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Yet sad he was, that his too hastie speed

The wyld woodgods, arrived in the place, The fayre Duess' had forst him leave behind; There find the virgin, doolfull, desolate, And yet more sad, that Una, his deare dreed, With ruffler rayments, and fayre blubbred face, Her truth had starnd with treason so unkind; As her outrageous foe had left her late; Yet cryme in her could never creature find: And trembling vet through feare of former hate: But for his love, and for her own selfe sake, All stand amazed at so uncouth sight, She wandred had from one to other Ynd,

And gin to pittie her unhappie state; Him for to seeke, ne ever would forsake;

All stand astonied at her beautie bright, Till her unwares the fiers Sansloy did overtake: In their rude eyes unworthy of so wofull plight. Who, after Archimagoes fowle defeat,

She, more amazd, in double dread doth dwell; Led her away into a forest wilde;

And every tender part for feare does shake. And, turning wrathfull fyre to lustfull heat, As when a greedy wolfe, through honger fell, With beastly sin thought her to have defilde, A seely lamb far from the flock does take, And made the vassall of his pleasures vilde.

Of whom he meanes his bloody feast to make, Yet first he cast by treatie, and by traynes,

A lyon spyes fast running towards him, Her to persuade that stubborne fort to yilde :

The innocent pray in hast he does forsake; For greater conquest of hard love he gaynes,

Which, quitt from death, yet quakes in every lim That workes it to his will, then he that it constraines. With chaunge of feare, to see the lyon looke so

grim. With fawning wordes he courted her a while; Such fearefull fitt assaid her trembling bart; And, looking lovely and oft sighing sore,

Ne word to speake, ne ioynt to move, she had : Her constant bart did tempt with diverse guile:

The salvage nation feele her secret smart, But wordes, and lookes, and sighes she did abhore; And read her sorrow in her countnance sad; As rock of diamon i stedfast evermore.

Their frowning forheads, with rough hornes yclad Yet, for to feed his fyrie lustfull eye,

And rustick horror, all asyde doe lay; He snatcht the vele that hong her face before:

And, gently grenning, shew a semblance glad Then gan her beautie shyne as brightest skye, To comfort ber; and, feare to put away, (obay. And burnt his beastly hart t'enforce her chastitye. Their backward-bent knees teach her bumbly to So when he saw his flatt'ring artes to fayle, The doubtfull damzell dare not yet committ And subtile engines bett from batteree;

Her single person to their barbarous truth; With greedy force he gan the fort assayle,

But still twixt feare and hope amazd does sitt, Whereof he weend possessed soone to bee,

Late learnd what harme to hasty trust ensu'th: And win rich spoile of ransackt chastitee.

They, in compassion of her tender youth Ah Heavens! that doe this hideous act bebold, And wonder of her beautie soverayne, And heavenly virgin thus outraged see,

Are woune with pitty and unwonted ruth; How can ye vengeance just so long withhold, And, all prostrate upon the lowly playne, And hurle not Hashing flames upon that Paynim Doe kisse her feete, and fawne on her with bold?

count'nance fayne. The pitteous mayden, carefull, comfortlesse,

Their barts she ghesseth by their humble guise, Does throw out thrilling shriekes, and shriekingeryes,

And yieldes her to extremitie of time: (The last va ne helpe of wemens greate distresse)

So from the ground she fearelesse doth arise,

And walketh forth without suspect of crime:
And with loud plaintes importuneth the skyes;
That molten starres doc drop like weeping eyes ;

They, all as glad as b'rdes of ioyous pryme,

Thence lead her forth, about her dauncing round, And Phæbus, flying so most shameful sight,

Shouting, and singing all a shepheards ryme; His blushing face in foggy cloud implyes, And hydes for shame. What witt of mortall wight And, with greene braunches strowing all the ground, Can now devise to quitt a thrall from such a plight?

Do worship ber as queene with olive girlond cround.

And all the way their merry pipes they sound, Eternall Providence, exceeding thought,

That all the woods with doubled eccho ring; Where none appeares can make her selfe a way!

