Who, thereat wondrous wroth, the sleeping spark
Of native courage doth at once revive;
And, at his haughty helmet making mark,
So fiercely struck, that it the steel did rive,
And cleft the head: he, tumbling down alive,
With bloody mouth his mother earth did kiss,
Greeting his grave: his grudging ghost did strive
With the frail flesh: at last it flitted is,

Whither the souls do fly of men that live amiss.

The lady, when she saw her champion fall,
Like the old ruins of a broken tower,
Stayed not to wail his woeful funeral,
But from him fled away with all her power;
The victor knight did after her fast scour,
Bidding the dwarf with him to bring away
The Pagan's shield, sign of the conqueror;
Her soon he overtook, and bade to stay;
For present cause of dread was none her to dismay.

She, turning back, with rueful countenance,
Cried, Mercy, mercy, sir, vouchsafe to shew

On silly dame, subject to hard mischance,
And to your mighty will.' She humbly low,
In so rich weeds and seeming glorious show,
Did much enmove his stout heroic heart.
He said, 'Dear dame, your sudden overthrow
Much grieveth me; but now put fear apart,
'And tell, both who ye be, and who that took your part.'

Then thus, in tears, began she to lament;
'The wretched woman, whom unhappy hour
'Hath now made thrall to your commandeinent,
'Before the angry heavens chose to lower,

And fortune false betrayed me to your power,
'Was-O what now availeth that I was!
'Born the sole daughter of an emperor;
'He that the wide west under his rule has,

And high hath set his throne where Tiber's stream doth pass.' 'He, in the first flower of my freshest age, 'Betrothed me unto the only heir "Of a most mighty king, most rich and sage; 'Was never prince so faithful and so fair! 'Was never prince so meek and debonaire !

6

But, ere my hoped day of spousals shone,

My dearest lord fell from high honour's stair 'Into the hands of his accursed fone, [foes] 'And cruelly was slain; that shall I ever moan.

B

"His blessed body, spoiled of living breath,
'Was afterward, I know not how, conveyed.
'And from me hid; of whose most innocent death,
'When tidings came to me, unhappy maid,
'O how great sorrow my sad soul dismayed!
'Then went I forth his woeful corse to find,
'And many years throughout the world I strayed,
A virgin widow; whose deep-wounded mind

'With love long time did languish, as the stricken hind.
'At last it chanced to this proud Paynim
'To meet me wandering; who perforce me led
'With him away; but yet could never win
'The fort, that ladies hold in sovereign dread.
6 There lies he now, with foul dishonour, dead,
'Who, whilst he lived, was called proud SANSFOY,
'The eldest of three brethren; all three bred
'Of one bad sire, whose youngest is SANSJOY;
'And twixt them both was born the bloody bold SANSLOY.'
'In this sad plight, friendless, unfortunate,

'Now miserable I FIDESSA dwell,

'Craving of you, in pity of my state,

To do no ill, if please ye not do well.'
He in great passion all this while did dwell;
More busy were his eyes her face to view,
Than his dull ears to hear what she did tell ;
He said, Fair lady, heart of flint would rue
'The undeserved woes and sorrows, which ye shew."

'Henceforth in safe assurance may ye rest,

Having both found a new friend you to aid,

'And lost an old foe that did you molest:
'Better new friend than old foe, it is said.'
With change of cheer, the seeming-simple maid
Let fall her eyes, as shamefaced, to the earth,
And yielded soft, in that she nought gainsaid.
So forth they rode, he feigning seemly mirth,
And she coy looks: so dainty, they say, maketh dearth.

Long time they thus together travelled;
Till, weary of their way, they came at last

Where grew two goodly trees, that fair did spread
Their arms abroad, with gray moss overcast;

And their green leaves, trembling with every blast,
Made a calm shadow far in compass round:
The fearful shepherd, often there aghast,
Under them never sat, nor would there sound

merry oaten pipe, but shunned the unlucky ground.

But this good knight, soon as he them did spy,
For the cool shade hastily thither got;
For golden Phoebus, being mounted high,
From fiery wheels of his fair chariot
Hurled his beams so cruel scorching hot,
That living creature could it not abide,

And his new lady it endured not.

There they alight, in hope themselves to hide

From the fierce heat, and rest their weary limbs a tide. [awhile]

Fair complaisance each to the other makes,

And good discourse maintain, there as they site;
And, in his foolish fancy, he her takes

To be the fairest form that lived yet;

Which to express he bends his gentle wit;

And, thinking of those branches green to frame
A garland for her dainty forehead fit,

He plucked a bough; out of whose reft there came
Small drops of gory blood, that trickled down the same.

