The Scourging of Don Braggadochio
Dennis
of discourse'.
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'Master' of Shakespeare, Recorder of Stratford-upon-Avon:
Fulke Greville, Life of Sir Philip Sidney:
Thus stood the state of things then: And if any judicious Reader shall
ask, Whether it were not an error, and a dangerous one, for Sir Philip
being neither Magistrate nor Counsellor, to oppose himself against his
Soveraigns pleasure in things indifferent? I must answer, That his
worth, truth, favour, and sincerity of heart, together with his real
manner of proceeding in it, were his privileges. Because this
Gentlemans course in this great business was, not by murmur among
equals, or inferiours, to detract from Princes: or by a mutinous kind
of bemoaning error, to stir up ill affections in their minds, whose
best thoughts could do him no good; but by a due address of his humble
reasons to the Queen her self, to whom the appeal was proper. So that
although he found a sweet stream of Sovaraign humors in that well-
tempered Lady, to run against him, yet found he safety in her self,
against that selfness which appeared to threaten him in her. For this
happily born and bred Princess was not (subject-like) apt to construe
things reverently done in the worst sense; but rather with the spirit
of annointed Greatness (as created to reign equally over frail and
strong) more desirous to find waies to fashion her people, than
colours, or causes to punish them.
Lastly, to prove* nothing can be wise, that is not really honest*;
every man of that time, and consequently of all times may know, that
if he should have used the same freedome among the grandees of the
Court (their profession being not commonly to dispute Princes purposes
for truth's sake, but second their humours to govern their Kingdomes
by them) he must infallibly have found Worth, Justice, and Duty lookt
upon with no other EYES but LAMIA'S; and so have been stained by that
reigning faction, which in all Courts allows no faith currant to a
Soveraign, that hath not passed the seal of their practising
corporation.
Thus stood the Court at this time; and thus stood this ingenuous
spirit [Sidney] in it. If dangerously in mens opinions who are curious
of the present, and in it rather to doe craftily, than well: Yet, I
say, that Princely heart of hers was a Sanctuary unto him; And as for
the people, in whom many times the lasting images of Worth are
preferred before the temporary visons of art, or favour, he could not
fear to suffer any thing there, which would not prove a kind of Trophy
to him. So that howsoever he seemed to stand alone, yet he stood
upright; kept his access to his Majesty as before; a liberall
conversation with the French, reverenced amongst the worthiest of them
for himself, and born in too strong a fortification of nature for the
less worth to abbord, either with question, familiarity, or scorn.
In this freedome, even while the greatest spritis and Estates seemed
hood-winkt, or blind; and the inferior sort of men made captive by
hope, fear, ignorance; did he enjoy the freedome of his thoughts, with
all recreations worth of them.
And in this freedome of heart being one day at Tennis...
(enter Monster/Tyrant)
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ENCYCLOPEDIA
LA′MIA (Lamia). 1. A daughter of Poseidon, became by Zeus the mother
of the Sibyl Herophile. (Paus. x. 12. § 1; Plut. de Pyth. Orac. 9.) 2.
A female phantom, by which children were frightened. According to
tradition, she was originally a Libyan queen, of great beauty, and a
daughter of Belus. She was beloved by Zeus, and Hera in her jealousy
robbed her of her children. Lamia, from revenge and despair, robbed
others of their children, and murdered them; and the savage cruelty in
which she now indulged rendered her ugly, and her face became
fearfully distorted. Zeus gave her the power of taking her eyes out of
her head, and putting them in again. (Diod. xx. 41; Suidas, s. v. ;
Plut. de Curios. 2; Schol. ad Aristoph. Pac. 757; Strab. i. p. 19.)
Some ancients called her the mother of Scylla. (Eustath. ad Hom. p.
1714; Arist. de Mor. vii. 5.) In later times Lamiae were conceived as
handsome ghostly women, who by voluptuous artifices attracted young
men, in order to enjoy their fresh, youthful, and pure flesh and
blood. They were thus in ancient times what the vampires are in modern
legends. (Philostr. Vit. Apollon. iv. 25; Horat. de Art. Poet. 340;
Isidor. Orig. viii. 11; Apulei. Met. i. p. 57.)
Source: Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology.