And with their horned fret doe weare the ground, A wondrous way it for this lady wrought,

Leaping like wanton kids in pleasant spring. From iyons clawes to pluck the gryped pray. So towards old Sylvanus they her bring; Her shrill outcryes and sbrieks so loud did bray,

Who, with the noyse awaked, commeth out That all the woodes and forestes did resownd:

- To weet the cause, his weake steps governing A tro(Ipe of Faunes and Satyres far away

And aged limbs on cypresse stadle stout; Within the wood were dauncing in a rownd,

And with an yvie twyne his waste is girt about. Whiles old Sylvanus slept in shady arber sownd:

Far off he wonders what them makes so glad, Who, when they heard that pitteous strained voice, Or Bacchus merry fruit they did invent, In haste forsooke their rurali meriment,

Or Cybeles franticke rites have made them mad: And ran towardes the far rebownded novce, They, drawing nigh, unto their god present To weet what w ght so loudly did lament.

That tlowre of fayth and beautie excellent: Unto the place they come incontinent:

The god himselfe, vewing that mirrhour rare, Whom when the raying Sarazin espyde,

Stood Song amazd, and burnt in his intent: A rude, mishapen, monstrous rablement,

His on ne favre Dryope now he thinkes not faire, Whose I ke he never aw, he durst not byde; And Pholoë fowle, when her to this he doth comBut got his ready steed, and fast away gan ryde. paire.

The wood-borne people fall before her flat, So long in secret cabin there he beld
And worship her as goddesse of the wood; Her captive to his sensuall desyre;
And old Sylvanus selfe bethinkes not, what Till that with timely fruit her belly sweld,
Totbinke of wight su fayre; but gazing stood And bore a boy unto that salvage syre:
In doubt to deerne her borne of earthly brood: Then home he suffied her for to retyre;
Sometimes dame Venus selfe he semes to see; For ransome leaving him the late-borne childe :
But Venus never had co sober mood :

Whom, till to ryper years he gan aspyre,
Sometimes Diana he her takes to be,

He nousled up in life and maners wilde, (exilde. But mis-eth bow and shafies, and buskins to her knee. Emongst wild beastes and woods, from lawes of men Br vew of her be ginneth to revive

For all he taught the tender ymp, was but His an ient lore, and dearest Cvparisse;

To banish cowardize and bastard feare: And calles to mind his pourtraiture alive,

His trembling hand he would him force to put How fayre he was, and yet not fayre to this; l'pon the lyou and the rugged beare; And how he slew with glauncing dart amisse And from the she-beares teats her whelps to teare; A gentle hynd, the which the lovely boy

And eke wyld roring buls he would him make Did love as life, above all worldly blisse:

To tame, and ryde their backes not made to beare; For griefe wbereof the lad n'ouid after ioy; And the robuckes in flight to overtake: But pynd away in anguish and self-wild annoy. That everie beast for feare of him did fly and quake. The wooddy nymphes, faire Hamadryades,

Thereby so fearelesse and so fell he grew, Her to behold do thether rudne apace;

That his owne spre and maister of his guise And all the troupe of light-fvot Naiades

Did often tremble at his horrid vew; Flocke all about to see her lovely face:

And oft, for dread of hurt, would him advise But, wkco they vewed bare her hearenly grace,

The angry beastes not rashly to despise, They envy her in their malicious mind,

Nor too much to provoke ; for he would learne And fly away for feare of fowle disgrace: But all the Satvres scorne their woody kind. [find. (A lesson hard) and make the l'bbard sterne

The lyon stoup to bim in lowly wise, And henceforth nothing faire, but her, on Earth they Leave roaring, when in rage be for revenge did carne. Glad of such lucke, the luckelesse lucky mayd Did her content to please their feeble eyes;

And, for to make his powre approved more, And long time with that salvage people stayd,

Wyld beastes in yron yokes he would compell; To gather breath in mary miseryes.

The spotted panther, and the tusked bore,
During which time her gentle wit she plyes,

The pardale swift, and the tigré cruéll,
To teach them truth, which worshipt her in vaine, The antelope and wolfe, both fiers and fell;
And made her th' image of idolatryes :

And them constraine in equall teme to draw.
But, when their bootlesse zeale she did restrayne

Such ioy he had their stubborne barts to quell, From her own worship, they her asse would wor

And sturdie courage tame with dreadfull aw; ship fayn.

