Lo thus they rode, till at the last they spide
Two armed knights that toward them did pace,
And ech of them had ryding by his side
A ladie, seeming in so farre a space;
But ladies none they were, albee in face

And outward shew faire semblance they did beare;
For under maske of beautie and good grace
Vile treason and fowle falshood hidden were,
That mote to none but to the warie wise appeare.

The one of them the false Duessa hight,
That now had chang'd her former wonted hew;
For she could d'on so manie shapes in sight,
As ever could cameleon colours new ;
So could she forge all colours, save the trew:
The other no whit better was then shee,
But that, such as she was, she plaine did shew;
Yet otherwise much worse, if worse might bee,
And dayly more offensive unto each degree:

Her name was Atè, mother of debate
And all dissention which doth dayly grow
Amongst fraile men, that many a publike state
And many a private oft doth overthrow.
Her false Duessa, who full well did know
To be most fit to trouble noble knights
Which hunt for honor, raised from below
Out of the dwellings of the damned sprights,
Where she in darknes wastes her cursed daies and
nights.

Hard by the gates of Hell her dwelling is;
There, whereas all the plagues and harmes abound
Which punish wicked men that walke amisse:
It is a darksome delve farre under ground,
With thornes and barren brakes environd round,
That none the same may easily out win;
Yet many waies to enter may be found,
But none to issue forth when one is in:
For discord harder is to end then to begin.

And all within, the riven walls were hung
With ragged monuments of times forepast,
All which the sad effects of discord sung:
There were rent robes and broken scepters plast;
Altars defyld, and holy things defast;
Disshivered speares, and shields ytorne in twaine;
Great cities ransackt, and strong castles rast;
Nations captíved, and huge armies slaine:
Of all which ruines there some relicks did remaine.

There was the signe of antique Babylon;
Of fatall Thebes; of Rome that raigned long;
Of sacred Salem; and sad Ilion,
For memorie of which on high there hong
The golden apple, cause of all their wrong,
For which the three faire goddesses did strive:
There also was the name of Nimrod strong;
Of Alexander, and his princes five

[alive: Which shar'd to them the spoiles that he had got

And there the relicks of the drunken fray,
The which amongst the Lapithees befell;
And of the bloodie feast, which sent away
So many Centaures drunken soules to Hell,
That under great Alcides furie fell:

And of the dreadfull discord, which did drive
The noble Argonauts to outrage fell,
That each of life sought others to deprive,

And eke of private persons many moe,
That were too long a worke to count them all;
Some, of sworne friends that did their faith forgoe;
Some, of borne brethren prov'd unnaturall;
Some, of deare lovers foes perpetuall;
Witnesse their broken bandes there to be seene,
Their girlonds rent, their bowres despoyled all;
The moniments whereof there byding beene,
As plaine as at the first when they were fresh and
greene.

Such was her house within; but all without,
The barren ground was full of wicked weedes,
Which she herselfe had sowen all about,
Now growen great, at first of little seedes,
The seedes of evill wordes and factious deedes;
Which, when to ripenesse due they growen arre,
Bring forth an infinite increase that breedes
Tumultuous trouble, and contentious iarre,

The which most often end in bloudshed and in warre,

And those same cursed seedes doe also serve
To her for bread, and yeeld her living food:
For life it is to her, when others sterve
Through mischievous debate and deadly feood,
That she may sucke their life and drinke their blood,
With which she from her childhood had bene fed;
For she at first was borne of hellish brood,
And by infernall furies nourished;

That by her monstrous shape might easily be red.
Her face most fowle and filthy was to see,
With squinted eyes contrárie wayes intended,
And loathly mouth, unmeete a mouth to bee,
That nought but gall and venim comprehended,
And wicked wordes that God and man offended:
Her lying tongue was in two parts divided,
And both the parts did speake, and both contended;
And as her tongue so was her hart discided,
That never thoght one thing, but doubly stil was
guided.