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Lamia
by Micha F. Lindemans
The ancient Greeks believed that the Lamia was a vampire who stole
little children to drink their blood. She was portrayed as a snake-
like creature with a female head and breasts. Usually female, but
sometimes referred to as a male or a hermaphrodite.
According to legend, she was once a Libyan queen (or princess) who
fell in love with Zeus. Zeus' jealous wife Hera deformed her into a
monster and murdered their offspring. She also made Lamia unable to
close her eyes, so that she couldn't find any rest from the obsessing
image of her dead children. When Zeus saw what had be done to Lamia,
he felt pity for her and gave his former lover a gift: she could
remove her eyes, and then put them on again. This way, though
sleepless, she could rest from her misfortune. Lamia envied the other
mothers and took her vengeance by stealing their children and
devouring them.
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LAMIA was a child-devouring Daimon. She was a daughter of the god
Poseidon, and the mother of the sea-monsters Skylla and Akheilos. Her
name and family suggest she was originally imagined as a large,
aggressive shark.
In one story, Lamia was a Libyan queen loved by the god Zeus. When his
jealous wife Hera learned of their affair she stole away her children.
Lamia went mad with grief, and tore out her own eyes. Zeus then
transformed her into a monster allowing her to exact her revenge by
hunting and devouring the children of others.
Lamia often appears as a bogey-monster, a night-haunting demon which
preyed on children. She was sometimes pluralised into ghostly, man-
devouring demon Lamiai.
The Greek word lamia means dangerous lone-shark. Such sharks were also
referred to as ketea (sea-monsters). As such it is likely that she was
identified with the monstrous sea-goddess Keto. Both Lamia (Lone-
Shark) and Keto (Sea-Monster) were said to have spawned the monster
Skylla (the Rending One). Another child of Lamia was the boy Akheilos
(the Lipless One) who was transformed into a shark by the goddess
Aphrodite.
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Talus punishes Don Braggadochio:
Canto V, Faerie Queene:
...But Talus by the backe the boaster hent,
And drawing him out of the open hall,
Vpon him did inflict this punishment.
First he his beard did shaue, and fowly shent:
Then from him reft his shield, and it renuerst,
And blotted out his armes with falshood blent,
And himselfe baffuld, and his armes vnherst,
And broke his sword in twaine, and all his armour sperst.
The whiles his guilefull groome was fled away:
But vaine it was to thinke from him to flie.
Who ouertaking him did disaray,
And all his face deform'd with infamie,
And out of court him scourged openly.
So ought all faytours, that true knighthood shame,
And armes dishonour with base villanie,
From all braue knights be banisht with defame:
For oft their lewdnes blotteth good deserts with blame.
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Brag \Brag\, n.
1. A boast or boasting; bragging; ostentatious pretense or
self glorification.
C[ae]sar . . . made not here his brag Of ``came,''
and ``saw,'' and ``overcame.'' --Shak.
2. The thing which is boasted of.
Beauty is Nature's brag. --Milton.
3. A game at cards similar to bluff. --Chesterfield.
Brag \Brag\, a. [See Brag, v. i.]
Brisk; full of spirits; boasting; pretentious; conceited.
[Archaic]
A brag young fellow. --B. Jonson.
Brag \Brag\, v. i. [imp. & p. p. Bragged; p. pr. & vb. n.
Bragging.] [OE. braggen to resound, blow, boast (cf. F.
braguer to lead a merry life, flaunt, boast, OF. brague
merriment), from Icel. braka to creak, brak noise, fr. the
same root as E. break; properly then, to make a noise, boast.
?95.]
To talk about one's self, or things pertaining to one's self,
in a manner intended to excite admiration, envy, or wonder;
to talk boastfully; to boast; -- often followed by of; as, to
brag of one's exploits, courage, or money, or of the great
things one intends to do.
Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, Brags of
his substance, not of ornament. --Shak.
Syn: To swagger; boast; vapor; bluster; vaunt; flourish; talk
big.
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As You Like It
Rosalind. O, I know where you are. Nay, 'tis true. There was never
any thing so sudden but the fight of two rams and Caesar's
thrasonical brag of 'I came, saw, and overcame.'
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Braggadochio and 'False' Florimell:
Faerie Queene, Bk. V, Canto III
The spousals of faire Florimell,
where turney many knights:
There Braggadochio is vncas'd
in all the Ladies sights.
