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•O! but I feare the fickle freakes,' quoth

shee, "Of Fortune false, and oddes of armes in

field.' •Why, dame,' quoth he, “what oddes can

ever bee, Where both doe fight alike, to win or

yield ?' “Yea, but,' quoth she,' he beares a charmed

shield, And eke enchaunted armes, that none can

perce, Ne none can wound the man, that does

them wield. • Charmd or enchaunted,' answerd he then

ferce, •I no whitt reck, ne you the like need to


At last, the golden orientall gate
Of greatest heaven gan to open fayre,
And Phoebus, fresh as brydegrome to his

Came dauncing forth, shaking his deawie

hayre, And hurid his glistring beams through

gloomy ayre.
Which when the wakeful Elfe perceivd,

streight way
He started up, and did him selfe prepayre
In sunbright armes, and battailous array:
For with that Pagan proud he combatt will

that day.


And forth he comes into the commune hall,
Where earely waite him many a gazing eye,
To weet what end to straunger knights may



There many minstrales maken melody, But, faire Fidessa, sithens Fortunes guile, To drive away the dull melancholy, Or enimies powre, hath now captived you, And many bardes, that to the trembling Returne from whence ye came, and rest a

chord while,

Can tune their timely voices cunningly, Till morrow next, that I the Elfe subdew, And many chroniclers, that can record And with Sansfoyes dead dowry you en | Old loves, and warres for ladies doen by dew.'

many a lord. "Ay me! that is a double death,' she said, With proud foes sight my sorrow to re

IV new:

Soone after comes the cruell Sarazin, Where ever yet I be, my secrete aide In woven maile all armed warily, Shall follow you. So, passing forth, she And sternly lookes at him, who not a pin him obaid.

| Does care for looke of living creatures eye.



They bring them wines of Greece and Araby

VIII And daintie spices fetcht from furthest So th' one for wrong, the other strives for Ynd,

right: To kindle heat of corage privily:

As when a gryfon, seized of his pray, And in the wine a solemne oth they bynd | A dragon fiers encountreth in his flight, T observe the sacred lawes of armes, that Through widest ayre making his ydle way, are assynd.

That would his rightfull ravine rend away: With hideous horror both together smight,

And souce so sore, that they the heavens At last forth comes that far renowmed

affray: queene,

The wise southsayer, seeing so sad sight, With royall pomp and princely majestie: | Th' amazed vulgar telles of warres and She is ybrought unto a paled greene,

mortall fight. And placed under stately canapee, The warlike feates of both those knights to see.

So th’ one for wrong, the other strives for On th' other side, in all mens open vew,

right, Duessa placed is, and on a tree

And each to deadly shame would drive his Eansfoy his shield is hangd with bloody foe: hew:

The cruell steele so greedily doth bight Both those, the lawrell girlonds to the vic In tender flesh, that streames of blood down tor dew.

flow, With which the armes, that earst so bright

did show, A shrilling trompett sownded from on Into a pure vermillion now are dyde. hye,

Great ruth in all the gazers harts did grow, And unto battaill bad them selves addresse: Seeing the gored woundes to gape so wyde, Their shining shieldes about their wrestes That victory they dare not wish to .either they tye,

side. And burning blades about their heades doe

blesse, The instruments of wrath and heavinesse: | At last the Paynim chaunst to cast his eye, With greedy force each other doth assayle, His suddein eye, flaming with wrathfuli And strike so fiercely, that they doe im

fyre, presse

Upon his brothers shield, which hong Deepe dinted furrowes in the battred mayle:

thereby: The yron walles to ward their blowes are Therewith redoubled was his raging yre, weak and fraile.

And said: “Ah, wretched sonne of wofull


Doest thou sit wayling by blacke Stygian The Sarazin was stout, and wondrous strong,

lake, And hea ped blowes like yron hammers Whylest here thy shield is hangd for vicgreat:

tors hyre ? For after blood and vengeance he did long. And, sluggish german, doest thy forces slake The knight was fiers, and full of youthly To after-send his foe, that him may overheat,

take? And doubled strokes, like dreaded thunders threat:

XI For all for praise and honour he did fight. Goe, caytive Elfe, him quickly overtake, Both stricken stryke, and beaten both doe | And soone redeeme from his long wandring

woe: That from their shields forth flyeth firie Goe, guiltie ghost, to him my message make, light,

That I his shield have quit from dying foe.' And helmets, hewen deepe, shew marks of Therewith upon his crest he stroke him so, eithers might.

