XLVIII
But that false Pilgrim, which that leasing told,
Being in deed old Archimage, did stay
420
In secret shadow, all this to behold,
And much rejoiced in their bloudy fray:
But when he saw the Damsell passe away,
He left his stond, and her pursewd apace,
In hope to bring her to her last decay,[*]
425
But for to tell her lamentable cace,[*]
And eke this battels end, will need another place.
* * * *
*
The Redcrosse knight is captive
made
by Gyaunt proud opprest,
Prince Arthur meets with Una great-
ly with those newes distrest.
I
What man so wise, what earthly wit so ware,
As to discry the crafty cunning traine,
By which deceipt doth maske in visour
faire,
And cast her colours dyed deepe in graine,
To seeme like Truth, whose shape she well
can faine, 5
And fitting gestures to her purpose frame;
The guiltlesse man with guile to entertaine?
Great maistresse of her art was that false
Dame,
The false Duessa, cloked with Fidessaes name.
II
Who when returning from the drery Night,
10
She fownd not in that perilous house of
Pryde,
Where she had left, the noble Redcrosse
knight,
Her hoped pray; she would no lenger bide,
But forth she went, to seeke him far and
wide.
Ere long she fownd, whereas he wearie
sate 15
To rest him selfe, foreby a fountaine
side,
Disarmed all of yron-coted Plate,
And by his side his steed the grassy forage ate.
III
He feedes upon[*] the cooling shade, and bayes
His sweatie forehead in the breathing
wind, 20
Which through the trembling leaves full
gently playes,
Wherein the cherefull birds of sundry
kind
Do chaunt sweet musick, to delight his
mind:
The Witch approaching gan him fairely
greet,
And with reproch of carelesnesse unkind
25
Upbrayd, for leaving her in place unmeet,
With fowle words tempring faire, soure gall with hony
sweet.
IV
Unkindnesse past, they gan of solace treat,
And bathe in pleasaunce of the joyous
shade,
Which shielded them against the boyling
heat, 30
And with greene boughes decking a gloomy
glade,
About the fountaine like a girlond made;
Whose bubbling wave did ever freshly well,
Ne ever would through fervent sommer fade:
The sacred Nymph, which therein wont to
dwell, 35
Was out of Dianes favour, as it then befell.
V