A Fter long stormes and tempests ouerblowne,
The sunne at length his ioyous face doth cleare:
So when as fortune all her spight hath showne,
Some blisfull houres at last must needes appeare;
Else should afflicted wights oftimes despeire.
So comes it now to Florimell by tourne,
After long sorrowes suffered whyleare,
In which captiu'd she many moneths did mourne,
To tast of ioy, and to wont pleasures to retourne.
Who being freed from Proteus cruell band
By Marinell, was vnto him affide,
And by him brought againe to Faerie land;
Where he her spous'd, and made his ioyous bride.
The time and place was blazed farre and wide;
And solemne feasts and giusts ordain'd therefore.
To which there did resort from euery side
Of Lords and Ladies infinite great store;
Ne any Knight was absent, that braue courage bore.
(snip)
But what on earth can alwayes happie stand?
The greater prowesse greater perils find.
So farre he past amongst his enemies band,
That they haue him enclosed so behind,
As by no meanes he can himselfe outwind.
And now perforce they haue him prisoner taken;
And now they doe with captiue bands him bind;
And now they lead him thence, of all forsaken,
Vnlesse some succour had in time him ouertaken.
It fortun'd whylest they were thus ill beset,
Sir Artegall into the Tilt-yard came,
With Braggadochio, whom he lately met
Vpon the way, with that his snowy Dame.
Where when he vnderstood by common fame,
What euill hap to Marinell betid,
He much was mou'd at so vnworthie shame,
And streight that boaster prayd, with whom he rid,
To change his shield with him, to be better hid.
So forth he went, and soone them ouer hent,
Where they were leading Marinell away,
Whom he assayld with dreadlesse hardiment,
And forst the burden of their prize to stay.
They were an hundred knights of that array;
Of which th'one halfe vpon himselfe did set,
The other stayd behind to gard the pray.
But he ere long the former fiftie bet;
And from the other fiftie soone the prisoner fet.
So backe he brought Sir Marinell againe;
Whom hauing quickly arm'd againe anew,
They both together ioyned might and maine,
To set afresh on all the other crew.
Whom with sore hauocke soone they ouerthrew,
And chaced quite out of the field, that none
Against them durst his head to perill shew.
So were they left Lords of the field alone:
So Marinell by him was rescu'd from his fone.
Which when he had perform'd, then backe againe
To Braggadochio did his shield restore:
Who all this while behind him did remaine,
Keeping there close with him in pretious store
That his false Ladie, as ye heard afore.
Then did the trompets sound, and Iudges rose,
And all these knights, which that day armour bore,
Came to the open hall, to listen whose
The honour of the prize should be adiudg'd by those.
And thether also came in open sight
Fayre Florimell, into the common hall,
To greet his guerdon vnto euery knight,
And best to him, to whom the best should fall.
Then for that stranger knight they loud did call,
To whom that day they should the girlond yield.
Who came not forth, but for Sir Artegall
Came Braggadochio, and did shew his shield,
Which bore the Sunne brode blazed in a golden field.
The sight whereof did all with gladnesse fill:
So vnto him they did addeeme the prise
Of all that Tryumph. Then the trompets shrill
Don Braggadochios name resounded thrise:
So courage lent a cloke to cowardise.
And then to him came fayrest Florimell,
And goodly gan to greet his braue emprise,
And thousand thankes him yeeld, that had so well
Approu'd that day, that she all others did excell.
To whom the boaster, that all knights did blot,
With proud disdaine did scornefull answere make;
That what he did that day, he did it not
For her, but for his owne deare Ladies sake,
Whom on his perill he did vndertake,
Both her and eke all others to excell:
And further did vncomely speaches crake.
Much did his words the gentle Ladie quell,
And turn'd aside for shame to heare, what he did tell.
Then forth he brought his snowy Florimele,
Whom Trompart had in keeping there beside,
Couered from peoples gazement with a vele.
Whom when discouered they had throughly eide,
With great amazement they were stupefide;
And said, that surely Florimell it was,
Or if it were not Florimell so tride,
That Florimell her selfe she then did pas.
So feeble skill of perfect things the vulgar has.
