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