4 Still as he went, he craftie stales did lay

With cunning traynes him to entrap unwares,
And privie spials plast in all his way,

To weete what course he takes, and how he fares;
To ketch him at a vantage in his snares.

But now so wise and warie was the knight

By tryall of his former harmes and cares,

That he descride, and shonned still, his slight:

The fish, that once was caught, new bait will hardly bite.

5 Nath'lesse th' enchaunter would not spare his payne, In hope to win occasion to his will;

Which when he long awaited had in vaine,

He chaunged his mind from one to other ill:
For to all good he enimy was still.

Upon the way him fortuned to meet,

Faire marching underneath a shady hill,

A goodly knight, all armd in harnesse meete, That from his head no place appeared to his feete.

6 His carriage was full comely and upright;
His countenance demure and temperate;
But yet so sterne and terrible in sight,

That cheard his friendes, and did his foes amate:
He was an Elfin borne, of noble state
And mickle worship in his native land;
Well could he tourney, and in lists debate,
And knighthood tooke of good Sir Huons hand,
When with king Oberon he came to Faerie land.

7 Him als accompanyd upon the way

A comely palmer, clad in black attire, Of ripest yeares, and haires all hoarie gray, That with a staffe his feeble steps did stire, Least his long way his aged limbes should tire: And, if by lookes one may the mind aread, He seemed to be a sage and sober sire, And ever with slow pace the knight did lead, Who taught his trampling steed with equall steps to tread.

8 Such whenas Archimago them did view,

He weened well to worke some uncouth wile:
Eftsoones, untwisting his deceiptfull clew,

He gan to weave a web of wicked guile;
And with a faire countenance and flattring stile
To them approching, thus the knight bespake;
Fayre sonne of Mars, that seeke with warlike spoile,
And great atchiev'ments, great your self to make,
Vouchsafe to stay your steed for humble misers sake.

9 He stayd his steed for humble misers sake,
And bad tell on the tenor of his plaint;
Who feigning then in every limb to quake
Through inward feare, and seeming pale and faint,
With piteous moan his percing speach gan paint':
Deare lady how shall I declare thy cace,
Whom late I left in languorous constraynt?
Would God thyselfe now present were in place
To tell this ruefull tale; thy sight could win thee grace.

10 Or rather would, O would it so had chaunst,

That you, most noble Sir, had present beene
When that lewd ribauld, with vile lust advaunst,
Laid first his filthy hands on virgin cleene,
To spoyle her dainty corse, so faire and sheene,
As on the earth, great mother of us all,

With living eye more faire was never seene
Of chastitie and honour virginall:

Witnes ye heavens, whom she in vaine to help did call.

11 How may it be, (sayd then the knight halfe wroth,) That knight should knighthood ever so have shent? None but that saw, (quoth he,) would weene for troth, How shamefully that mayd he did torment:

Her looser golden lockes he rudely rent,

And drew her on the ground, and his sharpe sword
Against her snowy brest he fiercely bent,

And threatned death with many a bloudie word;
Toung hates to tell the rest, that eye to see abhord.

12 Therewith amoved from his sober mood,

And lives he yet, (said he,) that wrought this act,
And doen the heavens afford him vitall food?

He lives, (quoth he,) and boasteth of the fact,
Ne yet hath any knight his courage crackt.
Where may that treachour then, (said he,) be found,
Or by what meanes may I his footing tract?
That shall I shew, (said he,) as sure as hound
The stricken deare doth chalenge by the bleeding wound.

13 He staid not lenger talke, but with fierce ire And zealous hast away is quickly gone

To seeke that knight, where him that craftie squire Supposed to be. They do arrive anone

Where sate a gentle lady all alone,

With garments rent, and haire discheveled,
Wringing her hands, and making piteous mone;
Her swollen eyes were much disfigured,

And her faire face with teares was fowly blubbered.

14 The knight, approching nigh, thus to her said,
Faire lady, through fowle sorrow ill bedight,
Great pittie is to see you thus dismaid,
And marre the blossome of your beautie bright:
Forthy appease your griefe and heavie plight,
And tell the cause of your conceived payne.
For if he live, that hath you doen despight;
He shall you doe dew recompence againe,
Or else his wrong with greater puissance maintaine.

15 Which when she heard, as in despightfull wise
She wilfully her sorrow did augment,
And offred hope of comfort did despise:
Her golden lockes most cruelly she rent,
And scratcht her face with ghastly dreriment;
Ne would she speake, ne see, ne yet be seene,
But hid her visage, and her head downe bent,
Either for grievous shame, or for great teene,
As if her hart with sorrow had transfixed beene

16 Till her that squire bespake, Madame my liefe,
For Gods deare love be not so wilfull bent,
But doe vouchsafe now to receive reliefe,
The which good fortune doth to you present.
For what bootes it to weepe and to wayment,
When ill is chaunst, but doth the ill increase,
And the weake minde with double woe torment?
When she her squire heard speake, she gan appease
Her voluntarie paine, and feele some secret ease.

17 Eftsoone she said, Ah gentle trustie squire,
What comfort can I wofull wretch conceave,
Or why should ever I henceforth desire
To see faire heavens face, and life not leave,
Sith that false traytour did my honour reave?
False traytour certes, (saide the Faerie knight)
I read the man, that ever would deceave

A gentle ladie, or her wrong through might:
Death were too little paine for such a fowle despight.

18 But now, faire ladie, comfort to you make,

And read, who hath ye wrought this shamefull plight,
That short revenge the man may overtake,
Where so he be, and soone upon him light.
Certes, (said she,) I wote not how he hight,
.But under him a gray steede he did wield,
Whose sides with dapled circles weren dight;
Upright he rode, and in his silver shield

He bore a bloodie crosse, that quartred all the field.

19 Now by my head, (saide Guyon,) much I muse, How that same knight should doe so foule amis, Or ever gentle damzell so abuse:

For may I boldly say, he surely is

A right good knight, and trew of word ywis :

I present was, and can it witnesse well,

When armes he swore, and streight did enterpris
Th' adventure of the errant damozell;

In which he hath great glorie wonne, as I heare tel.

20 Nathlesse he shortly shall againe be tryde,
And fairely quite him of th' imputed blame,
Else be ye sure he dearely shall abyde,
Or make you good amendment for the same:
All wrongs have mends, but no amends of shame.
Now therefore ladie rise out of your paine,
And see the salving of your blotted name.
Full loth she seemd thereto, but yet did faine;
For she was inly glad her purpose so to gaine.

21 Her purpose was not such, as she did faine,
Ne yet her person such, as it was seene,
But under simple shew and semblant plaine,
Lurckt false Duessa secretly unseene,

As a chast virgin, that had wronged beene:
So had false Archimago her disguisd,

To cloke her guile with sorrow and sad teene;
And eke himselfe had craftily devisd

To be her squire, and do her service well aguisd.

22 Her late forlorne and naked he had found,
Where she did wander in waste wildernesse,
Lurking in rockes and caves farre under ground,
And with greene mosse cov'ring her nakednesse
To hide her shame and loathly filthinesse,
Sith her Prince Arthur of proud ornaments
And borrow'd beautie spoyld. Her nathelesse
Th' enchanter finding fit for his intents
Did thus revest, and deckt with due habiliments.

23 For all he did, was to deceive good knights,
And draw them from pursuit of praise and fame
To slug in slouth and sensuall delights,
And end their daies with irrenowmed shame.
And now exceeding griefe him overcame,
To see the Redcrosse thus advaunced hye;
Therefore this craftie engine he did frame,
Against his praise to stirre up enmitye
Of such, as vertues like mote unto him allye.