Which when as Marinell beheld likewise,
He was therewith exceedingly dismayd;
Ne wist he what to thinke, or to deuise,
But like as one, whom feends had made affrayd,
He long astonisht stood, ne ought he sayd,
Ne ought he did, but with fast fixed eies
He gazed still vpon that snowy mayd;
Whom euer as he did the more auize,
The more to be true Florimell he did surmize.
As when two sunnes appeare in the azure skye,
Mounted in Phoebus charet fierie bright,
Both darting forth faire beames to each mans eye,
And both adorn'd with lampes of flaming light,
All that behold so strange prodigious sight,
Not knowing natures worke, nor what to weene,
Are rapt with wonder, and with rare affright.
So stood Sir Marinell, when he had seene
The semblant of this false by his faire beauties Queene.
All which when Artegall, who all this while
Stood in the preasse close couered, well aduewed,
And saw that boasters pride and gracelesse guile,
He could no longer beare, but forth issewed,
And vnto all himselfe there open shewed,
And to the boaster said; Thou losell base,
That hast with borrowed plumes thy selfe endewed,
And others worth with leasings doest deface,
When they are all restor'd, thou shalt rest in disgrace.
That shield, which thou doest beare, was it indeed,
Which this dayes honour sau'd to Marinell;
But not that arme, nor thou the man I reed,
Which didst that seruice vnto Florimell.
For proofe shew forth thy sword, and let it tell,
What strokes, what dreadfull stoure it stird this day:
Or shew the wounds, which vnto thee befell;
Or shew the sweat, with which thou diddest sway
So sharpe a battell, that so many did dismay.
But this the sword, which wrought those cruell stounds,
And this the arme, the which that shield did beare,
And these the signes, (so shewed forth his wounds)
By which that glorie gotten doth appeare.
As for this Ladie, which he sheweth here,
Is not (I wager) Florimell at all;
But some fayre Franion, fit for such a fere,
That by misfortune in his hand did fall.
For proofe whereof, he bad them Florimell forth call.
So forth the noble Ladie was ybrought,
Adorn'd with honor and all comely grace:
Whereto her bashfull shamefastnesse ywrought
A great increase in her faire blushing face;
As roses did with lillies interlace.
For of those words, the which that boaster threw,
She inly yet conceiued great disgrace.
Whom when as all the people such did vew,
They shouted loud, and signes of gladnesse all did shew.
Then did he set her by that snowy one,
Like the true saint beside the image set,
Of both their beauties to make paragone,
And triall, whether should the honor get.
Streight way so soone as both together met,
Th'enchaunted Damzell vanisht into nought:
Her snowy substance melted as with heat,
Ne of that goodly hew remayned ought,
But th'emptie girdle, which about her wast was wrought.
As when the daughter of Thaumantes faire,
Hath in a watry cloud displayed wide
Her goodly bow, which paints the liquid ayre;
That all men wonder at her colours pride;
All suddenly, ere one can looke aside,
The glorious picture vanisheth away,
Ne any token doth thereof abide:
So did this Ladies goodly forme decay,
And into nothing goe, ere one could it bewray.
Which when as all that present were, beheld,
They stricken were with great astonishment,
And their faint harts with senselesse horrour queld,
To see the thing, that seem'd so excellent,
So stolen from their fancies wonderment;
That what of it became, none vnderstood.
And Braggadochio selfe with dreriment
So daunted was in his despeyring mood,
That like a lifelesse corse immoueable he stood.
But Artegall that golden belt vptooke,
The which of all her spoyle was onely left;
Which was not hers, as many it mistooke,
But Florimells owne girdle, from her reft,
While she was flying, like a weary weft,
From that foule monster, which did her compell
To perils great; which he vnbuckling eft,
Presented to the fayrest Florimell;
Who round about her tender wast it fitted well.
Full many Ladies often had assayd,
About their middles that faire belt to knit;
And many a one suppos'd to be a mayd:
Yet it to none of all their loynes would fit,
Till Florimell about her fastned it.
Such power it had, that to no womans wast
By any skill or labour it would sit,
Vnlesse that she were continent and chast,
But it would lose or breake, that many had disgrast.
Whilest thus they busied were bout Florimell,
And boastfull Braggadochio to defame,
Sir Guyon as by fortune then befell,
Forth from the thickest preasse of people came,
His owne good steed, which he had stolne, to clame;
And th'one hand seizing on his golden bit,
With th'other drew his sword: for with the same
He ment the thiefe there deadly to haue smit:
And had he not bene held, he nought had fayld of it.
