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The Faerie Queene, Book I, Canto 5
by [?]


And to him said, Goe now proud Miscreant,
Thy selfe thy message do to german deare; 110
Alone he wandring thee too long doth want:
Goe say, his foe thy shield with his doth beare.
Therewith his heavie hand he high gan reare,
Him to have slaine; when loe a darkesome clowd[*]
Upon him fell: he no where doth appeare, 115
But vanisht is. The Elfe him calls alowd,
But answer none receives: the darkness him does shrowd.


In haste Duessa from her place arose,
And to him running said, O prowest knight,
That ever Ladie to her love did chose, 120
Let now abate the terror of your might,
And quench the flame of furious despight,
And bloudie vengeance; lo th’ infernall powres,
Covering your foe with cloud of deadly night,
Have borne him hence to Plutoes balefull bowres. 125
The conquest yours, I yours, the shield, the glory yours.


Not all so satisfide, with greedie eye
He sought all round about, his thristie blade
To bath in bloud of faithlesse enemy;
Who all that while lay hid in secret shade: 130
He standes amazed, how he thence should fade.
At last the trumpets Triumph sound on hie,
And running Heralds humble homage made,
Greeting him goodly with new victorie,
And to him brought the shield, the cause of enmitie. 135


Wherewith he goeth to that soveraine Queene,
And falling her before on lowly knee,
To her makes present of his service seene:
Which she accepts, with thankes, and goodly gree,
Greatly advauncing his gay chevalree. 140
So marcheth home, and by her takes the knight,
Whom all the people follow with great glee,
Shouting, and clapping all their hands on hight,
That all the aire it fils, and flyes to heaven bright.


Home is he brought, and laid in sumptuous bed: 145
Where many skilfull leaches him abide,
To salve his hurts, that yet still freshly bled.
In wine and oyle they wash his woundes wide,
And softly can embalme on every side.
And all the while, most heavenly melody 150
About the bed sweet musicke did divide,
Him to beguile of griefe and agony:
And all the while Duessa wept full bitterly.


As when a wearie traveller that strayes
By muddy shore of broad seven-mouthed Nile, 155
Unweeting of the perillous wandring wayes,
Doth meete a cruell craftie Crocodile,
Which in false griefe hyding his harmefull guile,
Doth weepe full sore, and sheddeth tender teares:[*]
The foolish man, that pitties all this while 160
His mournefull plight, is swallowed up unawares,
Forgetfull of his owne, that mindes anothers cares.