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And sayd; "Sith then thou knowest all our griefe,
(For what doest not thou know?) of grace I pray,
Pitty our playnt, and yield us meet reliefe !"
With that the prophet still awhile did stay,
And then his spirite thus gan foorth display;
"Most noble virgin, that by fatall lore
Hast learn'd to love, let no whit the dismay
The hard beginne that meetes thee in the dore,
And with sharpe fits thy tender hart oppresseth sore:

"For so must all things excellent begin;
And eke enrooted deepe must be that tree,
Whose big embodied braunches shall not lin
Till they to Hevens hight forth stretched bee.
For from thy wombe a famous progenee
Shall spring out of the auncient Trojan blood,
Which shall revive the sleeping memoree
Of those same antique peres, the Hevens brood,
Which Greeke and Asian rivers stayned with their
blood.

"Renowmed kings, and sacred emperours,
Thy fruitfull offspring, shall from thee descend;
Brave captaines, and most mighty warriors,
That shall their conquests through all lands extend,
And their decayed kingdomes shall amend:
The feeble Britons, broken with long warre,
They shall upreare, and mightily defend
Against their forren foe that commes from farre,
Till universall peace compound all civill iarre.

"It was not, Britomart, thy wandring eye
Glauncing unwares in charming looking-glas,
But the streight course of hevenly destiny,
Led with Eternall Providence, that has
Guyded thy glaunce, to bring his will to pas:
Ne is thy fate, ne is thy fortune ill,
To love the prowest knight that ever was:
Therefore submit thy wayes unto his will,
And doe, by all dew meanes, thy destiny fulfill.”

"But read," saide Glaucè, "thou magitian,

"Great ayd thereto his mighty puissaunce
And dreaded name shall give in that sad day;
Where also proofe of thy prow valiaunce
Thou then shalt make, t'increase thy lover's pray:
Long time ye both in armes shall bear e great sway,
Till thy wombes burden thee from them do call,
And his last fate him from thee take away';
Too rathe cut off by practise criminall

Of secrete foes, that him shall make in mischiefe fall.

"With thee yet shall he leave, for memory
Of his late puissaunce, his ymage dead,
That living him in all activity

To thee shall represent: he, from the head
Of his coosen Constantius, without dread
Shall take the crowne that was his fathers right,
And therewith crowne himselfe in th' others stead;
Then shall he issew forth with dreadfull might
Against his Saxon foes in bloody field to fight.

"Like as a lyon that in drowsie cave
Hath long time slept, himselfe so shall he shake;
And, comming forth, shall spred his banner brave
Over the troubled south, that it shall make
The warlike Mertians for feare to quake:
Thrise shall he fight with them, and twise shall win:
But the third time shall fayre accordaunce make:
And, if he then with victorie can lin,
[in.

He shall his dayes with peace bring to his earthly

"His sonne, hight Vortipore, shall him succeede In kingdome, but not in felicity:

Yet shall he long time warre with happy speed,
And with great honour many batteills try;
But at the last to th' importunity

Of froward fortune shall be forst to yield:
But his sonne Malgo shall full mightily
Avenge his fathers losse with speare and shield,
And his proud foes discomfit in victorious field.

"Behold the man! and tell me, Britomart,

What meanes shall she out-seeke, or what waies take? If ay more goodly creature thou didst see?

How shall she know, how shall she finde the man?
Or what needes her to toyle, sith fates can make
Way for themselves their purpose to pertake?"
Then Merlin thus; "Indeede the fates are firme,
And may not shrinck, though all the world do shake:
Yet ought mens good endevours them confirme,

How like a gyaunt in each manly part Beares he himselfe with portly maiestee, That one of th' old heroes seemes to bee!

He the six islands, comprovinciall

In auncient times unto great Britainee, Shall to the same reduce, and to him call

And guyde the heavenly causes to their constant Their sondry kings to do their homage severall.

terme.

