XXXI

Therewith a piteous yelling voice was heard,
Crying,O! spare with guilty hands to teare
My tender sides in this rough rynd embard;
But fly, ah! fly far hence away, for feare
Least to you hap that happened to me heare,
And to this wretched Lady, my deare love;
O, too deare love, love bought with death too
deare!'

Astond he stood, and up his heare did hove;
And with that suddein horror could no member

move.

XXXII

At last whenas the dreadfull passion
Was overpast, and manhood well awake,
Yet musing at the straunge occasion,
And doubting much his sence, he thus bespake:
'What voice of damned Ghost from Limbo lake,
Or guilefull spright wandring in empty aire,
Both which fraile men doe oftentimes mistake,
Sends to my doubtful eares these speaches rare,
And ruefull plaints, me bidding guiltlesse
blood to spare?'

XXXIII

XXXVI

'Whose forged beauty he did take in hand
All other Dames to have exceeded farre :
I in defence of mine did likewise stand, [starre.
Mine, that did then shine as the Morning
So both to batteill fierce arraunged arre,
In which his harder fortune was to fall
Under my speare: such is the dye of warre.
His Lady, left as a prise martiall,
Did yield her comely person to be at my call.

XXXVII

'So doubly lov'd of ladies, unlike faire,
Th' one seeming such, the other such indeede,
One day in doubt I cast for to compare
Whether in beauties glorie did exceede:
A Rosy girlond was the victors meede.
Both seemde to win, and both seemde won to
So hard the discord was to be agreede. [bee,
Frælissa was as faire as faire mote bee,
And ever false Duessa seemde as faire as shee.

XXXVIII

'The wicked witch, now seeing all this while The doubtfull ballaunce equally to sway, Then, groning deep; Nor damned Ghost,' What not by right she cast to win by guile; (quoth he,) [speake; And by her hellish science raisd streight way 'Nor guileful sprite to thee these words doth A foggy mist that overcast the day, But once a man, Fradubio, now a tree; [weake And a dull blast, that breathing on her face Wretched man, wretched tree! whose nature Dimmed her former beauties shining ray, A cruell witch, her cursed will to wreake, Hath thus transformd, and plast in open plaines, Where Boreas doth blow full bitter bleake, And scorching Sunne does dry my secret vaines; For though a tree I seme, yet cold and heat me paines.'

XXXIV

And with foule ugly forme did her disgrace: Then was she fayre alone, when none was faire in place.

6

'Say on, Fradubio, then, or man or tree,'
Quoth then the Knight; 'by whose mischievous.
Art thou misshaped thus, as now I see? [arts
He oft finds medicine who his griefe imparts,
But double griefs afflict concealing harts,
As raging flames who striveth to suppresse.'
'The author then,' (said he) 'of all my smarts,
Is one Duessa, a false sorceresse,

XXXIX

'Then cride she out, "Fye, fye! deformed wight,

To have before bewitched all mens sight: Whose borrowed beautie now appeareth plaine O! leave her soone, or let her soone be slaine." Her loathly visage viewing with disdaine, Eftsoones I thought her such as she me told, And would have kild her; but with faigned paine [hold: The false witch did my wrathfull hand withThat many errant knights hath broght to So left her, where she now is turnd to treen

wretchednesse.

mould.

XL

Thensforth I tooke Duessa for my Dame,
And in the witch unweeting joyd long time,
Ne ever wist but that she was the same;
Till on a day (that day is everie Prime,
When Witches wont do penance for their
I chaunst to see her in her proper hew, [crime,)
Bathing her selfe in origane and thyme:
A filthy foule old woman I did vew, [rew.
That ever to have toucht her I did deadly

XLI

'Her neather partes misshapen, monstruous,
Were hidd in water, that I could not see;
But they did seeme more foule and hideous,
Then womans shape man would beleeve to bee.
Thensforth from her most beastly companie
I gan refraine, in minde to slipp away,
Soone as appeard safe opportunitie:
For danger great, if not assurd decay, [stray.
I saw before mine eyes, if I were knowne to

XLII

That is the terme prescribed by the spell.'
O! how,' sayd he, 'mote I that well out find,
That may restore you to your wonted well?
Time and suffised fates to former kynd
Shall us restore; none else from hence may
us unbynd.'

