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Which when Malbecco saw, out of the bush Ne stayd he, till be came unto the place
Upon his handes and feete he crept full light, Where late his treasure he entombed had;
And like a gote emongst the gotes did rush; Where when he found it not, (for Trompart baco
That, through the helpe of his faire hornes on hight, Had it purloyned for his maister bad)
And misty dampe of misconceyving night, With extreme fury he became qnite mad,
And eke through likenesse of his gotish beard, And ran away, ran with himselfe away:
He did the better counterfeite aright:

That who so straungely had him seene bestadd,
So home he marcht emongst the horned heard, With upstart haire and staring eyes dismay,
That none of ail the Satyres him éspyde or heard. From Limbo lake him late escaped sure would say.
At night, when all they went to sleepe, he vewd, High over hilles and over dales he fledd,
Whereas his lovely wife emongst them lay, As if the wind bim on his winges had borne;
Embraced of a Satyre rough and rude,

Ne banck nor bush could stay him, when he spedd Who all the night did mind his ioyous play: His nimble feet, as treading still on thorne: Nine times he heard him come aloft ere day, Griefe, and Despight, and Gealosy, and Scorne, That all his bart with geaiosy did swell;

Did all the way him follow hard bebynd; But yet that nights ensample did bewray

And he himselfe himselfe loath'd so torlorne, That not for nought his wife them lovd so well, So shamefully forlorne of womankynd: When one so oft a night did ring his matins bell. That, as a snake, still lurked in his wounded mynd

So closely as he could he to them crept,

Still fed he forward, looking baćkward still; When wearie of their sport to sleepe they fell, Ne stayd his flight nor fearefull agony And to his wife, that now full soundly slept, Till that he came unto a rocky hill He whispered in her eare, and did her tell, Over the sea suspended dreadfully, That it was he which by her side did dwell; That living creature it would terrify And therefore prayd her wake to heare him plaine. To looke adowne, or upward to the bight: As one out of a dreame not waked well

From thence he threw himselfe dispiteously, She turnd her, and returned backe againe : All desperate of his fore-damned spright, Yet her for to awake he did the more constraine. That seemd no help for him was left in living sight.

At last with irkesom trouble she abrayd;

But, through long anguish and selfe-murd'ring And then perceiving, that it was indeed

He was so wasted and forpined quight, [thought, Her old Malbecco, which did her upbrayd

That all his substance was consum'd to nought, With loosenesse of her love and loathly deed, And nothing left but like an aery spright; She was astonisht with exceeding dreed,

That on the rockes he fell so flit and light, And would have wakt the Satyre by her syde; That he thereby receiv'd no hurt at all; But he her prayd, for mercy or for meed,

But chaunced on a craggy cliff to light; To save his life, ne let him be descryde,

Whence he with crooked clawes so long did crall, But hearken to his lore, and all his counsell hyde. That at the last he found a cave with entrance small:

Tho gan he her perswade to leave that lewd
And loathsom life, of God and man abhord,
And home returne, where all should be renewd
With perfect peace and bandes of fresh accord,
And she receivd againe to bed and bord,
As if no trespas ever had beene donne:
But she it all refused at one word,
And by no meanes would to his will be wonne,
But chose emongst the jolly Satyres still to wopne.

Into the same he creepes, and thenceforth there
Resolv'd to build his balefull mansion
In drery darkenes and continuall feare
Of that rocks fall, which ever and anon
Threates with huge ruine him to fall upon,
That he dare never sleepe, but that one eye

ope he keepes for that occasion;
Ne ever rests he in tranquillity,
The roring billowes beat his bowre so boystrously.

He wooed her till day-spring he espyde;

Ne erer is he wont on ought to feed
But all in vaine: and then turnd to the heard, But todes and frogs, his pasture poysonous,
Who butted him with hornes on every syde, Which in his cold complexion doe breed
And trode downe in the durt, where his hore beard A filthy blood, or liumour rancorous,
Was fowly dight, and he of death afeard.

