2

Hard by his side grewe a bragging Brere, Which prowdly thrust into Thelement, And seemed to threat the Firmament. It was embellisht with blossomes fayre, And thereto aye wonned to repayre The shepheards daughters to gather flowres, 120 To peinct their girlonds with his colowres. And in his small bushes used to shrowde The sweete Nightingale singing so lowde: Which made this foolish Brere wexe so bold, That on a time hee cast him to scold, And snebbe the good Oake, for he was old. 'Why standst there (quoth he) thou brutish blocke?

130

'Nor for fruict nor for shadowe serues thy stocke:
'Seest how fresh my flowers bene spredde,
'Dyed in Lilly white and Cremsin redde,
'With Leaves engrained in lusty greene,
'Colours meete to clothe a mayden Queene.
'Thy wast bignes3 but combers the grownd,
'And dirks the beautie of my blossomes rownd.
'The mouldie mosse, which thee accloieth,*
'My Sinamon smell too much annoieth.
'Wherefore soone I rede thee, hence remoue,
'Least thou the price of my displeasure proue.'
So spake this bold brere with great disdaine:
Little him answered the Oake againe,
But yielded, with shame and greefe adawed,
That of a weede he was ouerawed.

Yt chaunced after vpon a day,
The Hus-bandman selfe to come that way,
Of custome for to suruewe' his grownd,
And his trees of state in compasse rownd.
Him when the spitefull brere had espyed,
Causlesse complayned, and lowdly cryed
Vnto his Lord, stirring up sterne strife:

'O, my liege Lord! the God of my life,
'Pleaseth you ponder your Suppliants plaint,
'Caused of wrong, and cruell constraint,
'Which I your poore vassall dayly endure:
And but your goodnes the same recure,
'Am like for desperate doole to dye,
"Through felonous force of mine enemie.'
Greatly agast with this piteous plea,

9

8

140

150

3 were accustomed advise daunted

171

'With flowring blossomes, to furnish the prime
'And scarlet berries in Sommer time?
'Howe falls it then that this faded Oake,
'Whose bodie is sere, whose braunches broke,
'Whose naked Armes stretch vnto the fyre,
'Vnto such tyrannie doth aspire.
'Hindering with his shade my louely light,
'And robbing me of the swete sonnes sight?
'So beate his old boughes my tender side,
"That oft the bloud springeth from wounds
wyde:

'Untimely my flowres forced to fall,
"That bene the honor of your Coronall.
'And oft he lets his cancker wormes light
'Upon my braunches, to worke
spight:

4

me more

'And oft his hoarie locks downe doth cast, 'Where with my fresh flowretts bene defast: 'For this, and many more such outrage, 'Craving your goodlihead2 to aswage "The ranckorous rigour of his might, 'Nought aske I, but onely to hold my right: 'Submitting me to your good sufferance, 'And praying to be garded from greeuance.' To this the Oake cast him to replie Well as he couth 3; but his enemie Had kindled such coles of displeasure, That the good man noulde stay his leasure, But home him hasted with furious heate, Encreasing his wrath with many a threate. His harmefull Hatchet he hent 5 in hand, (Alas, that it so ready should stand) And to the field alone he speedeth, (Ay little helpe to harme there needeth) Anger nould let him speake to the tree, Enaunter his rage mought cooled be: But to the roote bent his sturdy stroke, And made many wounds in the wast' Oake. The Axes edge did oft turne againe, As halfe unwilling to cutte the graine: Semed, the sencelesse yron dyd feare, Or to wrong holy eld did forbeare. For it had bene an auncient tree,

180

190

200

1 then 2 goodness 3 could would not seized 6 lest 7 vast

Sacred with many a mysteree,

210

THE FAERIE QUEENE

BOOK I. CANTO I

And often crost with the priestes crewe,
And often halowed with holy water dewe.
But sike fancies weren foolerie,

And broughten this Oake to this miserye.
For nought mought they quitten him from
decay:

For fiercely the good man at him did laye.

The blocke oft groned vnder the blow,
And sighed to see his neare ouerthrow.
In fine, the steele had pierced his pitth,

Tho2 downe to the earth hee fell forthwith.

His wonderous weight made the grounde to quake,

Thearth shronke vnder him, and seemed to shake.

There lyeth the Oake, pitied of none.

Now stands the Brere like a Lord alone,
Puffed vp with pryde and vaine pleasaunce:
But all this glee had no continuaunce:
For eftsones Winter gan to approche,

The blustring Boreas did encroche,

And beate upon the solitarie Brere:

220

I

99

And dead, as living, ever him ador'd: Upon his shield the like was also scor'd,

For soveraine hope which in his helpe he had. Right faithfull true he was in deede and word; But of his cheere did seeme too solemne sad; Yet nothing did he dread, but ever was ydrad.3

III

20

Upon a great adventure he was bond,'
That greatest Gloriana to him gave,
(That greatest Glorious Queene of Faery lond 5)
To winne him worshippe, and her grace to have,
Which of all earthly thinges he most did crave:
And ever as he rode his hart did earne
To prove his puissance in battell brave
Upon his foe, and his new force to learne,
Upon his foe, a Dragon horrible and stearne.

ΙΟΙ

XIII

"Yea, but" (quoth she) "the perill of this place I better wot than you: though nowe too late To wish you backe returne with foule disgrace; Yet wisdome warnes, whilest foot is in the gate, To stay the steppe ere forced to retrate. 113 This is the wandring wood, this Errours den, A monster vile, whom God and man does hate: Therefore, I read,' beware." "Fly, fly!" (quoth then

The fearefull Dwarfe) "this is no place for living men."

XIV

But, full of fire and greedy hardiment,

The youthfull Knight could not for ought be staide;

But forth unto the darksom hole he went, 120 And looked in: his glistring armor made A little glooming light, much like a shade; By which he saw the ugly monster plaine, Halfe like a serpent horribly displaide, But th' other halfe did womans shape retaine, Most lothsom, filthie, foule, and full of vile disdaine.