Als as she double spake, so heard she double,
With matchlesse eares deformed and distort,
Fild with false rumors and seditious trouble,
Bred in assemblies of the vulgar sort,

That still are led with every light report:
And as her eares, so eke her feet were odde,
And much unlike; th' one long, the other short,
And both misplast; that, when th' one forward yode,
The other backe retired and contrárie trode.

Likewise unequall were her handës twaine;
That one did reach, the other pusht away;
That one did make, the other mard againe,
And sought to bring all things unto decay;
Whereby great riches, gathered manie a day,
She in short space did often bring to nought,
And their possessours often did dismay:
For all her studie was and all her thought
How she might overthrow the things that Concord
wrought.

So much her malice did her might surpas,
That even th' Almightie selfe she did maligne,
Because to man so mercifull he was,
And unto all his creatures so benigne,

Sith she herselfe was of his grace indigne:

For all this worlds faire workmanship she tride
Unto his last confusion to bring,

strive.

With which it blessed Concord hath together tide.

He little answer'd, but in manly heart
His mightie indignation did forbeare;
Which was not yet so secret, but some part
Thereof did in his frouning face appeare:
Like as a gloomie cloud, the which doth beare
An hideous storme, is by the northerne blast
Quite overblowne, yet doth not passe so cleare
But that it all the skie doth overcast [wast.
With darknes dred, and threatens all the world to

"Ah! gentle knight," then false Duessa sayd,
"Why do ye strive for ladies love so sore,
Whose chiefe desire is love and friendly aid
Mongst gentle knights to nourish evermore?
Ne be ye wroth, sir Scudamour, therefore,
That she your love list love another knight,
Ne do yourselfe dislike a whit the more;
For love is free, and led with selfe-delight,
Ne will enforced be with maisterdome or might."

So false Duessa: but vile Atè thus ; "Both foolish knights, I can but laugh at both, That strive and storme with stirre outrageous For her, that each of you alike doth loth, And loves another, with whom now she go'th In lovely wise, and sleepes, and sports, and playes; Whilest both you here with many a cursed oth Sweare she is yours, and stirre up bloudie frayes, Towin a willow bough, whilest other weares the bayes. "Vile hag," sayd Scudamour, "why dost thou lye, And falsly seekst a virtuous wight to shame?" "Fond knight," sayd she," the thing that with this eye

I saw, why should I doubt to tell the same?" "Then tell," quoth Blandamour, "and feare no

blame;

Tell what thou saw'st, maulgre whoso it heares."
"Isaw,"quoth she, "a straunger knight, whose name
I wote not well, but in his shield he beares
(That well I wote) the heads of many broken speares;

" I saw him have your Amoret at will;
I saw him kisse; I saw him her embrace;
I saw him sleepe with her all night his fill;
All, manie nights; and manie by in place
That present were to testifie the case."
Which whenas Scudamour did heare, his heart
Was thrild with inward griefe: as when in chace
The Parthian strikes a stag with shivering dart,
The beast astonisht stands in middest of his smart;

So stood sir Scudamour when this he heard,
Ne word he had to speake for great dismay,
But lookt on Glaucè grim, who woxe afeard
Of outrage for the words which she heard say,
Albee untrue she wist them by assay.
But Blandamour, whenas he did espie
His chaunge of cheere that anguish did bewray,
He woxe full blithe, as he had got thereby,
And gan thereat to triumph without victorie.
"Lo! recreant," sayd he, "the fruitlesse end
Of thy vaine boast, and spoile of love misgotten,
Whereby the name of knight-hood thou dost shend,
And all true lovers with dishonor blotten:
All things not rooted well will soone be rotten."
"Fy, fy, false knight," then false Duessa cryde,
Unworthy life, that love with guile hast gotten;
Be thou, whereever thou do go or ryde,
Loathed of ladies all, and of all knights defyde!"

