cold
Perce to my hart, and pas through every side,
And let eternall night so sad sight fro me hide.
XXIII
O lightsome day, the lampe of highest Jove,
First made by him, mens wandring wayes to guyde, 195
When darkenesse he in deepest dongeon drove,
Henceforth thy hated face for ever hyde,
And shut up heavens windowes shyning wyde:
For earthly sight can nought but sorrow breed,
And late repentance, which shall long abyde. 200
Mine eyes no more on vanitie shall feed,
But seeled up with death,[*] shall have their deadly meed.
XXIV
Then downe againe she fell unto the ground;
But he her quickly reared up againe:
Thrise did she sinke adowne in deadly swownd 205
And thrise he her reviv'd with busie paine,
At last when life recover'd had the raine,
And over-wrestled his strong enemie,
With foltring tong, and trembling every vaine,
Tell on (quoth she) the wofull Tragedie, 210
The which these reliques sad present unto mine eie.
XXV
Tempestuous fortune hath spent all her spight,
And thrilling sorrow throwne his utmost dart;
Thy sad tongue cannot tell more heavy plight,
Then that I feele, and harbour in mine hart: 215
Who hath endur'd the whole, can beare each part.
If death it be, it is not the first wound,
That launched hath my brest with bleeding smart.
Begin, and end the bitter balefull stound;[*]
If lesse then that I feare,[*] more favour I have found. 220
XXVI
Then gan the Dwarfe the whole discourse declare,
The subtill traines of Archimago old;
The wanton loves of false Fidessa faire,
Bought with the blood of vanquisht Paynim bold;
The wretched payre transformed to treen mould; 225
The house of Pride, and perils round about;
The combat, which he with Sansjoy did hould;
The lucklesse conflict with the Gyant stout,
Wherein captiv'd, of life or death he stood in doubt.
XXVII
She heard with patience all unto the end, 230
And strove to maister sorrowfull assay,[*]
Which greater grew, the more she did contend,
And almost rent her tender hart in tway;
And love fresh coles unto her fire did lay:
For greater love, the greater is the losse. 235
Was never Lady[*] lo
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