An Analysis of Selected Stanzas From Book II, Canto VII of Spenser’s Faerie Queene 1 :: Faerie Queene

An Analysis of Selected Stanzas From Book II, Canto VII of Spenser’s Faerie Queene 1 I Her face right wondrous faire did seeme to bee That her broad beauties beam great brightness threw Through the dim shade, that all men might it see: Yet was not that same her owne native hew, But wrought by art and counterfetted shew, Thereby more lovers unto her to call; Nath’lesse most heavenly faire in deed and vew She by creation was, till that she did fall; Thenceforth she sought for help, to cloke her crime withall. Philotime, at first glance, seems an aristocratic Acrasia. Both employ art to improve upon their natural beauty; captivate men with their looks—in every sense of the word; and lounge in luxury and ease. We also see a common insatiability: â€Å"Thereby more lovers unto her to call† (my italics), though Philotime’s desires never descend—or at least are never seen to descend— into the sexual realm of Acrasia’s. But here the similarities end. Philotime, like Acrasia, is—to coin a word—bedecked with seemingness. She sits â€Å"as in glistering glory†; and â€Å"wondrous faire did seem to bee,† (my italics). Clearly she is not all as she would seem2 and is making use of ornament to augment her beauty; but where Acrasia was possessed of only a surface beauty, Spenser, most importantly, brings a decided grandeur to Philotime, by tracing the source of her fairness to â€Å"creation.† Indeed, to further strengthen this allusion, Philotime seems to possess many of the qualities of Eve. Her beauty, though artificially maintained, for it vanished with her Luciferian â€Å"fall,† was nevertheless divinely ordained. Any artificiality we see in Philotime is used to help satisfy a greed and a vanity that feeds upon the attention of men. Accordingly, as we have said, her artfulness brings not simply lovers but â€Å"more† lovers. Like Mammon, the god of riches, it is quantity that counts, not quality. Notice, also, that Philotime lives in â€Å"dim shade.† Indeed, dimmer than dim: she lives in a cave. The light her looks beam, strangely, unnaturally, throw light not on others, but on herself. Here then is another indication of the unquestionable vanity of Philotime. If we might turn for a moment to Sir Guyon, still standing in the wings, and doubtless still feasting his eyes. We should remember that our noble knight represents no narrow Temperance, but a universal Temperance, one which addresses all temptations—and not only those of the senses.