Emily Chazen

Professor Briggs
Spenser and Milton
30 September 2016
Pride and Power: Lucifera’s Relationship to Elizabeth I in Spenser’s The Faerie Queene

Grappling with the status of both the royal court and Queen Elizabeth, Edmund Spenser, in

his The Faerie Queen, juxtaposes images of Elizabeth with those of a queen of his own

imagining: Lucifera. The self-appointed ruler of the House of Pride, Lucifera embodies and fails

in matching the qualities of Elizabeth and her court. In this paper, I will argue that Spenser

describes similarities between Elizabeth, her court, and Lucifera to critique the pride perpetuated

by the materialism inherent within royalty; he further suggests through Lucifera that this pride

has the potential to become the propagator of sin, one which leads those in the royal court toward

quasi-gluttonously searching for never-ending wealth and deifying themselves as equivalents of

G-d. However, Spenser concurrently presents images of Lucifera that directly contradict

historical knowledge about Elizabeth’s tendencies—namely her absence of vanity and her

divinely-sanctioned, timely ascendance to power—to suggest that Elizabeth does not succumb to

the proud temptations of royalty; in doing so, Spenser legitimates her overarching political

power.

Opening his commentary on Queen Elizabeth with an examination the superfluous excesses

of royalty, Spenser positions the beauty of Lucifera—and, by extension, Queen Elizabeth—as, in

part, the product of materialism. As a “mayden Queene,” described as possessing “bright blazing

beautie,” Lucifera is, in one sense, celebrated by Spenser in ways that speak directly to his

portrayal and understanding of Elizabeth (I.IV.8). And yet, embedded within the representations

of Lucifera are subtle criticisms of the royal court on the whole. Emitting a layer of
“brightnesse” on her throne, as does Elizabeth, who is often equated with the chaste moon

goddess Cynthia, Lucifera’s existence is furnished with glorious extravagances: “a rich throne,”

“royall robes,” “gorgeous array,” “glistring gold,” and “peerelesse pretious stone” (I.IV.8). These

luxuries are immersed and, in a sense, tainted by their existence within the House of Pride;

Lucifera herself is “so proud” of the ways in which she shines amidst extravagancy (I.IV.10).

From this stems a quiet criticism of royalty, particularly of the court of Elizabeth and the

“mayden Queene” herself: by relishing openly in the benefits of luxury and utilizing them to

bolster her own “bright blazing beautie,” the Queen and her court imbue pride and invite sin

(I.IV.8).

Perhaps even worse in Spenser’s mind is that this sin is not static; it is an ongoing immersion

in an unquenchable thirst for lavishness and wealth that spurs additional pride. Reflecting on her

brightness, a beauty spurred by her connection to material excess, Lucifera “so proud… shynéd

in her Princely state / Looking to heaven; for earth she did disdayne / And sitting high; for lowly

she did hate” (I.IV.10). Thus, amidst her “Princely state”—that is, in the face of her physical

extravagance—she seeks more than is attainable on the earth and looks instead to heaven; she

believes herself to be superior to all other life forms— “sitting high”—and in essence perceives

herself as worthy of the admiration and additional goods that G-d Himself can provide her

(I.IV.10). Even still, “underneath her scornefull feete, was layne / a dreadfull Dragon with an

hideous trayne” (I.IV.10). Reminiscent of the Red Crosse Knight’s earlier battles, the dragon

evokes images of error. By positioning Lucifera as having her “scornefull feete” atop a dragon,

Spenser suggests that she haughtily believes that she not only has the right to approach godliness

but also that she has conquered error in its entirety; her actions are, in her mind, the wholly

solicited product of her status as royal, and she must be ineffable. She therefore empowers
herself to continue not only her indulgence in her proud ways but also in the belief that any act

she takes is indelibly correct; in essence, she not only positions herself as worthy of earthly

revelry but also as able to judge right and wrong, rendering herself a human form of G-d.

Therein lies the danger of courtliness, of that which Elizabeth engages into her court and

inspires: pride creates insatiable desire, and from this desire, one blasphemes by undermining the

authority of G-d and assuming the infallibility of the self.

