Who, whiles he livde, was called proud For golden Phoebus, now ymounted hie, Sansfoy: The eldest of three brethren, all three bred Of one bad sire, whose youngest is Sansjoy, And twixt them both was born the bloudy bold Sansloy. XXVI 'In this sad plight, friendlesse, unfortunate, Now miserable I Fidessa dwell, Craving of you, in pitty of my state, To doe none ill, if please ye not doe well.' He in great passion al this while did dwell, More busying his quicke eies, her face to view, Then his dull eares, to heare what shee did tell; And said, 'Faire lady, hart of flint would rew The undeserved woes and sorrowes which ye shew. XXVII 'Henceforth in safe assuraunce may ye rest, Having both found a new friend you to aid, And lost an old foe, that did you molest: Better new friend then an old foe is said.' With chaunge of chear the seeming simple maid Let fal her eien, as shamefast, to the earth, And yeelding soft, in that she nought gainsaid, So forth they rode, he feining seemely merth, And shee coy lookes: so dainty, they say, maketh derth. XXVIII Long time they thus together traveiled, Their armes abroad, with gray mosse overcast, And their greene leaves, trembling with every blast, Made a calme shadowe far in compasse round: The fearefull shepheard, often there aghast, Under them never sat, ne wont there sound His mery oaten pipe, but shund th' unlucky ground. XXIX But this good knight, soone as he them can spie, For the coole shade him thither hastly got: From fiery wheeles of his faire chariot From the fierce heat, and rest their weary limbs a tide. '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 plight Till we be bathed in a living well; 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 knight Full of sad feare and ghastly dreriment, And now it is empassioned so deepe, To thinke how she through guyleful handeling, |