That his beheast they feared, as a tyrans law. It fortuned, a noble warlike knight

His loving mother came upon a day Ey iast occasion to that forrest came

Unto the woodes, to see her little sonne; To serke his kindred, and the lignage right

And chaunst unwares to meet him in the way, From whence he tooke his wel-deserved name: After his sportes and cruril pastime donne; He had in armes abroad wodne muchell faine,

When after him a lyonesse did runne, And fild far landes with glorie of his might;

That roaring all with rage did lowd requere Plaine, faithfull, true, and enimy of shame,

Her children deare, whom he away had wonne : And ever lor'd to fight for ladies right:

The lyon whelpes she saw how he did beare, Eat in vaine glorious frayes he litle did delight. And lull in rugged armes withouten childish feare. A satyres sonne yborne in forrest wyld,

The fearefull dame all quaked at the sight, By straunge adventure as it did betyde,

And turuing backe gan fast to fly away;
And there begotten of a lady myld,

Untill, with love revokt from vaine affright,
Fayre Thyamis the daughter of Labryde; She bardly yet perswaded was to stay,
Taat was in sacred bandes of wedlocke tyde

And then to him these womanish words gan say: To Therion, a loose unruly swayne,

" Ah, Satyrane, my dearling and my ivy, Who had more joy to raunge the forrest wyde, For love of me leave off this dreadfull play; And chase the salsage beast with busie payne,

To dally thus with death is no fit toy: (boy." Then serve bis ladies love, and waste in pleasures Go, find some other play-fellowes, mine own sweet vayT.

In these and like delightes of bloody game The forlorne mayd did with loves longing burne, He trayned was, till ryper years he raught; And muld pot lacke her lovers company;

And there abode, whylst any beast of name But to the wood she goes, to serve her turne, Walkt in that forrest, whom he had not taught And seeke ber spouse, that from her still does fly

To feare his force: and then his courage haught And followes other gaine and venery :

Desyrd of forreine foemen to be knowne, A Satyre channst her wandring for to finde; And far abroad for straunge adventures sought; And, kindling coles of lust in brutish eye,

In which his might was never overthrowpe; The loyall linkes of wedbcke did unbinde, But through al Faery lond his famous worth was Apd made her person thrall unto his beastly kind.


Yet evermore it was his manner faire,

That cruell word her tender hart so thrild, After long labours and adventures spent,

That suddein cold did ronne through every vaine, Unto those native woods for to repaire,

And stony horrour all her sences fild To see his syre and ofspring auncient.

With dying fitt, that downe she fell for paine. And now he thether came for like intent;

The knight her lightly reared up againe, Where he unwares the fairest Una found,

And comforted with curteous kind reliefe: Straunge lady, in so straunge habiliment,

Then, wonne from death, she bad him tellen plaine Teaching the Satyres, which her sat around, (dound. The further processe of her hidden griefe: [chief. Trew sacred lore, which from her sweet lips did re- The lesser pangs can beare, who hath endur'd the He wondred at her wisedome hevenly rare, Then gan the pilgrim thus; “ I chaunst this day, Whose like in womens witt he never knew; This fatall day, that shall I ever rew, And, when her curteous deeds he did coinpare, To see two knights, in travell on my way, Gan her admire, and her sad sorrowes rew, (A sory sight) arraung'd in batteill new, Blaming of Fortune, which such troubles threw, Both breathing vengeaunce, both of wrathfull hew: And joyd to make proofe of her cruelty

My feareful fesh did tremble at their strife, On gentle dame, so hurtlesse and so trew: To see their blades so greedily imbrew, Thenceforth he kept her goodly company,

That, dronke with blood, yet thristed after life: And learnd her discipline of faith and verity. What more? the Redcrosse knight was slain with

Paynim knife."
But she, all rowd unto the Redcrosse knight,
His wandring perill closely did lament,

“ Ah! dearest lord,” quoth she, “how might that Ne in this new acquaintaunce could delight; And he the stoutest knight, that ever wonne ?” (bee, But her deare heart with anguish did torment, Ah ! dearest dame," quoth he, “how might I see And all her witt in secret counsels spent,

The thing, that might not be, and yet was donne?" How to e-cape. At last in privy wise

“ Where is,” said Satyrane, “that Paynims sonne, To Satyrane she shewed her intent;

That bim of life, and us of joy, hath refte?” Who, glad to gain such favour, gan devise, (arise. “ Not far away,” quoth he, “ he hence doth wonne, How with that pensive maid he best might thence Foreby a fountaine, where Ilate him left (were cleft.”

Washing his bloody wounds, that through the steele So on a day, when Satyres all were gone To do their service to Sylvanus old,

Therewith the knight then marched forth in hast, The gentle virgin, left behinde alone,

Whiles Una, with huge heavinesse opprest, He led away with corage stout and bold.