Matter of doubt and dread suspitious,
Early, before the Heavens fajrest light

That doth with curelesse care consume the hart, Out of the ruddy east was fully reard,

Corrupts the stomacke with gall ritious, The heardes out of their foldes were loosed quight, Cross-cuts the liver with internall smart,

[dart. And he emongst the rest crept forth in sory plight. And doth transfixe the soule with deathes eternall

So soone as he the prison-dore did pas,

Yet can he never dye, but dying lives,
He ran as fast as both his feet could beare, And doth bimselfe with sorrow new sustaine,
And never looked who behind him was,

That death and life attonce unto him gives,
Ne scarsely who before: like as a beare,

And painefull pleasure turnes to pleasing paine. That creeping close amongst the hives to reare There dwels he ever, miserable swaine, An hony-combe, the wakefull dogs espy,

Hatefull both to himselfe and every wight; And him assayling sore his carkas teare,

Where he, through privy griefe and horrour paine, That hardly be with life away does fly,

Is.woxen so deform'd, that he has quight Ne stayes, till safe himselfe he see from ieopardy. Forgut he was a man, and Gelosy is highte

Fayre Britomart so long him followed,

That she at last came to a fountaine sheare, CANTO XI.

By which there lay a knight all wallowed

Upon the grassy ground, and by him neare
Britomart chaceth Ollyphant;

His haberieon, his helmet, and his speare :
Findes Seudamour distrest:

A little oíf, his shield was rudely throwne,
Assayes the house of Busyrane,

On which the winged boy in colours cleare
Where Loves spoyles are exprest.

Depeincted was, full easie to be knowne,

And he thereby, wherever it in field was showne. O HATEFULL hellish snake! what Furie furst His face upon the grownd did groveling ly, Brought thee from balefall house of Proserpine, As if he had beene slombring in the shade; Where in her bosome she thee long had nurst, That the brave mayd would not for courtesy And fostred up with bitter milke of tine;

Out of his quiet slomber him abrade, Fowle Gealosy! that turnest love divine

Nor seeme 100 suddein!y him to invade : To joylesse dread, and mak'st the loving hart Still as she stood, she heard with grievous throb With hatefull thonghts to languish and to pine, Him grone, as if his hart were peeces made, And feed itselfe with selfe-consuming smart, And with most painefull pangs to sigh and sob, Of all the passions in the mind thou vilest art ! That pitty did the virgins hart of patience rob. O let him far be banished away,

At last forth breaking into bitter plaintes And in his stead let Love for ever dwell !

He sayd; “O soverayne Lord, that sit'st on hye Sweete Love, that doth his golden wings embay And raingst in blis emongst thy blessed Saintes, • In blessed pectar and pure Pleasures well, How suffrest thru such shamefull cruelty, Untroubled of vile feare or bitter fell.

So long unwreaked of thine enimy! And ye, faire ladies, that your kingdomes make Or hast thou, Lord, of good mens cause no heed? In th' harts of men, them governe wisely well, Or doth thy justice sleepe and silent ly? And of faire Britomart ensample take,

What booteth then the good and righteous deed, That was as trew in love as turtle to her make. If goodnesse find no grace, nor righteousnesse no

meed ! Who with sir Satyrane, as earst ye red, Forth ryding from Malbeccoes hostlesse hous, “ If good find grace, and righteousnes reward, Far off aspyde a young man, the which fed Why then is Amoret in caytive band, From an huge geaupt, that with hideous

Sith that more bounteous creature never far'd And hatefull outrage long him chaced thus ; On foot upon the face of living land? It was that Ollyphant, the brother deare

Or if that hevenly iustice may withstand Of that Argantè vile and vitions,

The wrongfull outrage of unrighteous men, From whom the Squyre of Dames was reft whylere; Why then is Busirane with wicked hand This all as bad as she, and worse, if worse ought Suffred, these seven monethes day, in secret den were.

My lady and my love so cruelly lo pen? For as the sister did in feminine

My lady and my love is cruelly pend And filthy lust exceede all womankinde ; In dolefull darkenes from the vew of day, So be surpassed his sex masculine,

Whilest deadly torments due her chast brest rend, In beastly use, all that I ever finde :

And the sharpe steele doth rive her hart in tway, Whom when as Britomart beheld behinde

All for she Scudamore will not denay. The fearefull boy so greedily poursew,

Yet thou, vile man, vile Scudamore, art sound, She was em moved in her noble minde

Ne canst her ayde, ne canst her foe dismay; T employ her puissaunce to his reskew,

Unworthy wretch to tread upon the ground, And pricked fiercely forward where she did him vew. For whom so faire a lady feeles so sore a wound.” Ne was sir Satyrane her far behinde,