"The man, whom Heavens have ordaynd to bee
The spouse of Britomart, is Arthegall:
He wenneth in the land of Fayëree,
Yet is no Fary borne, ne sib at all
To Elfes, but sprong of seed terrestriall,
And whylome by false Faries stolne away,
Whyles yet in infant cradle he did crall;
Ne other to himselfe is knowne this day,
But that he by an Elfe was gotten of a Fay.
"But sooth he is the sonne of Gorloïs,
And brother unto Cador, Cornish king;
And for his warlike feates renowmed is,
From where the day out of the sea doth spring,
Untill the closure of the evening:
From thence him, firmely bound with faithfull band,
To this his native soyle thou backe shalt bring,
Strongly to ayde his countrey to withstand [land.
The powre of forreine Paynims which invade thy

"All which his sonne Careticus awhile

Shall well defend, and Saxons powre suppresse;
Untill a straunger king, from unknowne soyle
Arriving, him with multitude oppresse;
Great Gormond, having with huge mightinesse
Ireland subdewd, and therein fixt his throne,
Like a swift otter, fell through emptinesse,
Shall overswim the sea with many one
Of his Norveyses, to assist the Britons fone.

"He in his furie shall over-ronne,
And holy church with faithlesse handes deface,
That thy sad people, utterly fordonne,
Shall to the utmost mountaines fly apace:
Was never so great waste in any place,
Nor so fowle outrage doen by living men;
For all thy citties they shall sacke and race,
And the greene grasse that groweth they shall bren,
That even the wilde beast shall dy in starved den.

"Whiles thus thy Britons doe in languour pine,
Proud Etheldred shall from the north arise,
Serving th' ambitious will of Augustine,
And, passing Dee, with hardy enterprise
Shall backe repulse the valiaunt Brockwell twise,
And Bangor with massacred martyrs fill;
But the third time shall rew his fool-hardise :
For Cadwan, pittying his peoples ill,

Shall stoutly him defeat, and thousand Saxons kill.

"But, after him, Cadwallin mightily

"Then woe, and woe, and everlasting woe,
Be to the Briton babe that shal be borne
To live in thraldome of his fathers foe!
Late king, now captive; late lord, now forlorne;
The worlds reproch; the cruell victors scorne;
Banisht from princely bowre to wasteful wood!
O! who shall helpe me to lament and mourne
The royall seed, the antique Trojan blood,
Whose empire lenger here then ever any stood!"
The damzell was full deepe empassioned

On his sonne Edwin all those wrongs shall wreake; Both for his griefe, and for her peoples sake,
Ne shall availe the wicked sorcery

Of false Pellite his purposes to breake,

But him shall slay, and on a gallowes bleak
Shall give th' enchaunter his unhappy hire:

Then shall the Britons, late dismayd and weake,
From their long vassallage gin to respire,

Whose future woes so plaine he fashioned;
And, sighing sore, at length him thus bespake;
"Ah! but will Hevens fury never slake,
Nor vengeaunce huge relent itselfe at last?
Will not long misery late mercy make,

But shall their name for ever be defaste, [raste?"

And on their Paynim foes avenge their wranckled ire. And quite from off the Earth their memory be

"Ne shall he yet his wrath so mitigate,
Till both the sonnes of Edwin he have slayne,
Offricke and Osricke, twinnes unfortunate,
Both slaine in battaile upon Layburne playne,
Together with the king of Louthiane,
Hight Adin, and the king of Orkeny,
Both joynt partakers of their fatall payne:
But Penda, fearefull of like desteney,

Shall yield himselfe his liegeman, and sweare fealty:

"Him shall he make his fatall instrument
T' afflict the other Saxons unsubdewd:
He marching forth with fury insolent
Against the good king Oswald, who indewd
With heavenly powre, and by angels reskewd,
All holding crosses in their handes on hye,
Shall him defeate withouten blood imbrewd:
Of which that field for endlessé memory
Shall Hevenfield be cald to all posterity.

"Whereat Cadwallin wroth shall forth issew,
And an huge hoste into Northumber lead,
With which he godly Oswald shall subdew,
And crowne with martiredome his sacred head:
Whose brother Oswin, daunted with like dread,
With price of silver shall his kingdome buy;
And Penda, seeking him adowne to tread,
Shall tread adowne, and doe him fowly dye;
But shall with gifts his lord Cadwallin pacify.

"Then shall Cadwallin die; and then the raine
Of Britons eke with him attonce shall dye;
Ne shall the good Cadwallader, with paine
Or powre, be hable it to remedy,
When the full time, prefixt by destiny,
Shall be expird of Britons regiment:
For Heven itselfe shall their successe envy,
And them with plagues and murrins pestilent
Consume, till all their warlike puissaunce be spent.

