And all dissention, which doth dayly grow
Amongst fraile men, that many a publike[12] state
And many a priuate oft doth ouerthrow.
Her false Duessa who full well did know,
To be most fit to trouble noble knights,
Which hunt for honor, raised from below,
Out of the dwellings of the damned sprights,
Where she in darknes wastes her cursed daies and nights.
Hard by the gates of hell her dwelling is, xx
There whereas all the plagues and harmes abound,