There an huge heape of singulfes did oppresse But with like fiercenesse did ensew the chace : His strugling soule, and swelling throbs empeach Whom when the gyaunt saw, he soone resinde His foltring toung with pangs of drerinesse, His former suit, and from them fled apace: Choking the remnant of his plaintife speach, They after both, and boldly bad him bace, As if his dayes were come to their last reach. And each did strive the other to outgoe;

Which when she heard, and saw the ghastly fit But he them both outran a wondrous space, Threatning into his life to make a breach, For he was long, and swift as any roe,

Both with great ruth and terrour she was smit, And now made better speed t'escape his feared foe. Fearing least from her cagethewearie soulewould fit. It was not Satyrane, whom he did feare,

Tho, stouping downe, she him amoved light; Bat Britomart the flowre of chastity;

Who, therewith somewhat starting, up gan looke, For he the powre of chaste hands might not beare, And seeing him behind a stranger knight, Bat alwayes did their dread encounter fly: Whereas no living creature he mistooke, And now so fast his feet he did apply,

With great indignaunce be that sight forsooke, That be gas gotten to a forrest neare,

And, downe againe himselfe disdainefully Where he is shrowded in security.

Abiecting, th' earth with his faire forhead strooke: The wood they enter, and search everie where; Which the bold virgin seeing, gan apply They searched diversely; so both divided were. Fit medcine to his griefe, and spake thus courtesly:

Ah! gentle knight, whose deepe-conceived griefe, There they dismounting drew their weapons bold,
Well seemes t' exceede the powre of patience, And stoutly came unto the castle gate,
Yet, if that hevenly grace some good reliefe Whereas no gate they found them to withhold,
You send, submit you to high Providence; Nor ward to waite at morne and evening late;
And ever, in your noble hart, prepense,

But in the porch, that did them sore amate,
That all the sorrow in the world is lesse

A flaming fire ymixt with smouldry smoke Then vertues might and values confidence: And stinking sulphure, that with griesly hate For who nill bide the burden of distresse, (nesse. And dreadfull horror did all ențraunce choke, Must not here thinke to live; for life is wretched - Enforced them their forward footing to revoke. “ Therefore, faire sir, doe comfort to you take, Greatly thereat was Britomart dismayd, And freely read what wicked felon so

Ne in that stownd wist how herselfe to beare; Hath outrag'd you, and thrald your gentle make. For daunger vaine it were to have assayd Perhaps this hand may help to ease your woe, That cruell element, which all things feare, And wreake your sorrow on your cruell foe; Ne none can suffer to approachen neare: At least it faire endevour will apply.”

And, turning backe to Scudamour, thus sayd; Those feeling words so neare the quicke did goe, “ What monstrous enmity provoke we heare That up his head he reared easily ;

Foolhardy as th’ Earthes children, the which made And, leaning on bis elbowe, these few words lett fy: Batteill against the gods, so we a god invade. “ What boots it plaine that cannot be redrest, Daunger without discretion to attempt, And sow vaine sorrow in a fruitlesse eare;

Inglorious, beast-like, is: therefore, sir Knight, Sith powre of hand, nor skill of learned brest, Aread what course of you is safest dempt, Ne worldly price, cannot redeeme my deare And how we with our foe may come to fight." Out of her thraldome and continuall feare!

This is,” quoth he,“ the dolorous despight, For he, the tyrant, which her hath in ward Which earst to you I playnd : for neither may By strong enchauntments and blacke magicke leare, This fire be quencht by any witt or might, Hath in a dungeon deepe her close embard, Ne yet by any meanes remov'd away; And many dreadfull feends hath pointed to her gard. So mighty be th' enchauntients which the same

do stay.