Thereof great hurly burly moued was
Throughout the hall, for that same warlike horse.
For Braggadochio would not let him pas;
And Guyon would him algates haue perforse,
Or it approue vpon his carrion corse.
Which troublous stirre when Artegall perceiued,
He nigh them drew to stay th'auengers forse,
And gan inquire, how was that steed bereaued,
Whether by might extort, or else by slight deceaued.
Who all that piteous storie, which befell
About that wofull couple, which were slaine,
And their young bloodie babe to him gan tell;
With whom whiles he did in the wood remaine,
His horse purloyned was by subtill traine:
For which he chalenged the thiefe to fight.
But he for nought could him thereto constraine.
For as the death he hated such despight,
And rather had to lose, then trie in armes his right.
Which Artegall well hearing, though no more
By law of armes there neede ones right to trie,
As was the wont of warlike knights of yore,
Then that his foe should him the field denie,
Yet further right by tokens to descrie,
He askt, what priuie tokens he did beare.
If that (said Guyon) may you satisfie,
Within his mouth a blacke spot doth appeare,
Shapt like a horses shoe, who list to seeke it there.
Whereof to make due tryall, one did take
The horse in hand, within his mouth to looke:
But with his heeles so sorely he him strake,
That all his ribs he quite in peeces broke,
That neuer word from that day forth he spoke.
Another that would seeme to haue more wit,
Him by the bright embrodered hedstall tooke:
But by the shoulder him so sore he bit,
That he him maymed quite, and all his shoulder split.
Ne he his mouth would open vnto wight,
Vntill that Guyon selfe vnto him spake,
And called Brigadore (so was he hight)
Whose voice so soone as he did vndertake,
Eftsoones he stood as still as any stake,
And suffred all his secret marke to see:
And when as he him nam'd, for ioy he brake
His bands, and follow'd him with gladfull glee,
And friskt, and flong aloft, and louted low on knee.
Thereby Sir Artegall did plaine areed,
That vnto him the horse belong'd, and sayd;
Lo there Sir Guyon, take to you the steed,
As he with golden saddle is arayd;
And let that losell, plainely now displayd,
Hence fare on foot, till he an horse haue gayned.
But the proud boaster gan his doome vpbrayd,
And him reuil'd, and rated, and disdayned,
That iudgement so vniust against him had ordayned.
Much was the knight incenst with his lewd word,
To haue reuenged that his villeny;
And thrise did lay his hand vpon his sword,
To haue him slaine, or dearely doen aby.
But Guyon did his choler pacify,
Saying, Sir knight, it would dishonour bee
To you, that are our iudge of equity,
To wreake your wrath on such a carle as hee:
It's punishment enough, that all his shame doe see.
So did he mitigate Sir Artegall;
But Talus by the backe the boaster hent,
And drawing him out of the open hall,
Vpon him did inflict this punishment.
First he his beard did shaue, and fowly shent:
Then from him reft his shield, and it renuerst,
And blotted out his armes with falshood blent,
And himselfe baffuld, and his armes vnherst,
And broke his sword in twaine, and all his armour sperst.
The whiles his guilefull groome was fled away:
But vaine it was to thinke from him to flie.
Who ouertaking him did disaray,
And all his face deform'd with infamie,
And out of court him scourged openly.
So ought all faytours, that true knighthood shame,
And armes dishonour with base villanie,
From all braue knights be banisht with defame:
For oft their lewdnes blotteth good deserts with blame.
Now when these counterfeits were thus vncased
Out of the foreside of their forgerie,
And in the sight of all men cleane disgraced,
All gan to iest and gibe full merilie
At the remembrance of their knauerie.
Ladies can laugh at Ladies, Knights at Knights,
To thinke with how great vaunt of brauerie
He them abused, through his subtill slights,
And what a glorious shew he made in all their sights.
There leaue we them in pleasure and repast,
Spending their ioyous dayes and gladfull nights,
And taking vsurie of time forepast,
With all deare delices and rare delights,
Fit for such Ladies and such louely knights:
And turne we here to this faire furrowes end
Our wearie yokes, to gather fresher sprights,
That when as time to Artegall shall tend,
We on his first aduenture may him forward send.
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Dennis