But Scudamour, for passing great despight,
Staid not to answer; scarcely did refraine
But that in all those knights and ladies sight
He for revenge had guiltlesse Glaucè slaine:
But, being past, he thus began amaine;
"False traitour squire, false squire of falsest knight,
Who doth mine hand from thine avenge abstaine,
Whose lord hath done my love this foule despight,
Why do I not it wreake on thee now in my might?

"Discourteous, disloyall Britomart,
Untrue to God, and unto man uniust!
What vengeance due can equall thy desart,
That hast with shamefull spot of sinfull lust
Defil'd the pledge committed to thy trust!
Let ugly shame and endlesse infamy
Colour thy name with foule reproaches rust!
Yet thou, false squire, his fault shall deare aby,
And with thy punishment his penance shalt supply."

The aged dame him seeing so enraged
Was dead with feare; nathlesse as neede required
His flaming furie sought to have assuaged
With sober words, that sufferance desired
Till time the tryall of her truth expyred;
And evermore sought Britomart to cleare:
But he the more with furious rage was fyred,
And thrise his hand to kill her did uprcare,
And thrise he drew it backe: so did at last forbeare.

CANTO II.

Blandamour winnes false Florimell;
Paridell for her strives:
They are accorded: Agapè

Doth lengthen her sonnes lives.

FIREBRAND of Hell first tynd in Phlegeton
By thousand furies, and from thence outthrowen
Into this world to worke confusion

And set it all on fire by force unknowen,

Is wicked Discord; whose small sparkes once blowen
None but a god or godlike man can slake:
Such as was Orpheus, that, when strife was growen
Amongst those famous ympes of Greece, did take
His silver harpe in hand and shortly friends them
make:

Or such as that celestial psalmist was,
That, when the wicked feend his lord tormented,
With heavenly notes, that did all other pas,
The outrage of his furious fit relented.
Such musicke is wise words with time concented,
To moderate stiffe mindes disposd to strive:
Such as that prudent Romane well invented;
What time his people into partes did rive, [drive,
Them reconcyld againe, and to their homes did

Such us'd wise Glaucè to that wrathfull knight,
To calme the tempest of his troubled thought:
Yet Blandamour, with termes of foule despight,
And Paridell her scornd, and set at nought,
As old and crooked and not good for ought.
Both they unwise, and warelesse of the evill
That by themselves unto themselves is wrought,
Through that false witch, and that foule aged drevill
The one a feend, the other an incarnate devill,

With whom as they thus rode accompanide,
They were encountred of a lustie knight
That had a goodly ladie by his side,

To whom he made great dalliance and delight:
It was to weet the bold sir Ferraugh hight,
He that from Braggadochio whilome reft
The snowy Florimell, whose beautie bright
Made him seeme happie for so glorious theft;
Yet was it in due triall but a wandring weft.

Which whenas Blandamour, whose fancie light
Was alwaies flitting as the wavering wind
After each beautie that appeard in sight,
Beheld; eftsoones it prickt his wanton mind
With sting of lust that reasons eye did blind,
That to sir Paridell these words he sent ;
"Sir Knight, why ride ye dumpish thus behind,
Since so good fortune doth to you present

So fayre a spoyle, to make you ioyous meriment?"

But Paridell, that had too late a tryall
Of the bad issue of his counsell vaine,
List not to hearke, but made this fayre denyall;
"Last turne was mine, well proved to my paine;
This now be yours; God send you better gaine !"
Whose scoffed words he taking halfe in scorne,
Fiercely forth prickt his steed as in disdaine
Against that knight, ere he him well could torne ;
By meanes whereof he hath him lightly overborne.

Who, with the sudden stroke astonisht sore,
Upon the ground awhile in slomber lay;
The whiles his love away the other bore,
And, shewing her, did Paridell upbray;
"Lo! sluggish knight, the victors happie pray!
So fortune friends the bold." Whom Paridell
Seeing so faire indeede, as he did say,
His hart with secret envie gan to swell,

And inly grudge at him that he had sped so well.

