34

Say on Fradubio then, or man, or tree,
Quoth then the knight, by whose mischieuous

arts

Art thou misshaped thus, as now I see?
He oft finds med'cine, who his griefe imparts;
But double griefs afflict concealing harts,
As raging flames who striueth to suppresse.
The author then (said he) of all my smarts,
Is one Duessa a false sorceresse,

That many errant knights hath brought to wretchednesse.

35

In prime of youthly yeares, when corage hot
The fire of loue and ioy of cheualree
First kindled in my brest, it was my lot
To loue this gentle Lady, whom ye see,
Now not a Lady, but a seeming tree;
With whom as once I rode accompanyde,
Me chaunced of a knight encountred bee,
That had a like faire Lady by his syde,
Like a faire Lady, but did fowle Duessa hyde.
36

Whose forged beauty he did take in hand,
All other Dames to haue exceeded farre ;
I in defence of mine did likewise stand,
Mine, that did then shine as the Morning starre:
So both to battell fierce arraunged arre,
In which his harder fortune was to fall
Vnder 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. 37

So doubly lou'd of Ladies vnlike 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
bee,

So hard the discord was to be agreede.
Fralissa was as faire, as faire mote bee,
And euer false Duessa seemde as faire as shee.

38

The wicked witch now seeing all this while
The doubtfull ballaunce equally to sway,
What not by right, she cast to win by guile,
And by her hellish science raisd streight way
A foggy mist, that ouercast the day,
And a dull blast, that breathing on her face,
Dimmed her former beauties shining ray,
And with foule vgly forme did her disgrace :
Then was she faire alone, when none was faire
in place.

39

Then cride she out, Fye, fye, deformed wight,
Whose borrowed beautie now appeareth plaine
To haue before bewitched all mens sight;
O leaue 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 haue kild her; but with faigned
paine,
[hold;

40

The false witch did my wrathfull hand withSo left her, where she now is turnd to treen mould. Thens forth I tooke Duessa for my Dame, And in the witch vnweeting ioyd long time, Ne euer wist, but that she was the same, Till on a day (that day is euery Prime, When Witches wont do penance for their crime) I chaunst to see her in her proper hew, Bathing her selfe in origane and thyme : A filthy foule old woman I did vew, That euer to haue toucht her, I did deadly rew.

3
Yet she most faithfull Ladie all this while
Forsaken, wofull, solitarie mayd

Farre from all peoples prease, as in exile,
In wildernesse and wastfull deserts strayd,
To seeke her knight; who subtilly betrayd
Through that late vision, which th’Enchaunter
wrought,

Had her abandond. She of nought affrayd, Through woods and wastnesse wide him daily sought;

Yet wished tydings none of him vnto her brought.

4

One day nigh wearie of the yrkesome way,
From her vnhastie beast she did alight,
And on the grasse her daintie limbes did lay
In secret shadow, farre from all mens sight:
From her faire head her fillet she vndight,
And laid her stole aside. Her angels face
As the great eye of heauen shyned bright,
And made a sunshine in the shadie place;
Did neuer mortall eye behold such heauenly
grace.

5

It fortuned out of the thickest wood
A ramping Lyon rushed suddainly,
Hunting full greedie after saluage blood;
Soone as the royall virgin he did spy,
With gaping mouth at her ran greedily,
To haue attonce deuour'd her tender corse:
But to the pray when as he drew more ny,
His bloudie rage asswaged with remorse,
And with the sight amazd, forgat his furious
forse.
6

In stead thereof he kist her wearie feet,
And lickt her lilly hands with fawning tong,
As he her wronged innocence did weet.
O how can beautie maister the most strong,
And simple truth subdue auenging wrong
Whose yeelded pride and proud submission,
Still dreading death, when she had marked long,
Her hart gan melt in great compassion,
And drizling teares did shed for pure affection.

7

The Lyon Lord of euerie beast in field,
Quoth she, his princely puissance doth abate,
And mightie proud to humble weake does yield,
Forgetfull of the hungry rage, which late
Him prickt, in pittie of my sad estate:
But he my Lyon, and my noble Lord,
How does he find in cruell hart to hate
Her that him lou'd, and euer most adord,
As the God of my life? why hath he me abhord?

34

Say on Fradubio then, or man, or tree,
Quoth then the knight, by whose mischieuous

arts

Art thou misshaped thus, as now I see?
He oft finds med'cine, who his griefe imparts;
But double griefs afflict concealing harts,
As raging flames who striueth to suppresse.
The author then (said he) of all my smarts,
Is one Duessa a false sorceresse,

That many errant knights hath brought to wretchednesse.

35

In prime of youthly yeares, when corage hot
The fire of loue and ioy of cheualree
First kindled in my brest, it was my lot
To loue this gentle Lady, whom ye see,
Now not a Lady, but a seeming tree;
With whom as once I rode accompanyde,
Me chaunced of a knight encountred bee,
That had a like faire Lady by his syde,
Like a faire Lady, but did fowle Duessa hyde.
36

Whose forged beauty he did take in hand,
All other Dames to haue exceeded farre ;
I in defence of mine did likewise stand,
Mine, that did then shine as the Morning starre:
So both to battell fierce arraunged arre,
In which his harder fortune was to fall
Vnder 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.

39

Then cride she out, Fye, fye, deformed wight,
Whose borrowed beautie now appeareth plaine
To haue before bewitched all mens sight;
O leaue 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 haue kild her; but with faigned
paine,
[hold;

40

The false witch did my wrathfull hand withSo left her, where she now is turnd to treen mould. Thens forth I tooke Duessa for my Dame, And in the witch vnweeting ioyd long time, Ne euer wist, but that she was the same, Till on a day (that day is euery Prime, When Witches wont do penance for their crime) I chaunst to see her in her proper hew, Bathing her selfe in origane and thyme : A filthy foule old woman I did vew, That euer to haue toucht her, I did deadly rew.

Redounding teares did choke th'end of her plaint,
Which softly ecchoed from the neighbour wood;
And sad to see her sorrowfull constraint
The kingly beast vpon her gazing stood;
With pittie calmd, downe fell his angry mood.
At last in close hart shutting vp her paine,
Arose the virgin borne of heauenly brood, ·
And to her snowy Palfrey got againe,
To seeke her strayed Champion, if she might
attaine.

The Lyon would not leaue her desolate,

But with her went along, as a strong gard
Of her chast person, and a faithfull mate
Of her sad troubles and misfortunes hard:
Still when she slept, he kept both watch and
ward,

And when she wakt, he waited diligent,

With humble seruice to her will prepard : From her faire eyes he tooke commaundement, And euer by her lookes conceiued her intent.

wore,

And thrise three times did fast from any bit : But now for feare her beads she did forget. Whose needlesse dread for to remoue away, Fairena framed words and count'nance fit: Which hardly doen, at length she gan them pray,

That in their cotage small, that night she rest her may. 15

The day is spent, and commeth drowsie night, When euery creature shrowded is in sleepe ; Sad Vna downe her laies in wearie plight, And at her feet the Lyon watch doth keepe: In stead of rest, she does lament, and weepe For the late losse of her deare loued knight, And sighes, and grones, and euermore does steepe

16

Her tender brest in bitter teares all night, All night she thinks too long, and often lookes for light. Now when Aldeboran was mounted hie Aboue the shynie Cassiopeias chaire, And all in deadly sleepe did drowned lie, One knocked at the dore, and in would fare; He knocked fast, and often curst, and sware, That readie entrance was not at his call: For on his backe a heauy load he bare Of nightly stelths and pillage seuerall, Which he had got abroad by purchase criminall.