could harm that beast. 
 
 The cruel wound enraged him so, that he 
 yelled aloud for exceeding pain. Then he 
 began to toss aloft his tail, and beat the air. 
 [125] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 Nothing could stand before his strokes, for 
 he overthrew high trees and broke rocks in 
 pieces. Then, advancing with his tail high 
 above his head, he intended to sting him 
 with its sharp points. The mortal sting its 
 angry needle shot quite through his shield, 
 and seized his shoulder, where it stuck fast. 
 
 The Knight, striving to rise and loose the 
 sting, found this vain. Then he drew his 
 raging blade and struck so strongly that he 
 cut five joints off the huge tail, and left but 
 the stump. Then the beast filled the sky 
 with his roars and with foul smoke and 
 flashing fire. Then filled with wrath he 
 gathered himself out of the mire and 
 fiercely fell upon the sun-bright shield and 
 gripped it fast. 
 
 Much was this man encumbered by this 
 hold, and was in fear to lose his weapon, nor 
 did he know how to unloose its folds. Three 
 times he tried to draw it from its foot, but 
 all in vain. Then when he saw he could not 
 avail, he took his trusty sword wherewith 
 he fiercely assailed his foe, and stoutly laid 
 about him double blows so that fire flew 
 from the iron. Therewith, he at last forced 
 him to unloose one of his feet to use for 
 his defence. 
 
 The other foot, fixed fast on the shield, 
 
 [126] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 no strength nor stroke could force him to 
 unloose. He smote on that with all his 
 might, until upon a joint the lucky steel did 
 light, and made such way that hewed it 
 quite in twain. For grief thereof the Dragon 
 threw forth huge flames from his furnace, 
 that dimmed heaven's light, covering it 
 with dusky smoke and blue brimstone. The 
 heat thereof so annoyed the Knight that it 
 forced him to retire a little backward for 
 his defence, to save his body from the 
 scorching flames. It chanced as he re- 
 coiled backward, that his foot slipped in 
 the mire and down he fell. 
 
 There grew a tree fairly beside him, laden 
 with fruit and rosy apples, whereof great 
 healing powers were declared. For happy 
 life came to all who fed thereon, and even 
 life everlasting. The great God had planted 
 it in that blessed place with his Almighty 
 hand, and called it the tree of life. In all 
 the world the like of it was not to be found, 
 save in that soil, where all good things 
 grew, and it freely sprung out of the fruit- 
 ful ground as uncorrupted nature sowed 
 them, until that dread Dragon overthrew 
 all. Another like fair tree also grew there- 
 by, whereof whoever ate soon knew both 
 good and evil. 
 
 [127] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 From that first tree forth flowed as from 
 a well a trickling stream of balm, which on 
 the ground still fell and overflowed all the 
 fertile plain. Life and health that gracious 
 ointment gave, and it could heal all deadly 
 wounds. Into that same this Knight fell, 
 which saved him from death. For the ac- 
 cursed Beast dared not approach there, for 
 he hated all that preserved life. 
 
 And now the drooping day began to fade 
 and yield to the sad night, that began to 
 cover the face of the earth with her sable 
 mantle. When Una saw this second fall of 
 her dear Knight, who, v/eary of the long 
 fight and faint with loss of blood, did not 
 move but lay as in a dream, smeared 
 with the precious balm, whose virtue healed 
 his wounds, she was stricken with sore 
 fear and began to pray devoutly for 
 his safety and to watch for the joyous 
 day. 
 
 The joyous day began early to appear 
 with rosy cheeks, when freshly uprose the 
 doughty Knight, all healed of his hurts and 
 wide wounds and decked himself ready for 
 battle. And when his foe, waiting beside 
 him, saw him lift himself freshly up as if 
 his late fight had done him no harm, he be- 
 gan to be dismayed and to fear his fate. 
 [128] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 Nevertheless, he advanced near him with 
 wonted rage. 
 
 And in his first encounter, gaping wide, 
 he thought at once to have quite swallowed 
 him, and rushed upon him outrageously. 
 But the Knight encountered him fiercely. 
 With his bright weapon, taking advantage 
 of his open jaw, he ran through his mouth 
 with such might that he pierced his dark, 
 hollow maw, and retiring backward, drew 
 forth his life blood. 
 