Could not for sorrow follow him so fast; Too late it was to Satyres to be told,

And soone he came, as he the place had ghest, Or ever hope recover her againe;

Whereas that Pagan proud bimselfe did rest In raine he seekes that, having, cannot hold. In secret shadow by a fountaine side; So fast he carr ed her with carefull paine, (plaine. Even he it was, that earst would have supprest That they the woods are past, and come now to the Faire Una; whom when Satyrane espide,

With foule reprochful words he boldly him defide; The better part now of the lingring day They traveild had, whenas they far espide And said, “ Arise, thou cursed miscreaunt, (train, A weary wight forwandring by the way;

That hast with knightlesse guile, and trecherous And towards him they gan in hast to ride,

Faire knighthood fowly shamed, and doest vaunt To weete of newes that did abroad betyde, That good knight of the Redcrosse to have slain: Or tidings of her knight of the Redcrosse;

Arise, and with like treason now maintain But he, them spying, gan to turne aside

Thy guilty wrong, or els thee guilty yield.” For feare, as seemd, or for some feigned losse: The Sarazin, this hearing, rose amain, More greedy they of newes fast towards him do And, catching up in hast his three-square shield

And shining helmet, soone him buckled to the field; A silly man, in simple weeds forworne,

And, drawing nigh him, said ; “ Ah! misborn Elfe, And soild with dust of the long dried way;

In evill boure thy foes thee hither sent His sandales were with toilso:ne travell torne, Anothers wrongs to wreak upon thy selfe: And face all tand with scorching sunny ray, Yet ill thou blamest me, for having blent As he had trave Id many a sommers day

My name with guile and traiterous intent: Through boyling sands of Arabie and Ynde; That Redcrosse knight, perdie, I never slew; And in his hand a lacobs staffe, to stay

But had he beene, where earst his armes were lent, His weary limbs upon; and eke behind [bind. Th’enchaunter vaine bis errour should not rew: His scrip did hang, in which bis needments he did But thou his errour shalt, I hope, now proven trew." The knight, approching nigh, of him inquerd Therewith they gan, both furious and fell, Tidings of warre, and of adventures new;

To thunder blowes, and fiersly to assaile But warres, nor new adventures, none he herd. Each other, bent his enimy to quell; Then Una gan to aske, if ought he knew

That with their force they perst both plate and maile, Or heard abroad of that her champion trew, And made wide furrowes in their fleshes fraile, That in his armour bare a croslet red.

[rew That it would pitty any living eie: “ Ay me! deare dame," qnoth he, “well may I Large floods of blood adowne their sides did raile; To tell the sad sight which mine eies have red;[ded.” But floods of blood could not them satisfie: These eies did see that knight both living and eke Both hongred after death ; both chose to win, or die.


So long they fight, and full revenge pursue, Who when, returning from the drery Night, That, fainting, each theinselves to breathen lett ; She found not in that perilous Hous of Pryde, And, ofte refreshed, battell oft renue.

Where she had left the noble redcrosse knight, As when two bores, with rancling malice mett, Her hoped pray; she would no lenger byde, Their gory sides fresh bleeding fiercely frett; But forth she went to se ke him far and wide. Til breathlesse both themselves aside retire, Ere long she fownd, whereas he wearie sate Where, foming wrath, their cruelltuskes they whett, To rest him selfe, foreby a fountaine syde, And trample th' earth, the whiles they may respire; Disarmed all of yron-coted plate; Then backe to fight againe, new breathed and entire. And by his side his steed the grassy forage ate. So fiersly, when these knights had breathed once, Hee feedes upon the cooling shade, and bayes They gan to fight retourne; increasing more His sweatie forehead in the breathing wynd, Their puissant force, and crueli rage attonce, Which through the trembling leaves full gently With heaped strokes more hugely then before; Wherein the chearefull birds of sundry kynd (playes, That with their drery wounds, and bloody gore, Doe chaunt sweet musick, to delight his mynd : They both deformed, scarsely could bee kuown. The witch approching gan him fayrely greet, By this, sad Una franght with anguish sore, And with reproch of carelesnes unkynd Led with their noise which through the aire was (pbrayd, for leaving her in place unmeet, thrown,

With fowle words tempring faire, soure gall with Arriv'd, wher they in erth their fruitles blood had

hony sweet. sown.

