**** ROTATE **** **** ROTATE **** **** ROTATE **** **** ROTATE ****

Find this Story

Print, a form you can hold

Wireless download to your Amazon Kindle

Look for a summary or analysis of this Poem.

Enjoy this? Share it!


The Faerie Queene, Book I, Canto 3
by [?]


Which when none yeelded, her unruly Page[*]
With his rude claws the wicket open rent, 110
And let her in; where of his cruell rage
Nigh dead with feare, and faint astonishment,
She found them both in darkesome corner pent;
Where that old woman day and night did pray
Upon her beads devoutly penitent; 115
Nine hundred Pater nosters[*] every day,
And thrise nine hundred Aves she was wont to say.


And to augment her painefull pennance more,
Thrise every weeke in ashes she did sit,
And next her wrinkled skin rough sackcloth wore, 120
And thrise three times did fast from any bit:
But now for feare her beads she did forget.
Whose needlesse dread for to remove away,
Faire Una framed words and count’nance fit:
Which hardly doen, at length she gan them pray, 125
That in their cotage small that night she rest her may.


The day is spent, and commeth drowsie night,
When every creature shrowded is in sleepe;
Sad Una downe her laies in wearie plight,
And at her feete the Lyon watch doth keepe: 130
In stead of rest, she does lament, and weepe
For the late losse of her deare loved knight,
And sighes, and grones, and ever more does steepe
Her tender brest in bitter teares all night,
All night she thinks too long, and often lookes for light. 135


Now when Aldeboran[*] was mounted hie
Above the shynie Cassiopeias chaire,[*]
And all in deadly sleepe did drowned lie,
One knocked at the dore,[*] and in would fare;
He knocked fast, and often curst, and sware, 140
That readie entrance was not at his call:
For on his backe a heavy load he bare
Of nightly stelths, and pillage severall,
Which he had got abroad by purchase criminall.


He was, to weete, a stout and sturdy thiefe, 145
Wont to robbe Churches of their ornaments,
And poore mens boxes of their due reliefe,
Which given was to them for good intents;
The holy Saints of their rich vestiments
He did disrobe, when all men carelesse slept, 150
And spoild the Priests of their habiliments,
Whiles none the holy things in safety kept;
Then he by conning sleights in at the window crept.


And all that he by right or wrong could find,
Unto this house he brought, and did bestow 155
Upon the daughter of this woman blind,
Abessa, daughter of Corceca slow,
With whom he whoredome usd, that few did know,
And fed her fat with feast of offerings,
And plentie, which in all the land did grow; 160
Ne spared he to give her gold and rings:
And now he to her brought part of his stolen things.


Thus long the dore with rage and threats he bet,
Yet of those fearfull women none durst rize,
The Lyon frayed them, him in to let: 165
He would no longer stay him to advize,[*]
But open breakes the dore in furious wize,
And entring is; when that disdainfull beast
Encountring fierce, him suddaine doth surprize,
And seizing cruell clawes on trembling brest, 170
Under his Lordly foot him proudly hath supprest.