English Literature for Boys and Girls Part 34

Chapter XLII SPENSER--THE "FAERY QUEEN"

SPENSER'S plan for the Faery Queen was a very great one. He meant to write a poem in twelve books, each book containing the adventures of a knight who was to show forth one virtue. And if these were well received he purposed to write twelve more. Only the first three books were as yet published, but they made him far more famous than the Shepherd's Calendar had done. For never since Chaucer had such poetry been written. In the Faery Queen Spenser has, as he says, changed his "oaten reed" for "trumpets stern," and sings no longer now of shepherds and their loves, but of "knights and ladies gentle deeds" of "fierce wars and faithful loves."

The first three books tell the adventures of the Red Cross Knight St. George, or Holiness; of Sir Guyon, or Temperance; and of the Lady Britomartis, or Chast.i.ty. The whole poem is an allegory.

Everywhere we are meant to see a hidden meaning. But sometimes the allegory is very confused and hard to follow. So at first, in any case, it is best to enjoy the story and the beautiful poetry, and not trouble about the second meaning. Spenser plunges us at once into the very middle of the story. He begins:

"A gentle Knight was p.r.i.c.king on the plain, Yelad in mighty arms and silver shield, Wherein old dints of deep wounds did remain, The cruel marks of many a b.l.o.o.d.y field; Yet arms till that time did he never wield.

His angry steed did chide his foaming bit, As much disdaining to the curb to yield: Full jolly knight he seem'd, and fair did sit, As one for knightly jousts and fierce encounters fit.

But on his breast a b.l.o.o.d.y cross he bore, The dear remembrance of his dying Lord, For whose sweet sake that glorious badge he wore, And dead as living ever him ador'd; Upon his shield the like was also scor'd."

And by the side of this Knight rode a lovely Lady upon a snow- white a.s.s. Her dress, too, was snow-white, but over it she wore a black cloak, "as one that inly mourned," and it "seemed in her heart some hidden care she had."

So the story begins; but why these two, the grave and gallant Knight and the sad and lovely Lady, are riding forth together we should not know until the middle of the seventh canto, were it not for a letter which Spenser wrote to Raleigh and printed in the beginning of his book. In it he tells us not only who these two are, but also his whole great design. He writes this letter, he says, "knowing how doubtfully all allegories may be construed," and this book of his "being a continued allegory, or dark conceit," he thought it good to explain. Having told how he means to write of twenty-four knights who shall represent twenty- four virtues, he goes on to tell us that the Faery Queen kept her yearly feast twelve days, upon which twelve days the occasions of the first twelve adventures happened, which, being undertaken by twelve knights, are told of in these twelve books.

The first was this. At the beginning of the feast a tall, clownish young man knelt before the Queen of the Fairies asking as a boon that to him might be given the first adventure that might befall. "That being granted he rested him on the floor, unfit through his rusticity for a better place.

"Soon after entered a fair Lady in mourning weeds, riding on a white a.s.s with a Dwarf behind her leading a warlike steed, that bore the arms of a knight, and his spear in the Dwarf's hand.

"She, falling before the Queen of Fairies, complained that her Father and Mother, an ancient King and Queen had been by a huge Dragon many years shut up in a brasen Castle, who thence suffered them not to issue." And therefore she prayed the Fairy Queen to give her a knight who would slay the Dragon.

Then the "clownish person" started up and demanded the adventure.

The Queen was astonished, the maid unwilling, yet he begged so hard that the Queen consented. The Lady, however, told him that unless the armor she had brought would serve him he could not succeed. But when he put the armor on "he seemed the goodliest man in all that company, and was well liked of that Lady. And eftsoons taking on him knighthood, and mounting on that strange courser, he went forth with her on that adventure, where beginneth the first book, viz.:

"'A gentle Knight was p.r.i.c.king on the plain,' etc."

The story goes on to tell how the Knight, who is the Red Cross Knight St. George, and the Lady, who is called Una, rode on followed by the Dwarf. At length in the wide forest they lost their way and came upon the lair of a terrible She-Dragon. "Fly, fly," quoth then the fearful Dwarf, "this is no place for living men."

"But full of fire and greedy hardiment, The youthful Knight could not for ought be stayed; But forth unto the darksome hole he went, And looked in: his glistering armour made A little glooming light, much like a shade, By which he saw the ugly monster plain, Half like a serpent horribly displayed, But th'other half did woman's shape retain, Most loathsome, filthy, foul, and full of vile disdain."

There was a fearful fight between the Knight and the Dragon, whose name is Error, but at length the Knight conquered. The terrible beast lay dead "reft of her baleful head," and the Knight, mounting upon his charger, once more rode onwards with his Lady.

"At length they chanced to meet upon the way An aged sire, in long black weeds yelad, His feet all bare, his beard all h.o.a.ry grey, And by his belt his book he hanging had, Sober he seemed, and very sagely sad, And to the ground his eyes were lowly bent, Simple in show, and void of malice bad, And all the way he prayed, as he went, And often knocked his breast, as one that did repent."

The Knight and this aged man greeted each other fair and courteously, and as evening was now fallen the G.o.dly father bade the travelers come to his Hermitage for the night. This the Knight and Lady gladly did, and soon were peacefully sleeping beneath the humble roof.

