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The Faerie Queene, Book I, Canto 9
by
XLIV
Then do no further goe, no further stray,
But here lie downe, and to thy rest betake,
Th’ ill to prevent, that life ensewen may. 390
For what hath life, that may it loved make,
And gives not rather cause it to forsake?
Feare, sicknesse, age, losse, labour, sorrow, strife,
Paine, hunger, cold, that makes the hart to quake;
And ever fickle fortune rageth rife, 395
All which, and thousands mo do make a loathsome life.
XLV
Thou wretched man, of death hast greatest need,
If in true ballance thou wilt weigh thy state:
For never knight, that dared warlike deede,
More lucklesse disaventures did amate: 400
Witnesse the dungeon deepe, wherein of late
Thy life shut up, for death so oft did call;
And though good lucke prolonged hath thy date,[*]
Yet death then would the like mishaps forestall,
Into the which hereafter thou maiest happen fall. 405
XLVI
Why then doest thou, O man of sin, desire
To draw thy dayes forth to their last degree?
Is not the measure of thy sinfull hire[*]
High heaped up with huge iniquitie,
Against the day of wrath, to burden thee? 410
Is not enough, that to this Ladie milde
Thou falsed hast thy faith with perjurie,
And sold thy selfe to serve Duessa vilde,
With whom in all abuse thou hast thy selfe defilde?
XLVII
Is not he just, that all this doth behold 415
From highest heaven, and beares an equall eye?
Shall he thy sins up in his knowledge fold,
And guilty be of thine impietie?
Is not his law, Let every sinner die:
Die shall all flesh? what then must needs be donne, 420
Is it not better to doe willinglie,
Then linger, till the glasse be all out ronne?
Death is the end of woes: die soone, O faeries sonne.
XLVIII
The knight was much enmoved with his speach,
That as a swords point through his hart did perse, 425
And in his conscience made a secret breach,
Well knowing true all that he did reherse,
And to his fresh remembraunce did reverse
The ugly vew of his deformed crimes,
That all his manly powres it did disperse, 430
As he were charmed[*] with inchaunted rimes,
That oftentimes he quakt, and fainted oftentimes.
XLIX
In which amazement, when the Miscreant
Perceived him to waver weake and fraile,
Whiles trembling horror did his conscience dant, 435
And hellish anguish did his soule assaile,
To drive him to despaire, and quite to quaile,
He shew’d him painted in a table[*] plaine,
The damned ghosts, that doe in torments waile,
And thousand feends that doe them endlesse paine 440
With fire and brimstone, which for ever shall remaine.
L
The sight whereof so throughly him dismaid,
That nought but death before his eyes he saw,
And ever burning wrath before him laid,
By righteous sentence of th’ Almighties law. 445
Then gan the villein him to overcraw,
And brought unto him swords, ropes, poison, fire,
And all that might him to perdition draw;
And bad him choose, what death he would desire:
For death was due to him, that had provokt Gods ire. 450