Letteratura inglese - Analisi e traduzione Edmund Spenser The Fight Against Error

Edmund Spenser – The Faerie Queene

The fight against error (1-83)

The patron of true holinesse Foule Errou1r doth defeate: Hypocrisie him to entrappe, Doth to his home entreate.

(5) A gentle knight was pricking on the plaine, Y cladd in mightie armes and silver shielde, Wherein old dints of deep wound did remaine, The cruell markes of many’ a bloudye fielde; His angry steede did chide his forming bitt, (10) As much disdayning to the curbe to yielde: Full jolly knight he seemd, and faire did sitt, As one for knightly jousts and fierce encounters fitt.

But on his brest a bloundie Crosse he bore, The deare rememberance of his dying Lord, (15) For whose sweet sake that glorious badge he wore, And dead as living ever him ador’d: For soveraine hope, which in his helpe he had: Right faithfull true he was in deede and word, But of his chere did seeme too solemne sad; (20) Yet nothing did he dread, but ever was ydrad.

Upon a great adventure he was bound, That greatest Gloriana to him have, That greatest Glorious Queene of Faerie land, To winne him worship, and her grace to have, (25) Which of all earthly things he most did crave; And ever as he rode, his hart did yearne To prove his puissance in battell brave Upon his foe, and his new force to learne; Upon his foe, a Dragon horrible and stearne.

(30) Be well aware, quoth then that ladie milde, Least suddaine mischiefe ye too rash provoke: The danger hid, the place unknowne and wilde, Breedes dreadful doubts: Oft fire is without smoke, And peril without snow; therefore your stroke (35) Sir knight withold, till further triall made.

Ah Ladie (said he) shame were to revoke The forward footing for an hidden shade: Verture gives her selfe light, through darkness for to wade.

Yea but (quoth she) the perill of this place (40) I better wot then you, though now 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.

This is the wandring wood, this Errours den, (45) A monster vile, whom God and man does hate: Therefore I read beware. Fly, fly (quoth then The fearful dwarfe): this is no place for living men.

But full oh fire and greedy hardiment The youthfull knight could not for ought be staide, (50) But forth unto the darksome hole we went, And looked in: his glistering armor made A little glooming light, much like a shade, By which he saw the ugly monster plaine, Half like a serpent horribly displaide, (55) But th’other halfe did woman’s shape retaine, Most lothsom, filthie, foule, and full of vile disdaine.