The Faerie Queene - anthology. The following selection from Edmund Spenser's poem The Faerie Queene is drawn from the beginning of the third canto in the first book and illustrates his nine-line verses, often referred to as Spenserian stanzas. Spenser originally planned the poem to consist of 12 books, each made up of 12 cantos; he completed only 6 books, however. In this canto, "Forsaken Truth" is a woman who tames a lion with her beauty. This kind of tale, in which characters symbolize abstract human qualities, is called an allegory. Other books in The Faerie Queene tell stories of noble virtues such as chastity and justice. The Faerie Queene, Canto III By Edmund Spenser Forsaken Truth long seekes her love, And makes the Lyon mylde, Marres blind Devotions mart, and fals In hand of leachour vylde. 1 Nought is there under heav'ns wide hollownesse, That moves more deare compassion of mind, Then beautie brought t'unworthy wretchednesse Through envies snares or fortunes freakes unkind: I, whether lately through her brightnesse blind, Or through alleageance and fast fealtie, Which I do owe unto all woman kind, Feele my heart perst with so great agonie, When such I see, that all for pittie I could die. 2 And now it is empassionéd so deepe, For fairest Unaes sake, of whom I sing, That my fraile eyes these lines with teares do steepe, To thinke how she through guilefull handeling, Though true as touch, though daughter of a king, Though faire as ever living wight was faire, Though nor in word nor deede ill meriting, Is from her knight divorcéd in despaire And her due loves derived to that vile witches share. 3 Yet she most faithfull Ladie all this while Forsaken, wofull, solitarie mayd Farre from all peoples prease, as in exile, In wildernesse and wastfull deserts strayd, To seeke her knight; who subtilly betrayd Through that late vision, which th'Enchaunter wrought, Had her abandond. She of nought affrayd, Through woods and wastnesse wide him daily sought; Yet wishéd tydings none of him unto her brought. 4 One day nigh wearie of the yrkesome way, From her unhastie beast she did alight, And on the grasse her daintie limbes did lay In secret shadow, farre from all mens sight: From her faire head her fillet she undight, And laid her stole aside. Her angels face As the great eye of heaven shynéd bright, And made a sunshine in the shadie place; Did never mortall eye behold such heavenly grace. 5 It fortunéd out of the thickest wood A ramping Lyon rushéd suddainly, Hunting full greedie after salvage blood; Soone as the royall virgin he did spy, With gaping mouth at her ran greedily, To have attonce devoured her tender corse: But to the pray when as he drew more ny, His bloudie rage asswagéd with remorse, And with the sight amazd, forgat his furious forse. 6 In stead thereof he kist her wearie feet, And lickt her lilly hands with fawning tong, As he her wrongéd innocence did weet. O how can beautie maister the most strong, And simple truth subdue avenging wrong? Whose yeelded pride and proud submission, Still dreading death, when she had markéd long, Her hart gan melt in great compassion, And drizling teares did shed for pure affection. 7 "The Lyon Lord of everie beast in field," Quoth she, "his princely puissance doth abate, And mightie proud to humble weake does yield, Forgetfull of the hungry rage, which late Him prickt, in pittie of my sad estate: But he my Lyon, and my noble Lord, How does he find in cruell hart to hate Her that him loved, and ever most adord, As the God of my life? why hath he me abhord?" 8 Redounding teares did choke th'end of her plaint, Which softly ecchoed from the neighbour wood; And sad to see her sorrowfull constraint The kingly beast upon her gazing stood; With pittie calmd, downe fell his angry mood. At last in close hart shutting up her paine, Arose the virgin borne of heavenly brood, And to her snowy Palfrey got againe, To seeke her strayéd Champion, if she might attaine. 9 The Lyon would not leave her desolate, But with her went along, as a strong gard Of her chast person, and a faithfull mate Of her sad troubles and misfortunes hard: Still when she slept, he kept both watch and ward, And when she wakt, he waited diligent, With humble service to her will prepard: From her faire eyes he tooke commaundément, And ever by her lookes conceivéd her intent. Source: Spenser, Edmund. Edmund Spenser's Poetry. Edited by Hugh Maclean and Anne Lake Prescott. New York: W.W. Norton & Co., 1993.