Nathlesse proud man himselfe the other deemed,
Having so peerlesse paragon ygot:
For sure the fayrest Florimell him seemed
To him was fallen for his happie lot,
Whose like alive on Earth he weened not:
Therefore he her did court, did serve, did wooe,
With humblest suit that he imagine mot,
And all things did devise, and all things dooe, [too.
That might her love prepare, and liking win there-

She, in regard thereof, him recompenst
With golden words and goodly countenance,
And such fond favours sparingly dispenst:
Sometimes him blessing with a light eyeglance,
And coy lookes tempring with loose dalliance;
Sometimes estranging him in sterner wise;
That, having cast him in a foolish trance,
He seemed brought to bed in Paradise,

And prov'd himselfe most foole in what he seem'd most wise.

So great a mistresse of her art she was,
And perfectly practíz'd in womans craft,
That though therein himselfe he thought to pas,
And by his false allurements wylie draft
Had thousand women of their love beraft,
Yet now he was surpriz'd: for that false spright,
Which that same witch bad in this forme engraft,
Was so expert in every subtile slight,

That it could overreach the wisest earthly wight.

Yet he to her did dayly service more,
And dayly more deceived was thereby ;
Yet Paridell him envied therefore,
As seeming plast in sole felicity:
So blind is lust false colours to descry.
But Atè soone discovering his desire,
And finding now fit opportunity

To stirre up strife twixt love and spight and ire,
Did privily put coles unto his secret fire.

By sundry meanes thereto she prickt him forth;
Now with remembrance of those sprightfull speaches,
Now with opinion of his owne more worth,
Now with recounting of like former breaches
Made in their friendship, as that hag him teaches:
And ever, when his passion is allayd,
She it revives, and new occasion reaches:
That, on a time as they together way'd,
He made him open chalenge, and thus boldly sayd;

"Too boastfull Blandamour! too long I beare
The open wrongs thou doest me day by day;
Well know'st thou, when we friendship first did
The covenant was, that every spoyle or pray [sweare,
Should equally be shard betwixt us tway:
Where is my part then of this ladie bright,
Whom to thyselfe thou takest quite away?
Render therefore therein to me my right,
Or answere for thy wrong as shall fall out in fight."
Exceeding wrath thereat was Blandamour,
And gan this bitter answere to him make;
"Too foolish Paridell! that fayrest floure
Wouldst gather faine, and yet no paines wouldst
But not so easie will I her forsake;

[take:

This hand her wonne, this hand shall her defend.”
With that they gan their shivering speares to shake,
And deadly points at eithers breast to bend,
Forgetfull each to have bene ever others frend.

Their firie steedes with so untamed forse
Did beare them both to fell avenges end,
That both their speares with pitilesse remorse
Through shield and mayle and haberieon did wend,
And in their flesh a griesly passage rend,
That with the furie of their owne affret
Each other horse and man to ground did send ;
The perilous present stownd in which their lives
Where, lying still awhile, both did forget

were set.

As when two warlike brigandines at sea,
With murdrous weapons arm'd to cruell fight,
Do meete together on the watry lea,
They stemme ech other with so fell despight,
That with the shocke of their owne heedlesse might
Their wooden ribs are shaken nigh asonder;
They which from shore behold the dreadfull sight
Of flashing fire, and heare the ordnance thonder,
Do greatly stand amaz'd at such unwonted wonder.

At length they both upstarted in amaze,
As men awaked rashly out of dreme,
And round about themselves a while did gaze;
Till seeing her, that Florimell did seme,
In doubt to whom she victorie should deeme,
Therewith their dulled sprights they edgd anew,
And, drawing both their swords with rage extreme,
Like two mad mastiffes each on other flew,
And shields did share, and mailes did rash, and
helmes did hew.