That twise he reeled, readie twise to fall:





End of the doubtfull battaile deemed tho Who all that while lay hid in secret shade:
The lookers on, and lowd to him gan call He standes amazed, how he thence should
The false Duessa, Thine the shield, and I,
and all!'

At last the trumpets triumph sound on hie,

And running heralds humble homage made, XII

Greeting him goodly with new victorie, Soone as the Faerie heard his ladie speake, And to him brought the shield, the cause Out of his swowning dreame he gan awake, of enmitie. And quickning faith, that earst was woxen weake,

XVI The creeping deadly cold away did shake: Wherewith he goeth to that soveraine Tho, mov'd with wrath, and shame, and

queene, ladies sake,

And falling her before on lowly knee, Of all attonce he cast avengd to be,

To her makes present of his service seene: And with so' exceeding furie at him strake, Which she accepts, with thankes and goodly That forced him to stoupe upon his knee:

gree, Had he not stouped so, he should have Greatly advauncing his gay chevalree: cloven bee.

So marcheth home, and by her takes the

knight, XIII

Whom all the people followe with great And to him said: “Goe now, proud mis glee, creant,

Shouting, and clapping all their hands on Thy selfe thy message do to german deare;

hight, Alone he, wandring, thee too long doth want: That all the ayre it fils, and flyes to heaven Goe say, his foe thy shield with his doth bright.

beare.' Therewith his heavie hand he high gan

XVII reare,

Home is he brought, and layd in sumpHim to have slaine; when lo! a darke

tuous bed: some clowd

Where many skilfull leaches him abide, Upon him fell: he no where doth appeare, To salve his hurts, that yet still freshly But vanisht is. The Elfe him calls alowd,

bled. But answer none receives: the darknes him In wine and oyle they wash his woundes does shrowd.

wide, And softly can embalme on everie side.

And all the while, most heavenly melody In haste Duessa from her place arose, About the bed sweet musicke did divide, And to him running sayd: 0 prowest Him to beguile of griefe and agony: knight,

And all the while Duessa wept full bitterly. That ever ladie to her love did chose, Let now abate the terrour of your might,

XVIII And quench the flame of furious despight | As when a wearie traveiler, that strayes And bloodie vengeance; lo ! th’ infernall By muddy shore of broad seven-mouthed powres,

Nile, Covering your foe with cloud of deadly Unweeting of the perillous wandring wayes, night,

Doth meete a cruell craftie crocodile, Have borne him hence to Plutoes balefull Which, in false griefe hyding his harmefull bowres.

guile, The conquest yours, I yours, the shield and Doth weepe full sore, and sheddeth tender glory yours !'.


The foolish man, that pitties all this while XV

His mournefull plight, is swallowd up unNot all so satisfide, with greedy eye

wares, He sought all round about, his thristy blade Forgetfull of his owne, that mindes an To bathe in blood of faithlesse enimy;

others cares.






With Elfin sword, most shamefully betrade? So wept Duessa untill eventyde,

Lo where the stout Sansjoy doth sleepe in That shyning lampes in Joves high house deadly shade!

were light: Then forth she rose, ne lenger would abide,

XXIII But comes unto the place, where th' he • And him before, I saw with bitter eyes then knight,

The bold Sansfoy shrinck underneath his In slombring swownd, nigh voyd of vitall

speare; spright,

And now the pray of fowles in field he lyes, Lay cover'd with inchaunted cloud all day: Nor wayld of friends, nor layd on groning Whom when she found, as she him left in

beare, plight,

That whylome was to me too dearely deare. To wayle his wofull case she would not stay, O what of gods then boots it to be borne, But to the easterne coast of heaven makes If old Aveugles sonnes so evill heare? speedy way:

Or who shall not great Nightes children


When two of three her nephews are so Where griesly Night, with visage deadly fowle forlorne ? That Phæbus chearefull face durst never


•Up, then! up, dreary dame, of darknes And in a foule blacke pitchy mantle clad,

queene! Sbe findes forth comming from her dark Go gather up the reliques of thy race, some mew,

Or else goe them avenge, and let be seene Where she all day did hide her hated hew. That dreaded Night in brightest day hath Before the dore her yron charet stood,

place, Already harnessed for journey new; And can the children of fayre Light deAnd coleblacke steedes yborne of hellish brood,

Her feeling speaches some compassion That on their rusty bits did champ, as they mov'd were wood.