 So down he fell, and breathed forth his 
 life, that vanished into smoke and swift 
 clouds. So down he fell, so that the earth 
 groaned under him, as if too feeble to bear 
 so great a load. So down he fell, as a huge 
 rocky cliff whose foundations have been 
 washed away. So down he fell, and lay 
 like a mountain. 
 
 The Knight himself even trembled at his 
 fall, so huge and horrible a mass it seemed. 
 And his dear Lady that beheld it, dared 
 not approach lest she had not seen aright. 
 But at last when she saw that the direful 
 fiend did not stir, she shook off vain fright 
 and drew nearer and saw that joyous end. 
 Then she praised God, and thanked her 
 faithful Knight that had achieved so great 
 a conquest. 
 
 [129] 
 
 ^' 
 
 L 
 
 v« 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE PARENTS OF UNA GREET HER AND 
 ST. GEORGE WITH LOVE AND JOY.-^ 
 DUESSA AND ARCHIMAGO FAIL IN THEIR 
 LAST EFFORT TO DIVIDE THE KNIGHT 
 AND HIS LADY. — THE JOYFUL MARRIAGE 
 OF UNA AND ST. GEORGE. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 jT was yet early morning 
 when the watchman on the 
 eastern wall saw the last 
 deadly smoke ascend as a 
 sign of the last breath of 
 life of the Dragon. He 
 thereby knew that the 
 baleful Beast was dead, 
 and he began to call loudly to his Lord and 
 Lady, to tell how he had seen the Dragon's 
 fatal fall. 
 
 Then up rose with hasty joy the good 
 Sire, the Lord of all that land, and looked 
 forth to know if the tidings were true in- 
 deed. Which when his eyes knew by 
 trial, he bade to open the brazen gate, which 
 long time had been shut, and at once pro- 
 claimed joy and peace through all his state. 
 For their foe now was dead, that had lately 
 preyed upon them. 
 
 Then began triumphant trumpets to 
 [133] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 sound on high, that sent to heaven the re- 
 port of their new joy, and the happy vic- 
 tory against him that had so long oppressed 
 them and imprisoned them in a besieged 
 fort. Then all the people, as in a solemn 
 feast, assembled with one voice^ rejoic- 
 ing at the fall of the great beast, from 
 whose eternal bondage they were now 
 free. 
 
 Forth came that ancient Lord and aged 
 Queen, arrayed in antique robes down to 
 the ground. A noble crew waited about 
 them of sage and sober peers, gravely , 
 dressed. There marched before them a 
 goodly band of tall young men, all able to' 
 carry arms, but they now bore in their i 
 hands laurel branches, glad signs of vie-! 
 tory and peace in all their land. 
 
 And they came to that doughty Conquer- 
 or prostrating themselves low before him, 
 proclaiming him their Lord and Patron and 
 throwing their laurel boughs at his feet. 
 Soon after them, dancing in a row, came the 
 comely virgins, decked with garlands, as 
 fresh as flowers growing in green mead- 
 ows; and in their hands they held on high 
 sweet timbrels. 
 
 And before them the fry of young chil- 
 dren played their wanton sports and child- 
 [134] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 ish mirth, and sung to the maidens' sound- 
 ing timbrels' joyous lay in well-tuned notes, 
 making all the way delightful music, until 
 they came where the fair virgin, Una, 
 stood. And then they wrestled, some ran, 
 some bathed in the crystal flood. So she 
 beheld those maidens' merriment with 
 cheerful face. When they came to her, they 
 bent themselves humbly to the ground, 
 adoring her by an honorable name. Then 
 they set a green garland on her head, and 
 crowned her half in earnest and half in 
 sport, so that she seemed what she was, a 
 goodly maiden Queen. 
 
 And after all, many ran to see the face 
 of that victorious man, whom all wondered 
 at as if he were sent from heaven, and they 
 gazed upon him with gaping mouths. But 
 when they came where that dead Dragon 
 lay, stretched on the ground in monstrous 
 size, the sight dismayed them with fear, 
 nor did they dare approach near enough to 
 touch him. Some feared and some fled; 
 some pretended to be afraid. One that 
 would seem wiser than the rest warned 
 them not to touch the beast for fear some 
 lingering life might remain within him, or 
 in some hidden nest might lurk little drag- 
 ons. Another said that sparkling fire yet 
 [135] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 remained in his eyes. Another said he saw 
 him move his eyes. 
 