“ There he tormenteth her most terribly,
And day and night afflicts with mortall paine, “What is there ells but cease these fruitlesse paines,
Because to yield him love she doth deny, And leave me to my former languishing !
Once to me yold, not to be yolde againe :

Faire Amorett must dwell in wicked chaines,
But yet by torture he would her constraine And Scudamore here die with sorrowing!"
Love to conceive in her disdainfull brest;

“Perdy not so,” saide shee; “ for shameful thing Till so she doe, she must in doole remaine,

Yt were t'abandon noble chevisaunce, Ne may by living meanes be thence relest: For shewe of perill, without venturing : What boots it then to plaine that cannot be redrest!" Rather, let try extremities of chaunce

Then enterprised praise for dread to disavaunce." With this sad hersall of his heavy stresse The warlike damzell was empassiond sore, Therewith, resolv'd to prove her utmost might, And sayd; “Sir Knight, your cause is nothing lesse Her ample shield she threw before her face, Then is your sorrow certes, if not more;

And her swords point directing forward right For nothing so much pitty doth implore

Assayld the flame; the which eftesoones gave place, As gentle ladyes helplesse misery :

And did itselfe divide with equall space, But yet, if please ye listen to my lore,

That through she passed; as a thonder-bolt I will, with proofe of last extremity,

Perceth the yielding ayre, and doth displace Deliver her fro thence, or with her for you dy." The soring clouds into sad showres ymolt;

So to her yold the flames, and did their force revolt. “ Ah! gentlest knight alive," sayd Scudamore, “ What huge heroicke magnanimity [more, Whom whenas Scudamour saw past the fire Dwells in thy bounteous brest? what couldst thou Safe and untoucht, he likewise gan assay If shee were thine, and thou as now am I? With greedy will and envious desire, O spare thy happy daies, and them apply And bad the stubborne tlames to yield him way : To better boot, but let me die that ought; But cruell Mulciber would not obay More is more losse ; one is enough to dy!" His threatfull pride, but did the more augment “ Life is not lost,” said she, “ for which is bought His mighty rage, and with imperious sway Endlesse renowm; that, more then death, is to be Him forst, maulgre his ferceness, to relent, sought.”

And backe retire all scorcht and pitifully brent.
Thus she at length persuaded him to rise, With huge impatience he inly swelt,
And with her wend to see what new successe More for great sorrow that he could not pas
Mote him befall upon new enterprise :

Then for the burning torment which he felt;
His armes, which he had vowed to disprofesse, That with fell woodnes he effierced was,
She gathered up and did about him dresse, And wilfully him throwing on the gras
And his forwandred steed unto him gott:

Did beat and bounse his head and brest full sore :
So forth they both yfere make their progrésse, The whiles the championesse now entred has
And march, not past the mountenaunce of a shott, The utmost rowme, and past the foremost dore ;
Till they arrived whereas their purpose they did plott. The utmost rowme abounding with all precious store:

For, round about, the walls yclothed were

In Satyres shape Antiopa he snatcht; With goodly arras of great maiesty,

And like a fire, when he Aegin' assayd: Woven with gold and silke so close and nere A shepeheard, when Mnemosyne he catcht; That the rich metall lurked privily,

And like a serpent to the Thracian mayd. [playd, As faining to be bidd from envious eye;

Whyles thus on Earth great love these pageaunts Yet here, and there, and every where, unwares The winged boy did thrust into his throne, It shewd itseife and shone unwillingly;

And, scoffing, thus unto his mother sayd; Like to a discolourd snake, whose hidden snares “ Lo! now the Hevens obey to me alone, [gone." Through the greene gras his long bright burnisht And take me for their love, whiles love to Earth is back declares.

And thou, faire Phæbus, in thy colours bright And in those tapets weren fashioned

Wast there enwoven, and the sad distresse Many faire pourtraicts, and many a faire feate;

In which that boy thee plonged, for despight And all of love, and ai of lusty-hed,

That thou bewray'dst his mothers wantonnesse, As seemed by their sernblaunt, did entreat:

When she with Mars was meynt in ioyfulnesse: And eke all Cupids warres they did repeate,

Forthy he thrild thee with a leaden dart And cruell battailes, which he whilome fought

To love fair Daphne, which thee loved lesse; Gainst all the gods to make his empire great;

Lesse she thee lov'd than was thy just desart, Besides the huge massacres, which he wrought

Yet was thy love her death, and her death was thy

smart. On mighty kings and kesars into thraldome brought.

