It was my chance (my chance was faire and good) xlvii There for to find a fresh vnproued knight, Whose manly hands[262] imbrew’d in guiltie blood Had neuer bene, ne euer by his might Had throwne to ground the vnregarded right: Yet of his prowesse proofe he since hath made (I witnesse am) in many a cruell fight; The groning ghosts of many one dismaide Haue felt the bitter dint of his auenging blade. And ye the forlorne reliques of his powre, xlviii His byting sword, and his deuouring speare, Which haue endured many a dreadfull stowre, Can speake his prowesse, that did earst you beare, And well could rule: now he hath left you heare, To be the record of his ruefull losse, And of my dolefull disauenturous deare: O heauie record of the good _Redcrosse_, Where haue you[263] left your Lord, that could so well you tosse? Well hoped I, and faire beginnings had, xlix That he my captiue langour[264] should redeeme, Till all vnweeting, an Enchaunter bad His sence abusd, and made him to misdeeme My loyalty, not such as it did seeme; That rather death desire, then such despight. Be iudge ye heauens, that all things right esteeme, How I him lou’d, and loue with all my might, So thought I eke of him, and thinke I thought aright. Thenceforth me desolate he quite forsooke, l To wander, where wilde fortune would me lead, And other bywaies he himselfe betooke, Where neuer foot of liuing wight did tread, That brought not backe the balefull body dead; In which him chaunced false _Duessa_ meete, Mine onely foe, mine onely deadly dread, Who with her witchcraft and misseeming sweete, Inueigled him to follow her desires vnmeete. At last by subtill sleights she him betraid li Vnto his foe, a Gyant huge and tall, Who him disarmed, dissolute, dismaid, Vnwares surprised, and with mightie mall The monster mercilesse him made to fall, Whose fall did neuer foe before behold; And now in darkesome dungeon, wretched thrall, Remedilesse, for aie he doth him hold; This is my cause of griefe, more great, then may be told. Ere she had ended all, she gan to faint: lii But he her comforted and faire bespake, Certes, Madame, ye haue great cause of plaint, That stoutest heart, I weene, could cause to quake. But be of cheare, and comfort to you take: For till I haue acquit your captiue knight, Assure your selfe, I will you not forsake. His chearefull words reuiu’d her chearelesse spright, So forth they went, the Dwarfe them guiding euer right. FOOTNOTES: [230] i 6 frame; _1590_, _1596_ [231] ii 4 pray; _1590 &c._ [232] v 5 her] he _1596_