But the seeming G.o.dly father was a wicked magician. While his guests slept he wove evil spells about them, and calling a wicked dream he bade it sit at the Knight's head and whisper lies to him. This the wicked dream did till that it made the Knight believe his Lady to be bad and false. Then early in the morning the Red Cross Knight rose and, believing his Lady to be unworthy, he rode sadly away, leaving her alone.

Soon, as he rode along, he met a Saracen whose name was Sansfoy, or without faith, "full large of limb and every joint he was, and cared not for G.o.d or man a point."

"He had a fair companion of his way, A goodly Lady clad in scarlet red, Purfled with gold and pearl of rich a.s.say, And like a Persian mitre on her head She wore, with crowns and riches garnished, The which her lavish lovers to her gave; Her wanton palfrey all was overspread With tinsell trappings, woven like a wave, Whose bridle rang with golden bells and bosses brave."

The Red Cross Knight fought and conquered Sansfoy. Then he rode onward with the dead giant's companion, the lady Duessa, whom he believed to be good because he was "too simple and too true" to know her wicked.

Meanwhile Una, forsaken and woeful, wandered far and wide seeking her lost Knight. But nowhere could she hear tidings of him. At length one day, weary of her quest, she got off her a.s.s and lay down to rest in the thick wood, where "her angel's face made a sunshine in the shady place."

Then out of the thickest of the wood a ramping lion rushed suddenly.

"It fortuned out of the thickest wood A ramping Lion rushed suddenly, Hunting full greedy after savage blood.

Soon as the royal virgin he did spy, With gaping mouth at her ran greedily To have at once devoured her tender corse."

But as he came near the sleeping Lady the Lion's rage suddenly melted. Instead of killing Una, he licked her weary feet and white hands with fawning tongue. From being her enemy he became her guardian. And so for many a day the Lion stayed with Una, guarding her from all harm. But in her wanderings she at length met with Sansloy, the brother of Sansfoy, who killed the Lion and carried Una off into the darksome wood.

But here in her direst need Una found new friends in a troupe of fauns and satyrs who were playing in the forest.

"Whom when the raging Saracen espied, A rude, misshapen, monstrous rabblement, Whose like he never saw, he durst not bide, But got his ready steed, and fast away gan ride."

Then the fauns and satyrs gathered round the Lady, wondering at her beauty, pitying her "fair blubbered face."

But Una shook with fear. These terrible shapes, half goat, half human, struck her dumb with horror: "Ne word to peak, ne joint to move she had."

"The savage nation feel her secret smart And read her sorrow in her count'nance sad; Their frowning foreheads with rough horns yelad, And rustic horror all aside do lay, And gently grinning shew a semblance glad To comfort her, and feat to put away."

They kneel upon the ground, they kiss her feet, and at last, sure that they mean her no harm, Una rises and goes with them.

Rejoicing, singing songs, honoring her as their Queen, waving branches, scattering flowers beneath her feet, they lead her to their chief Sylva.n.u.s. He, too, receives her kindly, and in the wood she lives with these wild creatures until there she finds a new knight named Satyrane, with whom she once more sets forth to seek the Red Cross Knight.

Meanwhile Duessa had led the Red Cross Knight to the house of Pride.

"A stately Palace built of squared brick, Which cunningly was without mortar laid, Whose walls were high, but nothing strong, nor thick, And golden foil all over them displayed, That purest sky with brightness they dismayed.

High lifted up were many lofty towers And goodly galleries far overlaid, Full of fair windows, and delightful bowers, And on the top a dial told the timely hours.

It was a goodly heap for to behold, And spake the praises of the workman's wit, But full great pity, that so fair a mould Did on so weak foundation ever sit; For on a sandy hill, that still did flit, And fall away, it mounted was full high, And every breath of heaven shaked it; And all the hinder parts, that few could spy, Were ruinous and old, but painted cunningly."

Here the Knight met Sansjoy, the third of the Saracen brothers, and another fearful fight took place.

"The Saracen was stout, and wondrous strong, And heaped blows like iron hammers great: For after blood and vengeance he did long.

The Knight was fierce, and full of youthly heat, And doubled strokes like dreaded thunder's threat, For all for praise and honour he did fight.

Both striken strike, and beaten both do beat That from their shields forth flyeth fiery light, And helmets hewen deep, show marks of either's might."

At last a charmed cloud hid the Saracen from the Knight's sight.

So the fight ended, and the Knight, sorely wounded, was "laid in sumptuous bed, where many skilful leeches him abide."

But as he lay there weak and ill the Dwarf came to warn him, for he had spied

"Where, in a dungeon deep, huge numbers lay Of caitiff wretched thralls, that wailed night and day, . . . . . . .

Whose case when as the careful Dwarf had told, And made ensample of their mournful sight Unto his master, he no longer would There dwell in peril of like painful plight, But early rose, and ere that dawning light Discovered had the world to heaven wide, He by a privy postern took his flight, That of no envious eyes he might be spied, For doubtless death ensued, if any him descried."

When the false Duessa discovered that the Red Cross Knight had fled, she followed him and found him resting beside a fountain.

Not knowing that the water was enchanted, he drank of it, and at once all his manly strength ebbed away, and he became faint and feeble. Then, when he was too weak to hold a sword or spear, he saw a fearful sight:--

"With st.u.r.dy steps came stalking in his sight, An hideous Giant horrible and high, That with his tallness seemed to threat the sky, The ground eke groaned under him for dread; His living like saw never living eye, Nor durst behold; his stature did exceed The height of three the tallest sons of mortal seed."