But neither darkenesse fowle, nor filthy bands, xl Nor noyous smell his purpose could withhold, (Entire affection hateth nicer hands) But that with constant zeale, and courage bold, After long paines and labours manifold, He found the meanes that Prisoner vp to reare; Whose feeble thighes, vnhable to vphold His pined corse, him scarse to light could beare, A ruefull spectacle of death and ghastly drere. His sad dull eyes deepe sunck in hollow pits, xli Could not endure th’vnwonted sunne to view; His bare thin cheekes for want of better bits, And empty sides deceiued of their dew, Could make a stony hart his hap to rew; His rawbone armes, whose mighty brawned bowrs Were wont to riue steele plates, and[289] helmets hew, Were cleane consum’d, and all his vitall powres Decayd, and all his flesh shronk vp like withered flowres. Whom when his Lady saw, to him she ran xlii With hasty ioy: to see him made her glad, And sad to view his visage pale and wan, Who earst in flowres of freshest youth was clad. Tho when her well of teares she wasted had, She said, Ah dearest Lord, what euill starre On you hath fround, and pourd his influence bad, That of your selfe ye thus berobbed arre, And this misseeming hew your manly looks doth marre? But welcome now my Lord, in wele or woe, xliii Whose presence I haue lackt too long a day; And fie[290] on Fortune mine auowed foe, Whose wrathfull wreakes them selues do now alay. And for these wrongs shall treble penaunce pay Of treble good: good growes of euils priefe. The chearelesse man, whom sorrow did dismay, Had no delight to treaten of his griefe; His long endured famine needed more reliefe. Faire Lady, then said that victorious knight, xliv The things, that grieuous were to do, or beare, Them to renew, I wote, breeds no delight; Best musicke breeds †delight[291] in loathing eare: But th’onely good, that growes of passed feare, Is to be wise, and ware of like agein. This dayes ensample hath this lesson deare Deepe written in my heart with yron pen, That blisse may not abide in state of mortall men. Henceforth sir knight, take to you wonted strength, xlv And maister these mishaps with patient might; Loe where your foe lyes stretcht in monstrous length, And loe that wicked woman in your sight, The roote of all your care, and wretched plight, Now in your powre, to let her liue, or dye. To do her dye (quoth _Vna_) were despight, And shame t’auenge so weake an enimy; But spoile her of her scarlot robe, and let her fly.