So lovedst thou the lasty Hyacinct; Therein was writt how often thondring love

So lovedst thou the faire Coronis deare: Had felt the point of his hart-percing dart,

Yet both are of thy haplesse hand extinct; And, leaving Heavens kingdome, here did rove

Yet both in flowres doe live, and love thee beare, In straunge disguize, to sake his scalding smart; Now, like a ram, faire Helle to pervart,

The one a paunce, the other a sweete-loreare:

For griefe whereof, ye mote have lively seene
Now, like a bull, Europa to withdraw:
Ah, how the fearefall ladies tender hart

The god himselfe rending his golden heare,

And breaking quite his garlond ever greene,
Did lively seeme to tremble, when she saw
The huge seas under her tobay her servaunts law!

With other signes of sorrow and impatient teene.

Both for those two, and for his owne deare sonne, Soone after that, into a golden showre

The sonne of Climene, he did repent;
Himselfe he chaung'd, faire Danaë to vew; Who, bold to guide the charet of the Sunne,
And through the roofe of her strong brasen towre Himselfe in thousand peeces fondly rent,
Did raine into her lap an hony dew;

And all the world with flashing fiër brent;
The wbiles her foolish garde, that litle knew So like, that all the walles cid seerne to flame.
Of such deceipt, kept th’yron dore fast bard, Yet cruell Cupid, not herewith content,
And watcht that none should enter nor issew; Forst him eftsoones to follow other game,
Vaine vas the watch, and bootlesse all the ward,

And love a shepheards daughter for his de arest dame. Whenas the god to golden hew himselfe transfard.

He loved Isse for his dearest dame, Then was he turnd into a snowy swan,

And for her sake her cattell fedd awhile, To win faire Leda to his lovely trade:

And for her sake a cowheard vile became: O wondrous skill, and sweet wit of the man, The servant of Admetus, cowheard vile, That her in daffadillies sleeping made

Whiles that from Heaven he suffered exile Prom scorching heat her daintie limbes to shade!

Long were to tell his other lovely fitt; Whiles the proud bird, ruffing his fethers wyde Now, like a iyon hunting after spoile; And brusbing his faire brest, did her invade,

Now, like a hag; now, like a faulcou flit: She slept; yet (wixt her eielids closely spyde All which in that faire arras was most lively writ. How towards her he rusht, and smiled at his pryde.

Next unto him was Neptune pictured, Then shewd it how the Thebane Semelee,

In his divine resemblaunce wondrous lyke : Deceird of gealous (uno, did require

His face was rugged, and his hoarie hed To see him in his soverayne ma’estee

Dropped with brackish deaw; bis threeforkt pyke Armd with his thunderbolts and lightning fire, He stearnly shooke, and therewith fierce did stryke Whens dearely she with death bought her desire. The raging billowes, that on every syde But faire Alcmena better match did make,

They trembling stood, and made a long broad dyke, loying his love in likenes more entire:

That his swift charet might have passage wyde Three nights in one they say that for her sake

Which foure great bippodames did draw in temeHe then did put, her pleasures leuger to partake.

wise tyde. Twice was be seene in soaring eagles shape, His seahorses did seeme to snort amayne, And with wide winges to beat the buxome ayre:

And from their nosethrilles blow the brynie streame, Once, when he with Asterie did scape;

That made the sparckling waves to smoke agayne Againe, whenas the Trojane boy so fayre

And flame with gold; but the white fomy creame He snatcht from Ida hill, and with him bare: Did shine with silver, and shoot forth his beame: Wondrous delight it was there to behould

The god himselfe did pensive seeme and sad, How the rude shepheards after him did stare, And hong adowne his head as he did dreame; Trembling through feare least down he fallen should, For privy love his brest empierced had, And often to him calling to take surer hould. Ne ought but deare Bisaltis ay could make him glad. He loved eke Iphimedia deare,

And underneath his feet was written thus, And Aeolus faire daughter, Arnè hight,

Unto the victor of the gods this bee : For whom he turnd himselfe into a steare,

And all the people in that ample hous And fedd on fodder to beguile her sight.

Did to that image bowe their humble knee, Also, to win Deucalions daughter bright,

And oft committed fowle idolatree. He turnd himselfe into a dolphin fayre ;

That wondrous sight faire Britomart amazd, And, like a winged horse, he tooke his flight Ne seeing could her wonder satisfie, To snaky-locke Medu a to repayre, [ayre. But ever more and more upon it gazd, [dazd. On whom he got faire Pegasus that flitteth in the The whiles the passing brightnes her fraile sences Next Saturne was, (but who would ever weene

Tho, as she backward cast her busie eye That sullein Saturne ever weend to love?