"Yet after all these sorrowes, and huge hills
Of dying people, during eight yeares space,
Cadwallader, not yielding to his ills,

From Armoricke, where long in wretched cace
He liv'd, retourning to his native place,
Shal be by vision staide from his intent:
For th' Heavens have decreed to displace
The Britons for their sinnes dew punishment,
And to the Saxons over-give their government.

"Nay but the terme," sayd he, "is limited,
That in this thraldome Britons shall abide;
And the just revolution measured
That they as straungers shal be notifide:
For twise fowre hundreth yeares shal be supplide,
Ere they to former rule restor'd shal bee,
And their importune fates all satisfide:
Yet, during this their most obscuritee,
Their beames shall ofte breake forth, that men them
faire may see.

"For Rhodoricke, whose surname shal be Great,
Shall of himselfe a brave ensample shew,
That Saxon kings his friendship shall intreat;
And Howell Dha shall goodly well indew
The salvage minds with skill of just and trew:
Then Griffyth Conan also shall upreare
His dreaded head, and the old sparkes renew
Of native corage, that his foes shall feare [beare.
Least back againe the kingdom he from them should

"Ne shall the Saxons selves all peaceably
Enioy the crowne, which they from Britons wonne
First ill, and after ruled wickedly:

For, ere two hundred yeares be full outronne,
There shall a raven, far from rising Sunne,
With his wide wings upon them fiercely fly,
And bid his faithlesse chickens overronne
The fruitfull plaines, and with fell cruelty
In their avenge tread downe the victors surquedry.

"Yet shall a third both these and thine subdew:
There shall a lion from the sea-bord wood
Of Neustria come roring, with a crew
Of hungry whelpes, his battailous bold brood,
Whose clawes were newly dipt in cruddy blood,
That from the Daniske tyrants head shall rend
Th' usurped crowne, as if that he were wood,
And the spoile of the countrey conquered
Emongst his young ones shall divide with bountyhed.

"Tho, when the terme is full accomplishid,
There shall a sparke of fire, which hath longwhile
Bene in his ashes raked up and hid,
Be freshly kindled in the fruitfull ile
Of Mona, where it lurked in exile;
Which shall breake forth into bright burning flame,
And reach into the house that beares the stile
Of royall maiesty and soveraine name: [clame.
So shall the Briton blood their crowne againe re-

"Thenceforth eternall union shall be made
Betweene the nations different afore,
And sacred Peace shall lovingly persuade
The warlike minds to learne her goodly lore,
And civile armes to exercise no more:
Then shall the royall virgin raine, which shall
Stretch her white rod over the Belgicke shore,
And the great castle smite so sore withall, [fall.
That it shall make him shake, and shortly learn to

"But yet the end is not"-There Merlin stayd,
As overcomen of the spirites powre,
Or other ghastly spectacle dismayd,
That secretly he saw, yet note discoure:
Which suddein fitt and halfe extatick stoure
When the two fearefull wemen saw, they grew
Greatly confused in behaveoure:

At last, the fury past, to former hew [shew.
Hee turnd againe, and chearfull looks as earst did

Then, when themselves they well instructed had
Of all that needed them to be inquird,
They both, conceiving hope of comfort glad,
With lighter hearts unto their home retird;
Where they in secret counsell close conspird,
How to effect so hard an enterprize,
And to possesse the purpose they desird:
Now this, now that, twixt them they did devize,
And diverse plots did frame to maske in strange dis-
guise.

At last the nonrse in her fool-hardy wit
Conceiv'd a bold devise, and thus bespake;
"Daughter, I deeme that counsel aye most fit,
That of the time doth dew advauntage take:
Ye see that good king Uther now doth make
Strong warre upon the Paynim brethren, hight
Octa and Oza, whome hee lately brake
Beside Cayr Verolame in victorious fight,
That now all Britany doth burne in armës bright.

"That therefore nought our passage may empeach,
Let us in feigned armes ourselves disguize, [teach
And our weake hands (need makes good schollers)
The dreadful speare and shield to exercize:
Ne certes, daughter, that same warlike wize,
I weene, would you misseeme; for ye beene tall
And large of limbe t'atchieve an bard emprize;
Ne ought ye want but skil, which practize small
Will bring, and shortly make you a mayd martiall.