In hart, and chaunge in that great mothers

face: XXI

Yet pitty in her hart was never prov'd Who when she saw Duessa sunny bright, Till then: for evermore she hated, never Adornd with gold and jewels shining cleare,

lov'd: She greatly grew amazed at the sight, And th' unacquainted light began to feare;

XXV For never did such brightnes there appeare; And said, “Deare daughter, rightly may I And would have backe retyred to her cave,

rew Untill the witches speach she gan to heare, The fall of famous children borne of mee, Saying: Yet, 0 thou dreaded dame, I And good successes, which their foes encrave

sew: Abyde, till I have told the message which But who can turne the streame of destinee, I have.'

Or breake the chayne of strong necessitee,

Which fast is tyde to Joves eternall seat ? XXII

The sonnes of Day he favoureth, I see, She stayd, and foorth Duessa gan proceede: | And by my ruines thinkes to make them O thou most auncient grandmother of all,

great: More old then Jove, whom thou at first To make one great by others losse is bad didst breede,

excheat. Or that great house of gods cælestiall,

XXVI Which wast begot in Dæmogorgons hall, And sawst the secrets of the world unmade, Yet shall they not escape so freely all; Why suffredst thou thy nephewes deare to For some shall pay the price of others guilt: fall

| And he, the man that made Sansfoy to fall,


But what the spilcowne blood

Shall with his owne blood price that he

hath spilt. But what art thou, that telst of nephews

kilt ?

1, that do seeme not I, Duessa ame,' Quoth she, how ever now, in garments

gilt And gorgeous gold arayd, I to thee came; Duessa Î, the daughter of Deceipt and


And handle softly, till they can be heald: So lay him in her charett, close in night conceald.

xXx And all the while she stood upon the ground, The wakefull dogs did never cease to bay, As giving warning of th' unwonted sound, With which her yron wheeles did them

affray, And her darke griesly looke them much

dismay: The messenger of death, the ghastly owle, With drery shriekes did also her bewray; And hungry wolves continually did howle At her abhorred face, so filthy and so fowle.


XXVII Then bowing downe her aged backe, she

kist The wicked witch, saying: “In that fayre

face The false resemblaunce of Deceipt, I wist, Did closely lurke; yet so true-seeming grace It carried, that I scarse in darksome place Could it discerne, though I the mother bee Of Falshood, and roote of Duessaes race. O welcome, child, whom I have longd to

see, And now have seene unwares! Lo, now I

goe with thee.'

XXVIII Then to her yron wagon she betakes, And with her beares the fowle welfavourd

witch: Through mirkesome aire her ready way

she makes. Her twyfold teme, of which two blacke as

pitch, And two were browne, yet each to each

unlich, Did softly swim away, ne ever stamp, Unlesse she chaunst their stubborne mouths

to twitch; Then foming tarre, their bridles they would

champ, And trampling the fine element, would fiercely ramp.

XXIX So well they sped, that they be come at

length Unto the place, whereas the Paynim lay, Devoid of outward sence and native strength, Coverd with charmed cloud from vew of day And sight of men, since his late luckelesse

fray. His cruell wounds, with cruddy bloud con

geald, They binden up so wisely as they may,

Thence turning backe in silence softe they

stole, And brought the heavy corse with easy pace To yawning gulfe of deepe Avernus hole. By that same hole an entraunce, darke and

bace, With smoake and sulphur hiding all the

place, Descends to hell: there creature never past, That backe retourned without heavenly

grace; But dreadfull Furies, which their chaines

have brast, And damned sprights sent forth to make ill men aghast.

XXXII By that same way the direfull dames doe

drive Their mournefull charett, fild with rusty

blood, And downe to Plutoes house are come

bilive: Which passing through, on every side them

stood The trembling ghosts with sad amazed

mood, Chattring their iron teeth, and staring wide With stony eies; and all the bellish brood Of feends infernall flockt on every side, To gaze on erthly wight, that with the

Night durst ride.

XXXIII They pas the bitter waves of Acheron, Where many soules sit wailing woefully, And come to fiery flood of Phlegeton,

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