To search each secrete of that goodly sted, Yet love is sullein, and Satúrnlike scene,

Over the dore thus written she did spye, As he did for Erigone it prove,)

Bee bold : she oft and oft it over-red, That to a centaure did himselfe transmove.

Yet could not find what sence it figured : So proov'd it eke that gratious god of wine,

But whatso were therein or writ or ment, When, for to compasse Philliras hard love,

She was no whit thereby discouraged He turnd himselfe into a fruitfull vine,

Prom prosecuting of hier first intent, [went. And into her faire bosome made his grapes decline. But forward with bold steps into the next roome

Much fayrer then the former was that roome, Long were to tell the amorous assayes,

And richlier, by many partes, arayd;
And geutle pangues, with which he maked meeke
The mightie Mars, to learne his wanton playes;

For not with arras made in painefull loome,
How oft for Venus, and how often eek

But with pure gold it all was overlayd, (playd

Wrought with wilde antickes which their follies For many other nymphes, he sore did shreek;

In the rich metall, as they living were: With womanish teares, and with unwarlike smarts,

A thousand monstrous formes therein were made, Privily moystening his horrid cheeke:

Such as false Love doth oft upon him weare; There was be painted full of burning dartes, And many wide woundes launched through his For Love in thousand monstrous formes doth oft apinner partes.


And, all about, the glistring walles were hong Ne did he spare (so cruell was the Elfe)

With warlike spoiles and with victorious prayes His owne deare mother, (ah! why should he so ?)

Of mightie conquerours and captaines strong, Ne did he spare sometime to pricke himselfe,

Which were whilóme captived in their dayes That he might taste the sweet consuming woe,

To cruell Love, and wrought their owne decayes: Which he had wrought to many others moe.

Their swerds and speres were broke, and hauberques But, to declare the mournfull tragedyes

rent, And spoiles wherewith he all the ground did strow, and their proud girlonds of tryumphant bayes More eath to number with how many eyes Troden in dust with fury insolent, High Heven beholdes sad lovers nigKtly theeveryes. To shew the victors might and merciless intent. Kings, queenes, lords, ladies, knights, and damsels The warlike mayd, bcholding carnestly Were heap'd together with the vulgar sort, [gent, The goodly ordinaunce of this rich place, And mingled with the raskall rablement,

Did greatly wonder; ne could satisfy Without respect of person or of port,

Her greedy eyes with gazing a long space:To shew Dan Cupids powre and great effort: But more she mervaild that no footings trace And round about a border was entrayld

Nor wight appeard, but wastefull emptiness Of broken bowes and arrowes shivered short;

And solemne silence over all that place: And a long bloody river through them rayld,

Straunge thing it seem'd, that none was to possesse So lively, and so like, that living sence it fayld.

So rich purveyaunce, ne them keepe with carefulAnd at the upper end of that faire rowme There was an altar built of pretious stone

And, as she lookt about, she did behold Of passing valew and of great renowme,

Ilow over that same dore was likewise writ, On which there stood an image all alone

Be bolde, Be boule, and every where, Be bold; Of massy gold, which with his owne light shone ; That much she muz'd, yet could not construe it And winges it had with sondry colours dight, By any ridling skill or commune wit. More sondry colours then the proud pavone At last she spyde at that rowmes upper end Beares in his boasted fan, or Iris bright,

Another yron dore, on which was writ, When her discolourd bow she spreds through Heven Be not too bold; whereto though she did bend (tend. bright.

Her earnest minde, yet wist not what it might in. Blyndfold he was; and in his cruell fist

Thus she there wayted untill eventyde, A mortall bow and arrowes keene did hold, Yet living creature none she saw appeare. With which be shot at randon when him list, And now sad shadowes gan the world to hyde Some headed with sad lead, some with pure gold; From mortall vew, and wrap in darkenes dreare; (Ah! man, beware how thou those dartes behold!) Yet nould she d'off her weary armes, for feare À wounded dragon under him did ly,

Of secret daunger, ne let sleepe oppresse Whose hideous tayle his lefte foot did enfold, Her heavy eyes with natures burdein dearc, And with a shaft was shot through either eye, But drew herselfe aside in sickernesse, That no man forth might draw, ne no man remedye and her welpointed wepons did about her dresse.


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