 One mother, when her foolhardy child 
 came too near and played with his claws, 
 was half dead with fear, and said to her 
 friends, " How can I tell, but that his claws 
 may yet scratch my son, or tear his tender 
 hands?" So they talked and did; while 
 some who were more bold stood near to 
 measure him, to see how many acres of 
 land his body covered. 
 
 Thus all the folks flocked round about 
 him. After a while the aged King arrived 
 with all his followers, where the Redcross 
 Knight stood, and the King greeted him 
 with love, and gave him princely gifts of 
 gold and ivory, and gave him a thousand 
 thanks for his pains. Then when he beheld 
 his dear daughter, he embraced her dearly 
 and kissed her many times. 
 
 And after that he brought them to his 
 palace with clarions and trumpets. And 
 all the way the joyous people sang, and 
 strewed the paved streets with their gar- 
 ments. Then, mounting from the street to 
 the palace, they found within all such pro- 
 visions as became that royal court. And all 
 the floor underneath their feet was spread 
 with costly scarlet, on which they sat down. 
 [136] 
 
 /: 
 
 f* 
 
 Q 
 
V 
 
 THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 Why need I tell of this feast, in which 
 there was nothing riotous? Why need 
 I tell of the dainty dishes, or the courtly 
 train? My pages cannot contain all that 
 was true of those royal princes' state. 
 Then when they had quenched their appe- 
 tites with meats and drinks of every kind, 
 the ancient King asked of the Knight an ac- 
 count of his sad perils and strange adven- 
 tures which had befallen him in his travels. 
 And he with grave utterance told all his 
 experience from point to point. 
 
 Great pleasure, mixed with pity, did that 
 King and Queen show, while they heard his 
 adventures. Often they lamented his luck- 
 less state; often they blamed unkind for- 
 tune, that heaped on him so many sorrows. 
 And all the while salt tears bedewed his 
 hearers' cheeks. 
 
 Then said that royal father, ** Dear son, 
 great have been the perils which you have 
 borne from first to last in your enterprise, 
 which I know not whether to praise or pity 
 more. For I think, no living man was ever 
 so distressed in a sea of dangers. But since 
 now you have arrived at shore, let us plan 
 means for ease and rest." 
 
 " Ah, dearest lord," said then the doughty 
 Knight, ''I may not yet think of ease or 
 
 [137] . 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 rest, for by my oath I am bound at once 
 after this adventure to return back to the 
 Fairy Queen and to serve her for six years 
 in war against the proud heathen king, her 
 foe. Therefore I cannot rest until I have 
 fulfilled my vow." 
 
 ** Unhappy is that hard necessity," said 
 he. "This troubles my peace. Nor can I 
 justly speak against the same. But since 
 you cannot unloose that bond, for vows 
 should not be vain, as soon as those six 
 years are over, you shall return here once 
 more to accomplish the marriage between 
 you and my daughter. Which, for my part, 
 I am anxious to fulfill, as I proclaimed 
 throughout the world that whoever killed 
 that most deformed monster should have 
 my only daughter for his wife and be the 
 heir to my kingdom. Therefore since you 
 have done this, I yield to you both daughter 
 and kingdom." 
 
 Then he called forth his fair daughter, 
 the fairest Una, who proceeded forth with 
 sad, sober face, as bright as the morning 
 star appearing out of the east. As fair and 
 fresh as flowers in May was she, for she 
 had laid her black robe aside, with which 
 she had hidden her heavenly beauty, while 
 she was on her weary journey. And on her 
 [138] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 now she wore a lily-white garment, without 
 spot, that seemed to be woven of silk and 
 silver. 
 
 The blazing brightness of her beauty, and 
 the glorious light of her sunshiny face were 
 more than I can describe. Her own dear 
 Knight, though he had been used to see 
 her daily, wondered much at the heavenly 
 sight. He had often seen her fair, but never 
 BO fairly dressed. Thus when she came 
 into the King's presence, she made an hum- 
 ble bow to her sire, which became her well 
 and added grace to her. And then she was 
 about to speak. 
 
 ' But before she had spoken, a messenger 
 with letters came running in with flying 
 speed. All in the open hall stood amazed 
 at the suddenness of his appearance, and 
 wondered at his breathless haste. But he 
 would stay for nothing till he had come to 
 the King. There falling flat with great 
 humility, he kissed the ground, and then 
 taking what he had in his hands, he began 
 to read. 
 