Unkindnesse past, they gan of solace treat, Whom all so soone as that proud Sarazin

And bathe in pleasaunce of the joyous shade, Espide, he gan revive the memory

Which shielded them against the boyling beat, Of his leud lusts, and late attempted sin;

And, with greene boughes decking a gloumy glade, And lefte the doubtfull battel hastily,

About the fountaine like a girlond made; To catch her, fewly offred to his eie :

Whose bubbling wave did ever freshly well, Bat Satyrane, with strokes him turning, staid, Ne ever would through fervent sommer fade: And sternely bad him other business plie

The sacred nymph, which therein wont to dwell, Then hunt the steps of pure unspotted maid : Was out of Dianes favor, as it then befell. Wherewith he al enrag'd these bitter speaches said;

The cause was this: one day, when Phæbe fayre 4 foolish Faeries sonne, what fury mad

With all her band was following the chace, Hath thee incenst to hast thy dolefull fate? This nymph, quite tyr'd with beat of scorching ayre, Were it not better I that lady had

Satt downe to rest in middest of the race: Then that thou hadst repented it too late? The goddesse wroth gan fowly her disgrace, Most sencelesse man he, that himselfe doth bate And badd the waters, wbich from her did flow, To love another: lo then, for thine ayd,

Be such as she her selfe was then in place. Here take thy lovers token on thy pate."

Thenceforth her waters wexed dull and slow; (grow. So they to fight; the whiles the royall mayd And all, that drinke thereof, do faint and feeble Fledd farre away, of that proud Paynim sore afrayd.

Hereof this gentle knight unweeting was; But that faise pilgrim, which that leasing told, And, lying downe upon the sandie graile, Being in deed old Archimage, did stay

Dronke of the streame, as cleare as christall glas: Io secret shadow all this to behold;

Eftsoones his manly forces gan to fayle, And much reioyced in their bloody fray:

And mightie strong was turnd to feeble frayle. Bat, when he saw the damsell passe away, His chaunged powres at first themselves not felt; He left his stond, and her pursewd apace,

Till crudled cold bis corage gan assayle, In hope to bring her to her last decay.

And cheareful blood in fayntnes chill did melt, But for to tell her lamentable cace,

Which, like a fever fit, through all his bodie swelt. And eke this battels end, will need another place.

Yet goodly court he made still to his dame,
Pourd out in loosnesse on the grassy grownd,

Both carelesse of his health, and of his fame:

Till at the last he heard a dreadfull sownd,

Which through the wood loud bellowing did rebound, The Redcrosse knight is captive made That all the Earth for terror seemnd to shake, By gyaunt proud opprest :

And trees did tremble. Th' Elfe, therewith astownd, Prince Arthure meets with Una great- Upstarted lightly from his looser make, ly with those newes distrest.

And his unready weapons gan in hand to take. What man so wise, what earthly witt so ware, But ere he could his armour on him dight, As to discry the crafty cunning traine,

Or gett his shield, his monstrous enimy By which Deceipt doth maske in visour faire, With sturdie steps came stalking in his sight, And cast her coulours died deepe in graine, And hideous geaunt, borrible and hye, To seeme like Truth, whose shape she well can faine, That with his tallnesse seemd to threat the skyc; And fitt'ng gestures to her purpose frame, The ground eke groned under him for dreed: The guiltlesse man with guile to entertaine? His living like saw never living eye, Great maistresse of ber art was that false dame, Ne durst behold; his stature did exceed The false Duessa, cloked with Fidessaes name. The hight of three the tallest sonnes of mortall seed.

The greatest Earth his úocouth mother was, From that day forth Duessa was his deare,
And blustring Æolus bis boasted syre; [pas, And highly honourd in his haughtie eye:
Who with his breath, which through the world doth He gave her gold and purple pall to weare,
Her hollow womb did secretly inspyre,

And triple crowne set on her head full hye,
And fild her hidden caves with stormie yre,

And her endowd with royall maiestye:
That she conceiv'd; and trebling the dew time, Then, for to make her dreaded more of men,
In wbich the wombes of wemen do expure,

And peoples bartes with awfull terror tye,
Brought forth this monstrous masse of earthly slyme, A monstrous beast ybredd in filthy fen [den.
Puft up with emptie wynd, and fild with sinfull Ile chose, which he had kept long time in darksom

Such one it was, as that renowmed snake So growen great, through arrogant delight

Wbich great Alcides in Stremopa slew, Of th' high descent whereof he was yborne,

Long fostred in the filth of Lerna lake: And through presumption of his matchlesse might, whose many heades out-budding ever new All other powres and knighthood he did scorne.