"And, sooth, it ought your corage much inflame
To heare so often, in that royall hous,
From whence to none inferior ye came,
Bards tell of many wemen valorous,
Which have full many feats adventurous
Performd, in paragone of proudest men;
The bold Bunduca, whose victorious
Exployts made Rome to quake; stout Guendolen;
Renowmed Martia; and redoubted Emmilen;

"And, that which more then all the rest may sway,
Late dayes ensample, which these eies beheld:
In the last field before Menevia,

Which Uther with those forrein Pagans held,
I saw a Saxon virgin, the which feld
Great Ulfin thrise upon the bloody playne;
And, had not Carados her hand withheld
From rash revenge, she had him surely slayne;
Yet Carados himselfe from her escapt with payne."

"Ah! read,” quoth Britomart, "how is she hight?"
"Fayre Angela," quoth she, "men do her call,
No whit lesse fayre then terrible in fight:
She hath the leading of a martiall

And mightie people, dreaded more then all
The other Saxons, which doe, for her sake
And love, themselves of her name Angles call.
Therefore, faire infant, her ensample make
Unto thyselfe, and equall corage to thee take."

Her harty wordes so deepe into the mynd
Of the young damzell sunke, that great desire
Of warlike armes in her forthwith they tynd,
And generous stout courage did inspyre,
That she resolv'd, unweeting to her syre,
Advent'rous knighthood on herselfe to don;
And counseld with her nourse her maides attyre
To turne into a massy habergeon;
And bad her all things put in readiness anon.

Th' old woman nought that needed did omit;
But all thinges did conveniently purvay.
It fortuned (so time their turne did fitt)
A band of Britons, ryding on forray
Few dayes before, had gotten a great pray
Of Saxon goods; emongst the which was seene
A goodly armour, and full rich aray,
Which long'd to Angela, the Saxon queene,
All fretted round with gold and goodly wel beseene.

The same, with all the other ornaments,
King Ryence caused to be banged hy
In his chiefe church, for endlesse moniments
Of his successe and gladfu!! victory:
Of which herselfe avising readily,

In th' evening late old Glaucè thether led
Faire Britomart, and, that same armory
Downe taking, her therem appareled [nished.
Well as she might, and with brave bauldrick gar-

Beside those armes there stood a mightie speare,
Which Bladud made by magick art of yore,
And usd the same in batteill aye to beare;
Sith which it had beene here preserv'd in store,
For his great virtues proved long afore:
For never wight so fast in sell could sit,
But him perforce unto the ground it bore:
Both speare she tooke and shield which hong by it;
Both speare and shield of great powre, for her pur-
pose fit.

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CANTO IV.

Bold Marinell of Britomart

Is throwne on the Rich Strond: Faire Florimell of Arthur is

Long followed, but not fond.

WHERE is the antique glory now become,
That whylome wont in wemen to appeare?
Where be the brave atchievements doen by some?
Where be the batteilles, where the shield and speare,
And all the conquests which them high did reare,
That matter made for famous poets verse,
And boastfull men so oft abasht to heare?
Beene they all dead, and laide in dolefull herse?
Or doen they only sleepe, and shall againe reverse?

If they be dead, then woe is me therefore;
But if they sleepe, O let them soone awake!
For all too long I burne with envy sore

To heare the warlike feates which Homere spake
Of bold Penthesilee, which made a lake
Of Greekish blood so ofte in Trojan plaine';
But when I reade, how stout Debora strake
Proud Sisera, and how Camill' hath slaine
The huge Orsilochus, I swell with great disdaine.

Yet these, and all that els had puissaunce,
Cannot with noble Britomart compare,
Aswell for glorie of great valiaunce,
As for pure chastitee and vertue rare,
That all her goodly deedes doe well declare.
Well worthie stock, from which the branches sprong
That in late yeares so faire a blossome bare,
As thee, O queene, the matter of my song,
Whose lignage from this lady I derive along '

Who when, through speaches with the Redcrosse
She learned had th' estate of Arthegall, [knight,
And in each point herselfe informd aright,
A friendly league of love perpetuall
She with him bound, and congè tooke withall.
Then he forth on his iourney did proceede,
To seeke adventures which mote him befall,
And win him worship through his warlike deed,
Which alwaies of his paines he made the chiefest
meed.