 " To thee, most mighty king of fair Eden, 
 the woeful daughter and forsaken heir of 
 the great Emperor of all the West sends her 
 greetings in these sad lines. She bids you 
 be advised, before you link your daughter 
 [139I 
 
■^ 
 
 THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 in holy marriage to your new guest; for 
 he already has promised his hand to an- 
 other love. To me, sad maid, he was prom- 
 ised, and he gave sacred pledges long ago. 
 He is a false knight, infamous and for- 
 sworn. Therefore since he is mine, with- 
 hold your hand from making this marriage. 
 Nor think to tread down my rights with 
 your strength, for truth is strong and shall 
 find friends. So she bids you farewell, who 
 is neither your friend nor your foe, Fi- 
 dessa." 
 
 When he had read these bitter, biting 
 words, the King was astonished at the 
 strange tidings, and sat still a long time 
 musing, and spoke no word. At last he 
 broke his silence and fixed his eye doubt- 
 fully upon his guest. " Redoubted Knight, 
 who for my sake hast ventured life and hon- 
 or, let nothing be hid from me that ought 
 to be told. What mean these threats? If 
 you find yourself guilty, or bound to an- 
 other Dame, do not cover it with falsehood 
 but disclose the truth.'* 
 
 To whom the Redcross Knight answered 
 thus, " My lord, my king, be not dismayed 
 until you know what woman this is, and 
 why she upbraids me with breach of love. 
 It was while I lately travelled hither, that 
 [140] 
 

 THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 I strayed out of my way through strange 
 perils that would take all this day to tell. 
 There I found, or rather was found by this 
 false woman called Fidessa, who is, in- 
 deed, the most false Duessa. She was 
 richly dressed to deceive weaker sight, and 
 by her wicked art she brought me to her 
 wicked will, and betrayed me to my foe." 
 
 Then stepped forth the goodly royal 
 Maid, Una, and prostrating herself low on 
 the ground, she spoke with sober face, " O, 
 pardon me, my sovereign lord, while I show 
 the secret treasons which I know to have 
 been wrought by that false sorceress. She, 
 only she, it was who threw this gentle 
 Knight into such great distress. And now 
 it seems that she has bribed this false mes- 
 senger to bring these false letters to work 
 new woe, by breaking the bond between us. 
 She has used this false footman, clothed 
 with simplicity, whom, if you wish to dis- 
 cover plainly, I think you will find to be 
 Archimago, the falsest man alive." 
 
 The king was secretly moved at her 
 speech, and with sudden indignation bade 
 them seize that messenger. At once the 
 guards seized that false traitor and truly 
 found him to be Archimago ; and then they 
 bound him, and they laid him low in a deep 
 [141] 
 
 U 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 
 dungeon, fastened hand and foot with iron 
 chains. 
 
 And when the King's anger was pacified, 
 he began to renew the thought of the mar- 
 riage. And he at once, without more de- 
 lay, tied his dear daughter with sacred rites 
 and vows to the Knight forever. He knitted 
 the knot with his own two hands, that none 
 but death could ever divide them. With 
 his own hands he kindled the sacramental 
 fires and sprinkled the holy water. 
 
 Then they began to sprinkle all the posts 
 with wine, and made great feasts. They 
 perfumed all with frankincense, and pre- 
 cious odors brought from far. All the 
 while sweet music played with curious skill 
 warbling notes. During which there was 
 a heavenly noise heard sounding pleasantly 
 through the place as if it had been an an- 
 gel's voice. Yet no one knew whence that 
 heavenly sound came. 
 
 Great joy was made that day among old 
 and young, and a solemn feast was pro- 
 claimed through the land. Thrice happy man 
 the Knight thought himself, being pos- 
 sessed of the hand and heart of his Lady. 
 And always when his eyes beheld her his 
 heart seemed to melt with pleasure. He 
 there long enjoyed her presence and sweet 
 [142] 
 
THE FAERY QUEEN 
 company. No wicked envy, nor wild jeal- 
 ousy was able to annoy him. 
 
 Yet while swimming in the sea of bliss, 
 he never forgot what he had sworn — that 
 in case he should destroy that monstrous 
 beast, he would return to his Fairy Queen. 
 Which he shortly did, leaving Una for the 
 time in the care of her loving and happy 
 parents. 
 
 THE 
 
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 [143] 
 
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 Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
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