Did breed him endiesse labor to subdew. Such now he marcheth to this man forlorne,

But this same monster much more ugly was; And left to losse; his stalking steps are stayde

For seven great beads out of his body grew, Upon a snagsv oke, which he had torne Out of his mothers bowelles, and it made (mayde. And all embrewd in blood his eyes did shine as glas.

An yron brest, and back of scaly bras, His mortall mace, wherewith his foemen he disThat, when the knight he spyde, he gan advaunce His tayle was stretched out in wondrous length, With huge force and insupportable mayne,

That to the hous of hevenly gods it raught; And towardes him with dreadfull fury praunce;

And with extorted powre, and borrow'd strength, Who haplesse, and eke hopelesse, all in vaine

The everburning lamps from thence it braught, Did to himn pace sad baitailc to darrayne,

And prowdly threw to ground, as things of naught; Disarmd, disgraste, and inwardly dismayde;

And underneath his filthy feet did tread And eke so faint in every ioynt and vayne,

The sacred thinges, and holy heastes foretaught. Through that fraile fountain, which him feeble made,

l'pon this dreadfull beast with sevenfold head That scarsely could be weeld his bootlesse single

He sett the false Duessa, for more aw and dread. blade.

The wofull dwarfe, which saw his maisters fall, The geaunt strooke so maynly mercilesse,

(Wbiles he had keeping of his grasing steed) That could have overthrowne a stony towre; And valiant knight become a caytive thrall; And, were not hevenly grace that did him blesse, When all was past, tooke up his förlorne weed; He had beene pouldred all, as thin as flowre; His mightie armour, missing most at need; But he was wary of that deadly stowre,

His silver shield, now idle, maisterlesse; And I ghtly lept from underneath the blow : His poynant speare, that many made to bleed; Yet so exceeding was the villeins powre,

The rueful moniments of heavinesse; [tresse. That with the winde it did him overthrow,

And with them all departes, to tell his great disAnd all his sences stoonil, that still he lay full low.

He had not travaild long, when on the way As when that divelish yron engin, wrought

He wofull lady, wofull Una, met In deepest Hell, and framd by Furies skill,

Fast flying from that Paynims greedy pray, With windy nitre and quick sulphur fraught,

Whilest Satyrane him from pursuit did let :
And ramd with bollet rownd, ordaind to kill,

Who when her eyes she on the dwarf bad set,
Conceveth fyre; the Heavens it doth fill
With thundring noyse, and all the ayre doth choke, She fell to ground for sorrowfull regret,

And saw the signes that deadly tydinges spake,
That none can breath, nor see, nor heare at will,
Through smou!dry clond of duskish stincking smoke; Yet might her pitteous hart be seen to pant and

And lively breath her sad brest did forsake; That th’ only breath him daunts, who hath escapt

quake. the stroke. So daunted when the geaunt saw the knight,

The messenger of so unhappie newes His heavie hand he heaved up on hye,

Would faine have dyde; dead was his hart within ; And him to dust thought to have battred quight,

Yet outwardly some little comfort shewes: Untill Duessa lond to him gan crye;

At last, recovering hart, he does begin “O great Orgoglio, greatest under skye,

To rub her temples, and to chaufe her chin, O! hold thy mortall hand for ladies sake;

And everie tender part does tosse and turne: Hold for my sake, and doe him not to dye,

So bardly he the flitted life does win But vanquisht thine eternall bondslave make,

Unto her native prison to retourne. (mourne: And me, thy worthy meed, unto thy leman take.” Then gins her grieved ghost thus to Jament and He hearkned, and did stay from further harmes, “ Ye dreary instruments of dolefull sight, To gayne so goodly guerdon as she spake: That doe this deadly spectacle behold, So w llingly she came into his armes,

Why doe ye lenger feed on loathed light, Whv her as willingly to grace d d take,

Or liking find to gaze on earthly mould, And was possessed of his newfound make.

Sith cruell fates the carefull threads unfould, Then up he tooke the slomnbred sencelesse corse; The which my life and love together tyde? And, ere he could out of his swowne awake, Now let the stony dart of sencelesse Cold Him to his castle brought with hastie forse, Perce to my hart, and pas through everie side; And in a dongeon deepe him threw without remorse. And let eternall night so sad sight fro me hyde.

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