XXXII
He hated all good workes and vertuous deeds, 280 And him no lesse, that any like did use, And who with gracious bread the hungry feeds, His almes for want of faith he doth accuse; So every good to bad he doth abuse: And eke the verse of famous Poets witt 285 He does backebite, and spightfull poison spues From leprous mouth on all that ever writt: Such one vile Envie was, that fifte in row did sitt.
XXXIII
And him beside rides fierce revenging Wrath, Upon a Lion, loth for to be led; 290 And in his hand a burning brond he hath, The which he brandisheth about his hed; His eyes did hurle forth sparkles fiery red, And stared sterne on all that him beheld, As ashes pale of hew and seeming ded; 295 And on his dagger still his hand he held, Trembling through hasty rage, when choler in him sweld.
XXXIV
His ruffin raiment all was staind with blood, Which he had spilt, and all to rags yrent, Through unadvized rashnesse woxen wood; 300 For of his hands he had no governement, Ne car'd for bloud in his avengement: But when the furious fit was overpast, His cruell facts he often would repent; Yet wilfull man he never would forecast, 305 How many mischieves should ensue his heedlesse hast.
XXXV
Full many mischiefes follow cruell Wrath; Abhorred bloodshed and tumultuous strife, Unmanly murder, and unthrifty scath,° Bitter despight, with rancours rusty knife, 310 And fretting griefe the enemy of life; All these, and many evils moe haunt ire, The swelling Splene,° and Frenzy raging rife, The shaking Palsey, and Saint Fraunces fire:° Such one was Wrath, the last of this ungodly tire. 315
XXXVI
And after all, upon the wagon beame Rode Sathan, with a smarting whip in hand, With which he forward lasht the laesie teme, So oft as Slowth still in the mire did stand. Hugh routs of people did about them band, 320 Showting for joy, and still before their way A foggy mist had covered all the land; And underneath their feet, all scattered lay Dead sculs and bones of men, whose life had gone astray.
XXXVII
So forth they marchen in this goodly sort, 325 To take the solace of the open aire, And in fresh flowring fields themselves to sport; Emongst the rest rode that false Lady faire, The foule Duessa, next unto the chaire Of proud Lucifera, as one of the traine: 330 But that good knight would not so nigh repaire, Him selfe estraunging from their joyaunce vaine, Whose fellowship seemd far unfit for warlike swaine.
XXXVIII
So having solaced themselves a space With pleasaunce° of the breathing fields yfed, 335 They backe retourned to the Princely Place; Whereas an errant knight in armes ycled, And heathnish shield, wherein with letters red Was writ _Sans joy_, they new arrived find: Enflam'd with fury and fiers hardy-hed 340 He seemd in hart to harbour thoughts unkind, And nourish bloudy vengeaunce in his bitter mind.
XXXIX
Who when the shamed shield of slaine Sansfoy He spide with that same Faery champions page, Bewraying him, that did of late destroy 345 His eldest brother, burning all with rage He to him leapt, and that same envious gage Of victors glory from him snatcht away: But th' Elfin knight, which ought that warlike wage Disdaind to loose the meed he wonne in fray, 350 And him rencountring fierce, reskewd the noble pray.
XL
Therewith they gan to hurtlen greedily, Redoubted battaile ready to darrayne, And clash their shields, and shake their swords on hy, That with their sturre they troubled all the traine; 355 Till that great Queene upon eternall paine Of high displeasure that ensewen might, Commaunded them their fury to refraine, And if that either to that shield had right, In equall lists they should the morrow next it fight. 360
XLI
Ah dearest Dame, (quoth then the Paynim bold,) Pardon the error of enraged wight, Whom great griefe made forget the raines to hold Of reasons rule, to see this recreant knight, No knight, but treachour full of false despight 365 And shamefull treason, who through guile hath slayn The prowest knight that ever field did fight, Even stout Sansfoy (O who can then refrayn?) Whose shield he beares renverst, the more to heape disdayn.
XLII
And to augment the glorie of his guile, 370 His dearest love, the faire Fidessa, loe Is there possessed of the traytour vile, Who reapes the harvest sowen by his foe, Sowen in bloudy field, and bought with woe: That brothers hand shall dearely well requight, 375 So be, O Queene, you equall favour showe. Him litle answerd th' angry Elfin knight; He never meant with words, but swords to plead his right.
XLIII
But threw his gauntlet as a sacred pledge, His cause in combat the next day to try: 380 So been they parted both, with harts on edge To be aveng'd each on his enimy. That night they pas in joy and jollity, Feasting and courting both in bowre and hall; For Steward was excessive Gluttonie, 385 That of his plenty poured forth to all; Which doen, the Chamberlain Slowth did to rest them call.
XLIV
Now whenas darkesome night had all displayed Her coleblacke curtein over brightest skye, The warlike youthes on dayntie couches layd, 390 Did chace away sweet sleepe from sluggish eye, To muse on meanes of hoped victory. But whenas Morpheus had with leaden mace Arrested all that courtly company, Up-rose Duessa from her resting place, 395 And to the Paynims lodging comes with silent pace.
XLV
Whom broad awake she finds, in troublous fit, Forecasting, how his foe he might annoy, And him amoves with speaches seeming fit: Ah deare Sansjoy, next dearest to Sansfoy, 400 Cause of my new griefe, cause of my new joy, Joyous, to see his ymage in mine eye, And greev'd, to thinke how foe did him destroy, That was the flowre of grace and chevalrye; Lo his Fidessa to thy secret faith I flye. 405
XLVI
With gentle wordes he can her fairely greet, And bad say on the secret of her hart. Then sighing soft, I learne that litle sweet Oft tempred is (quoth she) with muchell smart: For since my brest was launcht with lovely dart 410 Of deare Sans foy, I never joyed howre, But in eternall woes my weaker hart Have wasted, loving him with all my powre, And for his sake have felt full many an heavie stowre.
XLVII
At last when perils all I weened past, 415 And hop'd to reape the crop of all my care, Into new woes unweeting I was cast, By this false faytor, who unworthy ware His worthy shield, whom he with guilefull snare Entrapped slew, and brought to shamefull grave. 420 Me silly maid away with him he bare, And ever since hath kept in darksome cave, For that I would not yeeld, that to Sans foy I gave.
XLVIII
But since faire Sunne hath sperst that lowring clowd, And to my loathed life now shewes some light, 425 Under your beames I will me safely shrowd, From dreaded storme of his disdainfull spight: To you th' inheritance belongs by right Of brothers prayse, to you eke longs his love. Let not his love, let not his restlesse spright, 430 Be unreveng'd, that calles to you above From wandring Stygian shores, where it doth endlesse move.
XLIX
Thereto said he, Faire Dame, be nought dismaid For sorrowes past; their griefe is with them gone: Ne yet of present perill be affraid; 435 For needlesse feare did never vantage none And helplesse hap° it booteth not to mone. Dead is Sansfoy, his vitall paines are past, Though greeved ghost for vengeance deepe do grone: He lives, that shall him pay his dewties last,° 440 And guiltie Elfin blood shall sacrifice in hast.
L
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 do fight alike, to win or yield? 445 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 whit reck, ne you the like need to reherce. 450