Therefore since mine he is, or free or bond, Or false or trew, or living or else dead, 245 Withhold, O soveraine Prince, your hasty hond From knitting league with him, I you aread; Ne weene my right with strength adowne to tread, Through weaknesse of my widowhed, or woe; For truth is strong her rightfull cause to plead, 250 And shall find friends, if need requireth soe. So bids thee well to fare, Thy neither friend, nor foe, _Fidessa_.
When he these bitter byting wordes had red, The tydings straunge did him abashed make, That still he sate long time astonished, 255 As in great muse, ne word to creature spake. At last his solemne silence thus he brake, With doubtfull eyes fast fixed on his guest; Redoubted knight, that for mine onely sake Thy life and honour late adventurest, 260 Let nought be hid from me, that ought to be exprest.
What meane these bloody vowes, and idle threats, Throwne out from womanish impatient mind? What heavens? what altars? what enraged heates Here heaped up with termes of love unkind, 265 My conscience cleare with guilty bands would bind? High God be witnesse, that I guiltlesse ame. But if your selfe, Sir knight, ye faultie find, Or wrapped be in loves of former Dame, With crime do not it cover, but disclose the same. 270
To whom the Redcrosse knight this answere sent My Lord, my King, be nought hereat dismayd, Till well ye wote by grave intendiment, What woman, and wherefere doth me upbrayd With breach of love, and loyalty betrayd. 275 It was in my mishaps, as hitherward I lately traveild, that unwares I strayd Out of my way, through perils straunge and hard; That day should faile me, ere I had them all declard.
There did I find, or rather I was found 280 Of this false woman, that Fidessa hight, Fidessa hight the falsest Dame on ground, Most false Duessa, royall richly dight, That easy was to invegle weaker sight: Who by her wicked arts, and wylie skill, 285 Too false and strong for earthly skill or might, Unwares me wrought unto her wicked will, And to my foe betrayd, when least I feared ill.
Then stepped forth the goodly royall Mayd, And on the ground her selfe prostrating low, 290 With sober countenaunce thus to him sayd; O pardon me, my soveraigne Lord, to show The secret treasons, which of late I know To have bene wroght by that false sorceresse. She onely she it is, that earst did throw 295 This gentle knight into so great distresse, That death him did awaite in dayly wretchednesse.