Therewith a piteous yelling voice was heard,
Crying, 'O spare with guilty hands to tear
My tender sides, in this rough rind embarr'd;
But fly, ah, fly far hence away, for fear
'Lest to you hap what happened to me here,
And to this wretched lady, my dear love,

'O too dear love, love bought with death too dear!'
Aghast he stood, and up his hair did hove;
And, with that sudden horror, could no member move.
At last, when once the dreadful passion
Was overpast, and manhood well awake;
Yet musing at the strange occasion,

And doubting much his sense, he thus bespake;
What voice of damned ghost from Limbo lake,
'Or guileful sprite wandering in empty air,
'Both which frail men do oftentimes mistake,
'Sends to my doubtful ears these speeches rare
And rueful plaints, me bidding guiltless blood to spare?'
Then, groaning deep, 'Not damned ghost,' quoth he,
'Nor guileful sprite, to thee these words doth speak,
But once a man, FRADUBIO, now a tree;

'Wretched man! wretched tree! whose nature weak,
A cruel witch, her cursed will to wreak,
'Hath thus transformed, and placed in open plains,
'Where Boreas doth blow full bitter bleak,

And scorching sun does dry my secret veins;

'For though a tree I seem, yet cold or heat me pains.'

Say on, FRADUFIO, then, or man or tree,'

Quoth then the knight, by whose mischievous arts,
'Art thou misshaped thus, as now I see?
'He oft finds medicine who his grief imparts;
'But double griefs afflict concealing hearts,
'As raging flames who striveth to suppress.'
The author then,' said he, ' of all my smarts,

'Is one DUESSA, a false sorceress :

'She many Christian knights hath brought to wretchedness.'

'In prime of youthful years, when courage hot

The fire of love and joy of chivalry

First kindled in my breast, it was my lot

To love this gentle lady, whom ye see 'Now not a lady, but a seeming tree; 'With whom as once I rode accompanied, 'Encountered by a knight I chanced to be, Who had a like fair lady by his side; 'Like a fair lady, but did foul DUESSA hide:'

Whose forged beauty, he did take in hand, All other dames to have exceeded far; I, in defence of mine, did likewise stand, 'Mine that then did shine as the morning star. 'So both to battle fierce arranged are, 'In which his harder fortune was to fall 'Under my spear; such is the fate of war. 'His lady, left as a prize martial,

'Did yield her comely person to be at my call.

'So doubly loved of ladies unlike fair,
'One seeming such, the other such indeed,
'One day in doubt I tried to compare
'Which one in beauty's glory did exceed;
'A rosy garland was the victor's meed.

Both seemed to win, and both seemed won to be,
'So hard the discord was to be agreed.
'FRÆLISSA was as fair as fair might be,

'And ever false DUESSA seemed as fair as she.'

The wicked witch, now seeing all this while
The doubtful balance equally to sway,

'What not by right she tried to win by guile;
And, by her hellish science, raised straight way
A foggy mist that overcast the day,

And blast, that, breathing on FRELISSA's face,
Dimmed her former beauty's shining ray,
And with foul ugly form did her disgrace;

'Then was she fair alone, when none was fair in place."

Then cried she out, Fy, fy, deformed wight, "Whose borrowed beauty now appeareth plain,

To have before bewitched all men's sight; "O leave her soon, or let her soon be slain !' 'Her loathly visage viewing with disdain,

At once I thought her such as she me told, And would have killed her; but, with feigned pain, 'The false witch did my wrathful hand withhold; 'So left her, where she now is turned to tree in mould.'

'Thenceforth I took DUESSA for my dame,
'And in the witch unwitting joyed long time,
Nor ever wist but that she was the same;
'Till on a day, that day is every prime,
'When witches must do penance for their crime,
'I chanced to see her in her proper hue,
Bathing herself in marjoram and thyme :
A filthy foul old woman I did view,

'That ever to have touched her I did deadly rue.'

'Her nether parts misshapen monstrous
'Were hid in water, that I could not see,
But they did seem more foul and hideous
'Than woman's shape man would believe to be.
Thenceforth from her most beastly company

" I did refrain, in mind to slip away,

'Soon as appeared safe opportunity:

For danger great, if not assured decay,

'I saw before mine eyes, if I were known to stray.'

"The devilish hag, by changes of my cheer,

'Perceived my thought; and, drowned in sleepy night, 'With wicked herbs and ointments did besmear 'My body, all through charms and magic might, 'That all my senses were bereaved quite : 'Then brought she me into this desert waste,

And by my wretched lover's side me pight; [placed] 'Where now, enclosed in wooden walls full fast, 'Banished from living men, our weary days are past.'

'But how long time,' said then the REDCROSS knight, 'Are you in this misformed house to dwell?' 'We may not change,' quoth he, this evil plight, 'Till we be bathed in a living well:

That is the term prescribed by the spell.'

O now,' said he, may I that well out find, 'That would restore you to your wonted well?' 'Time, and sufficed fates, to former kind,

'Shall us restore; none else from hence may us unbind.'