That backward he enforced him to fall;
And, being down, ere he new help could call,
His shield he on him threw, and fast down held;
Like as a bullock, that in bloody stall
Of butcher's baleful hand to ground is fell'd,
Is forcibly kept down, till he be throughly quell'd.
Full cruelly the Beast did rage and roar
To be down held, and master'd so with might,
That he gan fret and foam out bloody gore,
Striving in vain to rear himself upright:
For still, the more he strove, the more the Knight
Did him suppress, and forcibly subdue;
That made him almost mad for fell despite;
He grinn'd, he bit, he scratch'd, he venom threw,
And faréd1 like a fiend right horrible in hue:
Or like the hell-born Hydra, which they feign
That great Alcides whilome2 overthrew,
After that he had labour'd long in vain
To crop his thousand heads, the which still new
Forth budded, and in greater number grew.
Such was the fury of this hellish Beast,
Whilst Calidore him under him down threw;
Who nathëmore3 his heavy load releast, [creast.
But aye, the more he rag'd, the more his power in-
Then, when the Beast saw he might naught avail
By force, he gan his hundred tongues apply,
And sharply at him to revile and rail
With bitter terms of shameful infamy;
Oft interlacing many a forgéd lie,
Whose like he never once did speak, nor hear,
Nor ever thought thing so unworthily:
Yet did he naught, for all that, him forbear,
But strained him so straitly that he chok'd him near.
At last, whenas he found his force to shrink
And rage to quail, he took a muzzle strong
Of surest iron made with many a link;
Therewith he muréd1 up his mouth along,
And therein shut up his blasphemous tongue,
For never more defaming gentle knight,
Or unto lovely lady doing wrong:
And thereunto a great long chain he tight,'
With which he drew him forth, ev'n in his own despite.
Like as whilóme that strong Tirynthian swain
Brought forth with him the dreadful dog of hell
Against his will fast bound in iron chain,
And roaring horribly, did him compel
To see the hateful sun, that he might tell
To grisly Pluto, what on earth was done,
And to the other damnéd ghosts which dwell
For aye in darkness which day-light doth shun:
So led this Knight his captive with like conquest won.
Yet greatly did the Beast repine at those
Strange bands, whose like till then he never bore,
Ne ever any durst till then impose;
And chaféd inly, seeing now no more
Him liberty was left aloud to roar:
Yet durst he not draw back, nor once withstand
The provéd pow'r of noble Calidore;
But trembled underneath his mighty hand,
And like a fearful dog him follow 'd through the land.
Him through all Faery Land he follow'd so,
As if he learnéd had obedience long,
That all the people, whereso he did go,
Out of their towns did round about him throng, To see him lead that Beast in bondage strong; And, seeing it, much wonder'd at the sight: And all such persons, as he erst1 did wrong, Rejoicéd much to see his captive plight, [Knight. Wonder. And much admir'd2 the Beast, but more admir'd the
Thus was this monster, by the mast'ring might
Of doughty Calidore, suppress'd and tam'd,
That never more he might endamage wight
With his vile tongue, which many had defam'd,
And many causeless, causéd to be blam'd:
So did he eke long after this remain,
Until that, (whether wicked fate so fram'd
Or fault of men,) he broke his iron chain,
And got into the world at liberty again.
Thenceforth more mischief and more scathe he
To mortal men than he had done before;
Ne ever could, by any, more be brought
Into like bands, ne master'd any more:
Albës that, long time after Calidore,
The good Sir Pelleas him took in hand;
And after him Sir Lamorac of yore;
And all his brethren born in Britain land:
Yet none of them could ever bring him into band.
So now he rangeth through the world again,
And rageth sore in each degree and state;
Ne any is that may him now restrain,
He growen is so great and strong of late,
Barking and biting all that him do bait,1
Albe they worthy blame, or clear of crime;
Ne spareth he most learned Wits to rate,
Ne spareth he the gentle Poet's rhyme;
But rends, without regard of person or of time.
Ne may this homely verse, of many meanest,
Hope to escape his venomous despite,
More than my former writs, all2 were they cleanest Al-
From blameful blot, and free from all that wite3
With which some wicked tongues did it backbite,
And bring into a mighty peer's* displeasure,
That never so deservéd to endite.1
Therefore do you, my rhymes, keep better measure,
And seek to please; that now is counted wise men's
* Mighty peer:' supposed to be the Lord Treasurer Burleigh, who is known to have been unfriendly to the poet.
WHICH, BOTH FOR FORM AND MATTER, APPEAR TO BE PARCEL OF SOME
FOLLOWING BOOK OF
Proud Change (not pleas'd in mortal things
Beneath the moon to reign)
Pretends, as well of gods as men,
To be the sovereign.
WHAT man that sees the ever-whirling wheel
Of Change, the which all mortal things doth sway,
But that thereby doth find, and plainly feel,
How Mutability in them doth play
Her cruel sports to many men's decay?1
Which that to all may better yet appear,
I will rehearse, that whilome2 I heard say,
How she at first herself began to rear
[to bear.
Gainst all the gods, and th' empire sought from them
* These two cantos, and the fragment of the third, were not published during Spenser's life. They first appeared in the folio edition of the 'Faery Queen,' published in 1609, which contains no preface or ex planation.
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