XLIV

The false Duessa, now Fidessa hight, Heard how in vaine Fradubio did lament, And knew well all was true. But the good Full of sad feare and ghastly dreriment, [ knight, When all this speech the living tree had spent, 'The divelish hag by chaunges of my cheare The bleeding bough did thrust into the ground, Perceiv'd my thought; and, drownd in sleepie That from the blood he might be innocent, night, [smeare And with fresh clay did close the wooden With wicked herbes and oyntments did bewound: [her fownd. My body all, through charmes and magicke Then, turning to his Lady, dead with feare

might,

That all my senses were bereaved quight:
Then brought she me into this desert waste,
And by my wretched lovers side me pight;
Where now, enclosd in wooden wals full faste,
Banisht from living wights, our wearie daies

we waste.'

XLIII

'But how long time,' said then the Elfin
knight,

'Are you in this misformed hous to dwell?'
'We may not chaunge,' (quoth he,)' this evill
Till we be bathed in a living well: [plight,'

I

XLV

Her seeming dead he fownd with feigned
feare,

As all unweeting of that well she knew;
And paynd himselfe with busie care to reare
Her out of carelesse swowne. Her eyelids blew,
And dimmed sight, with pale and deadly hew,
At last she up gan lift: with trembling cheare
Her up he tooke, (too simple and too trew)
And oft her kist. At length, all passed feare,
He set her on her steede, and forward forth
did beare.

CANTO III.

Forsaken Truth long seekes her love,
And makes the Lyon mylde;
Marres blind Devotions mart, and fals
In hand of leachour vylde.

NOUGHT is there under heav'ns wide hollow nesse,

nesse

Though true as touch, though daughter of a king,

Though faire as ever living wight was fayre, That moves more deare compassion of mind, Though nor in word nor deede ill meriting, Then beautie brought t'unworthie wretched- Is from her knight divorced in despayre, [unkind. And her dew loves deryv'd to that vile witches Through envies snares, or fortunes freakes shayre. I, whether lately through her brightnes blynd, Or through alleageance, and fast fealty, Which I do owe unto all womankynd, Feele my hart perst with so great agony, When such I see, that all for pitty I could dy.

II

And now it is empassioned so deepe,
For fairest Unaes sake, of whom I sing,
That my frayle eies these lines with teares do
steepe,

To thinke how she through guyleful handeling,

III

Yet she, most faithfull Ladie, all this while
Forsaken, wofull, solitarie mayd,
Far from all peoples preace, as in exile,
In wildernesse and wastfull deserts strayd,
To seeke her knight; who, subtily betrayd
Through that late vision which th'Enchaunter
wrought,

Had her abandond. She, of nought affrayd,
Through woods and wastnes wide him daily
sought;
[brought.
Yet wished tydinges none of him unto her

With whom he whoredome usd, that few did
And fed her fatt with feast of offerings, [know, Whome overtaking, they gan loudly bray,
And plenty, which in all the land did grow: With hollow houling, and lamenting cry;
Ne spared lie to give her gold and rings; [things. Shamefully at her rayling all the way,
And now he to her brought part of his stolen And her accusing of dishonesty,

That was the flowre of faith and chastity:
And still, amidst her rayling, she did pray
That plagues, and mischiefes, and long misery,
Might fall on her, and follow all the way,
And that in endlesse error she might ever stray.

XXIV

XXVIII

He thereto meeting said, 'My dearest Dame, Far be it from your thought, and fro my wil, To thinke that knighthood I so much should shame,

As you to leave that have me loved stil, And chose in Faery court, of meere goodwil, But, when she saw her prayers nought pre- Where noblest knights were to be found on

vaile,

earth.