And yet, at the same time as Spenser posits proud status of royal courts vis-à-vis Lucifera, he

also creates significant distinctions that differentiate Elizabeth from Lucifera to suggest that,

while Elizabeth may be subsumed within royal culture, she is not consumed by it. While

Lucifera, immersed within her own pride, “in her hand… held a mirrhour bright / wherein her

face she often vewéd fayne,” Elizabeth was historically known for being quite the opposite

(I.IV.10). Concerned with her public image, she was not particularly vain and was uninterested

in self-admiration but with proper and appropriate documentation of her reign; along this vein,

she was rarely depicted in paintings. Of course, while some might argue this speaks directly to

her vanity, as it highlights an ongoing desire to be portrayed properly and as she sees fit, her

devotion to restricting circulation of her image directly contends with the superfluous self-

promotion of past monarchs (Class Notes Sept 2). Thus, while Elizabeth certainly indulges in the

luxuries of royalty, she does manage to avoid the proud vanity that Lucifera actually engages

with; in a sense, then, she separates and distinguishes herself from the vices of royalty. Such an

ability to resist the vanity—a sin for which pride is certainly a catalyst—amidst unbelievable

extravagance speaks to a high level of moral aptitude on her part, portraying her as an arbiter of

spiritual excellence in the midst of a flawed court. Spenser therein crafts a Lucifera that elicits in
us a recognition of Elizabeth’s high ethics, praising her while still maintaining his criticism of

the overarching social structure of royalty.

And amidst the hubris that sparks Lucifera’s self-determined status as an embodied G-d,

Spenser distinguishes Lucifera’s illegitimate claim to power to that of Elizabeth, highlighting the

British monarch’s divinely-sanctioned authority; in doing this, he suggests that Elizabeth has not

succumbed to the pride inherent in royal courts. Despite maintaining claims to power in the

House of Pride, Lucifera was not providentially destined for the position she holds; instead, she

takes matters into her own hands: while “rightfull kingdome she had none at all / ne heritage of

native soveraintie / [she] did usurpe with wrong and tyrannie / upon the scepter, which she now

did hold” (I.IV.12). In some sense, her queenliness might be the direct result of her

aforementioned perception of self as “sitting high,” which leads her to feel disdain toward the

lowly (I.IV.10). Thus, as a product of her pride, Lucifera seeks to undermine fate and take

matters into her own hand by imposing her own reign; in essence, she not only defies G-d’s plan,

an inherently sinful act, but also elucidates her self-righteous belief to act “as G-d” and

determine authority. Presented with a similar opportunity, Elizabeth historically does not opt to

do the same. Amidst extreme political turmoil—with her half-sister, Bloody Mary, sitting in a

position of unfavorable power and brutally murdering Protestants in England—Elizabeth does

not look to claim the throne, even though she could have asserted herself; instead, she patiently

awaits Mary’s death to mark her own ascent. By waiting, she essentially depends upon a G-dly

promise in Mary’s lack of successor to propel her to the throne. What Spenser commends, then,

by distinguishing Elizabeth from Lucifera is Elizabeth’s resistance to pride and, thereby, her

divine authority; she, unlike Lucifera, has not usurped the power of man nor the power of G-d to

determine her ascendancy. Spenser thus lauds her for relinquishing the grips of pride, exerting
self-control and humility, and patiently awaiting her chance to take the throne. In a time when

Elizabeth’s power is consistently being questioned—particularly by Mary Queen of Scots (who

she later executes for this very reason)—it is critical, then, that Spenser portrays Elizabeth as not

only an arbiter between royalty and pride but also as a divinely-sanctioned constituent; in doing

so, he defends the legitimacy of her power and likewise fends off the claims of others to that

very power.

While there is no denying that Spenser actively criticizes the royal court through his

representation of the striking similarities between Elizabeth and his own creation of Lucifera,

then, the inconsistencies in their traits suggests Spenser’s ongoing commendation of Elizabeth’s

actions and her ability to divert the pride that seeks to be an implicit force within royalty. Amidst

power and material indulgence, Spenser marks the ways in which the royal court is a failed

social system that allows for superfluous extravagance that allows for conflated self-images of

those in power; likewise, the court has the potential to suggest the self-determined holiness of its

constituents and allows them to blaspheme against G-d by presuming themselves to be His

equals. And yet, at the same time, he suggests that, although Elizabeth is certainly engaged with

and physically immersed in a proud world of materiality, failed spirituality, and perceptible flaw,

she does not succumb to that world—that is, she maintains the guise of royalty but, in her

personality and actions, does not embrace or reflect the behaviors that Spenser so actively

critiques. As a divinely-sanctioned queen who does not partake in the vanity of royalty, she

manages to defy the temptations put forth by luxury and exert her rightfully-claimed power

amidst potentials for pride. Spenser’s work thus manages to reconcile the apparently discordant

perceptions of royalty and Elizabeth; in doing so, he brings unity to a time marked by its

tumultuous religious, social, and political upheaval.