But Britomart kept on her former course,
Ne ever dofte her armes; but all the way
Grew pensive through that amorous discourse,
By which the Redcrosse knight did earst display
Her lovers shape and chevalrous aray:
A thousand thoughts she fashiond in her mind;
And in her feigning fancie did pourtray
Him, such as fittest she for love could find,
Wise, warlike, personable, courteous, and kind.

With such selfe-pleasing thoughts her wound she
And thought so to beguile her grievous smart; [fedd,
But so her smart was much more grievous bredd,
And the deepe wound more deep engord her hart,
That nought but death her dolour mote depart.
So forth she rode, without repose or rest,
Searching all lands and each remotest part,
Following the guydance of her blinded guest,
Till that to the sea-coast at length she her addrest.

There she alighted from her light-foot beast,
And, sitting down upon the rocky shore,
Badd her old squyre unlace her lofty creast:
Tho, having vewd awhile the surges hore
That gainst the craggy clifts did loudly rore,
And in their raging surquedry disdaynd
That the fast earth affronted them so sore,
And their devouring covetize restraynd;
Thereat she sighed deepe, and after thus complaynd:

"Huge sea of sorrow and tempestuous griefe,
Wherein my feeble barke is tossed long
Far from the hoped haven of reliefe,
Why doe thy cruel billowes beat so strong,
And thy moyst mountaines each on others throng,
Threatning to swallow up my fearefull lyfe?
O, doe thy cruell wrath and spightfull wrong
At length allay, and stint thy stormy strife, [ryfe!
Which in these troubled bowels raignes and rageth

"For els my feeble vessell, crazd and crackt
Through thy strong buffets and outrageous blowes,
Cannot endure, but needes it must be wrackt
On the rough rocks, or on the sandy shallówes,
The whiles that Love it steres, and Fortune rowes:
Love, my lewd pilott, hath a restlesse minde;
And Fortune, boteswaine, no assuraunce knowes;
But saile withouten starres gainst tyde and winde:
How can they other doe, sith both are bold and
blinde!

"Thou god of windes, that raignest in the seas, That raignest also in the continent,

At last blow up some gentle gale of ease,
The which may bring my ship, ere it be rent,
Unto the gladsome port of her intent!
Then, when I shall myselfe in safety see,
A table, for eternall moniment

Of thy great grace and my great ieopardee,
Great Neptune, I avow to hallow unto thee!"

Then sighing softly sore, and inly deepe,
She shut up all her plaint in privy griefe;
(For her great courage would not let her weepe;)
Till that old Glaucè gan with sharpe repriefe
Her to restraine, and give her good reliefe
Through hope of those, which Merlin had her told
Should of her name and nation be chiefe,
And fetch their being from the sacred mould
Of her immortall womb, to be in Heven enrold.

Thus as she her recomforted, she spyde
Where far away one, all in armour bright,
With hasty gallop towards her did ryde:
Her dolour soone she ceast, and on her dight
Her helmet, to her courser mounting light:
Her former sorrow into sudden wrath

(Both coosen passions of distroubled spright)
Converting, forth she beates the dusty path:
Love and despight attonce her corage kindled bath.

As, when a foggy mist hath overcast
The face of Heven and the cleare ayre engroste,
The world in darknes dwels; till that at last
The watry southwinde from the seabord coste
Upblowing doth disperse the vapour lo'ste,
And poures itselfe forth in a stormy showre;
So the fayre Britomart, having discloste
Her clowdy care into a wrathfull stowre,
The mist of griefe dissolv'd did into vengeance powre.

Eftsoones, her goodly shield addressing fayre,
That mortall speare she in her hand did take,
And unto battaill did herselfe prepayre.
The knight, approching, sternely her bespake;
"Sir Knight, that doest thy voyage rashly make
By this forbidden way in my despight,
Ne doest by others death ensample take;
I read thee soone retyre, whiles thou hast might,
Least afterwards it be too late to take thy flight."

Ythrild with deepe disdaine of his proud threat,
She shortly thus; "Fly they, that need to fly;
Wordes fearen babes: I meane not thee entreat
To passe; but maugre thee will passe or dy:"
Ne lenger stayd for th' other to reply,
But with sharpespeare the rest made dearly knowne.
Strongly the straunge knight ran, and sturdily
Strooke her full on the brest, that made her downe
Decline her head, and touch her crouper with her

crown.

