And him beside rides fierce reuenging _Wrath_, xxxiii Vpon a Lion, loth for to be led; And in his hand a burning brond he hath, The which he brandisheth about his hed; His eyes did hurle forth sparkles fiery red, And stared sterne on all, that him beheld, As ashes pale of hew and seeming ded; And on his dagger still his hand he held, Trembling through hasty rage, when choler in him sweld. His ruffin raiment all was staind with blood, xxxiv Which he had spilt, and all to rags yrent, Through vnaduized rashnesse woxen wood; For of his hands he had no gouernement, Ne car’d for bloud in his auengement: But when the furious fit was ouerpast, His cruell facts he often would repent; Yet wilfull man he neuer would forecast, How many mischieues should ensue his heedlesse hast. Full many mischiefes follow cruell _Wrath_; xxxv Abhorred bloudshed, and tumultuous strife, Vnmanly murder, and vnthrifty scath, Bitter despight, with rancours rusty knife, And fretting griefe the enemy of life; All these, and many euils moe haunt ire, The swelling Splene, and Frenzy raging rife, The shaking Palsey, and Saint _Fraunces_ fire: Such one was _Wrath_, the last of this vngodly tire. And after all, vpon the wagon beame xxxvi Rode _Sathan_[156], with a smarting whip in hand, With which he forward lasht the laesie teme, So oft as _Slowth_ still in the mire did stand. Huge routs of people did about them band, Showting for ioy, and still before their way A foggy mist had couered all the land; And vnderneath their feet, all scattered lay Dead sculs and bones of men, whose life had gone astray. So forth they marchen in this goodly sort, xxxvii To take the solace of the open aire, And in fresh flowring fields themselues to sport; Emongst the rest rode that false Lady faire, The fowle _Duessa_, next vnto the chaire Of proud _Lucifera_[157], as one of the traine: But that good knight would not so nigh repaire, Him selfe estraunging from their ioyaunce vaine, Whose fellowship seemd far vnfit for warlike swaine. So hauing solaced themselues a space xxxviii With pleasaunce of the breathing fields yfed, They backe returned to the Princely Place; Whereas an errant knight in armes ycled, And heathnish shield, wherein with letters red Was writ _Sans ioy_, they new arriued find: Enflam’d with fury and fiers hardy-hed, He seemd in hart to harbour thoughts vnkind, And nourish bloudy vengeaunce in his bitter mind.