Cant. VIII.
the Faery Queene.
117
And for these wronges shall treble penaunce payOf treble good: good growes of euils priefe.The chearelesse man, whom sorow did dismay,Had no delight to treaten of his griefe;His long endured famine needed more reliefe.
Faire Lady, then said that victorious knight,The things, that grieuous were to doe, or beare,Them to renew, I wote, breeds no delight;Best musicke breeds delight in loathing eare:But th'only good, that growes of passed feare,Is to be wise, and ware of like agein.This daies ensample hath this lesson deareDeepe 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,And maister these mishaps with patient might;Loe wher your foe lies 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 die.To doe her die (qd. Vna) were despight,And shame t'auenge so weake an enimy;But spoile her of her scarlot robe, and let her fly.
So as she bad, that witch they disaraid,And robd of roiall robes, and purple pall,And ornaments that richly were displaid;Ne spared they to strip her naked all.Then when they had despoyld her tire and call,Such as she was, their eies might her behold,That her misshaped parts did them appall,A loathly, wrinckled hag; ill fauoured, old,Whose secret filth good manners biddeth not be told,
Her