But she againe him in the shield did smite
With so fierce furie and great puissaunce,
That, through his three-square scuchin percing quite
And through his mayled hauberque, by mischaunce
The wicked steele through his left side did glaunce:

Him so transfixed she before her bore
Beyond his croupe, the length of all her launce;
Till, sadly soucing on the sandy shore,

He tombled on an heape, and wallowd in his gore.

Like as the sacred oxe that carelesse stands
With gilden hornes and flowry girlonds crownd,
Proud of his dying honor and deare bandes,
Whiles th' altars fume with frankincense arownd,
All suddeinly with mortall stroke astownd
Doth groveling fall, and with his streaming gore
Distaines the pillours and the holy grownd,
And the faire flowres that decked him afore:
So fell proud Marinell upon the Pretious Shore.

The martiall mayd stayd not him to lament,
But forward rode, and kept her ready way
Along the strond; which, as she over-went,
She saw bestrowed all with rich aray
Of pearles and pretious stones of great assay,
And all the gravell mixt with golden owre:
Whereat she wondred much, but would not stay
For gold, or perles, or pretious stones, an howre,
But them despised all; for all was in her powre.

Whiles thus he lay in deadly stonishment,
Tydings hereof came to his mothers eare;
His mother was the blacke-browd Cymoënt,
The daughter of great Nereus, which did beare
This warlike sonne unto an earthly peare,
The famous Dumarin; who on a day
Finding the nymph asleepe in secret wheare,
As he by chaunce did wander that same way,
Was taken with her love, and by her closely lay.

There he this knight of her begot, whom borne
She, of his father, Marinell did name;
And in a rocky cave as wight forlorne
Long time she fostred up, till he became
A mighty man at armes, and mickle fame
Did get through great adventures by him donne :
For never man he suffred by that same

Rich strond to travell, whereas he did wonne, [sonne.
But that he must do battail with the sea-nymphes
VOL-III.

An hundred knights of honorable name
He had subdew'd, and them his vassals made:
That through all Farie lond his noble fame
Now blazed was, and feare did all invade,
That none durst passen through that perilous glade:
And, to advaunce his name and glory more,
Her sea-god syre she dearely did perswade
T endow her sonne with threasure and rich store
Bove all the sonnes that were of earthly wombes
ybore.

The god did graunt his daughters deare demaund,
To doen his nephew in all riches flow:
Eftsoones his heaped waves he did commaund
Out of their hollow bosome forth to throw
All the huge threasure, which the sea below
Had in his greedy gulfe devoured deepe,
And him enriched through the overthrow
And wreckes of many wretches, which did weepe
And often wayle their wealth which he from them
did keepe.

Shortly upon that shore there heaped was
The spoyle of all the world; that it did pas
Exceeding riches and all pretious things,
The wealth of th' East, and pompe of Persian kings:
Gold, amber, yvorie, perles, owches, rings,
And all that els was pretious and deare,
The sea unto him voluntary brings;
That shortly he a great lord did appeare,
As was in all the lond of Faery, or elsewheare.
Thereto he was a doughty dreaded knight,
Tryde often to the scath of many deare,
That none in equall armes him matchen might:
The which his mother seeing gan to feare
Least his too haughtie hardines might reare
Some hard mishap in hazard of his life:
Forthy she oft him counseld to forbeare
The bloody batteill, and to stirre up strife,
But after all his warre to rest his wearie knife:

And, for his more assurance, she inquir'd
One day of Proteus by his mighty spell
(For Proteus was with prophecy inspir'd)
Her deare sonnes destiny to her to tell,
And the sad end of her sweet Marinell:
Who, through foresight of his eternall skill,
Bad her from womankind to keepe him well;
For of a woman he should have much ill; [kill.
A virgin straunge and stout him should dismay or

Forthy she gave him warning every day
The love of women not to entertaine;
A lesson too, too hard for living clay,
From love in course of nature to refraine!
Yet he his mothers lore did well retaine,
And ever from fayre ladies love did fly;
Yet many ladies fayre did oft complaine,
That they for love of him would algates dy:
Dy, whoso list for him, he was Loves enimy.

But ah! who can deceive his destiny,
Or weene by warning to avoyd his fate?
That, when he sleepes in most security
And safest seemes, him soonest doth amate,
And findeth dew effect or scone or late;
So feeble is the powre of fleshly arme!
His mother bad him wemens love to hate,
For she of womans force did feare no harme;
So weening to have arm'd him, she did quite disarme.

M

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