XXVI
In this sad plight, friendlesse, unfortunate, Now miserable I Fidessa dwell, Craving of you in pitty of my state, To do none ill, if please ye not do well. He in great passion all this while did dwell, 230 More busying his quicke eyes, her face to view, Then his dull eares, to heare what she 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, 235 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 cheare the seeming simple maid Let fall her eyen, as shamefast to the earth, 240 And yeelding soft, in that she nought gain-said, So forth they rode, he feining seemely merth, And she coy lookes: so dainty they say maketh derth.°
XXVIII
Long time they thus together traveiled, Till weary of their way, they came at last 245 Where grew two goodly trees, that faire did spred Their armes abroad, with gray mosse overcast, And their greene leaves trembling with every blast, Made a calme shadow far in compasse round: The fearfull Shepheard often there aghast 250 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 cool shade° him thither hastly got: For golden Phoebus now ymounted hie, 255 From fiery wheeles of his faire chariot Hurled his beame so scorching cruell hot, That living creature mote it not abide; And his new Lady it endured not. There they alight, in hope themselves to hide 260 From the fierce heat, and rest their weary limbs a tide.
XXX
Faire seemely pleasaunce° each to other makes, With goodly purposes° there as they sit: And in his falsed fancy he her takes To be the fairest wight that lived yit; 265 Which to expresse he bends his gentle wit, And thinking of those braunches greene to frame A girlond for her dainty forehead fit, He pluckt a bough;° out of whose rift there came Small drops of gory bloud, that trickled down the same. 270
XXXI
Therewith a piteous yelling voyce 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, 275 And to this wretched Lady, my deare love, O too deare love, love bought with death too deare. Astond he stood, and up his haire did hove, And with that suddein horror could no member move.
XXXII
At last whenas the dreadfull passion 280 Was overpast, and manhood well awake, Yet musing at the straunge occasion, And doubting much his sence, he thus bespake; What voyce of damned Ghost from Limbo lake,° Or guilefull spright wandring in empty aire, 285 Both which fraile men do oftentimes mistake, Sends to my doubtfull eares these speaches rare, And ruefull plaints, me bidding guiltlesse bloud to spare?
XXXIII
Then groning deepe, Nor damned Ghost, (quoth he,) Nor guileful sprite to thee these wordes doth speake, 290 But once a man Fradubio,° now a tree, Wretched man, wretched tree; whose nature weake A cruell witch her cursed will to wreake, Hath thus transformd, and plast in open plaines, Where Boreas doth blow full bitter bleake, 295 And scorching Sunne does dry my secret vaines: For though a tree I seeme, yet cold and heat me paines.
XXXIV
Say on Fradubio then, or man, or tree, Quoth then the knight, by whose mischievous arts Art thou misshaped thus, as now I see? 300 He oft finds med'cine, 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, 305 That many errant knights hath brought to wretchednesse.
XXXV
In prime of youthly yeares, when corage hot The fire of love and joy of chevalree First kindled in my brest, it was my lot To love this gentle Lady, whom ye see, 310 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. 315
XXXVI
Whose forged beauty he did take in hand, All other Dames to have 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, 320 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, 325 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, 330 So hard the discord was to be agreede. Fraelissa 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, 335 What not by right, she cast to win by guile, And by her hellish science raisd streightway A foggy mist, that overcast the day, And a dull blast, that breathing on her face, Dimmed her former beauties shining ray, 340 And with foule ugly forme did her disgrace: Then was she faire alone, when none was faire in place.°
XXXIX
Then cride she out, Fye, fye, deformed wight, Whose borrowed beautie now appeareth plaine To have before bewitched all mens sight; 345 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 The false witch did my wrathfull hand with-hold; 350 So left her, where she now is turnd to treen mould.°
XL
Then forth 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 every Prime, 355 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 ever to have toucht her I did deadly rew. 360
XLI
Her neather parts 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 365 I gan refraine, in minde to slip away, Soone as appeard safe opportunitie: For danger great, if not assur'd decay, I saw before mine eyes, if I were knowne to stray.
XLII
The divelish hag by chaunges of my cheare° 370 Perceiv'd my thought, and drownd in sleepie night,° With wicked herbs and ointments did besmeare My body all, through charms and magicke might, That all my senses were bereaved quight: Then brought she me into this desert waste, 375 And by my wretched lovers side me pight, Where now enclosd in wooden wals full faste, Banisht from living wights, our wearie dayes we waste.
XLIII
But how long time, said then the Elfin knight, Are you in this misformed house to dwell? 380 We may not chaunge (quoth he) this evil plight, Till we be bathed in a living well;° That is the terme prescribed by the spell. O how, said he, mote I that well out find, That may restore you to your wonted well? 385 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 390 Full of sad feare and ghastly dreriment, When all this speech the living tree had spent, The bleeding bough did thrust into the ground, That from the bloud he might be innocent, And with fresh clay did close the wooden wound: 395 Then turning to his Lady, dead with feare her found.