And waft his wretched daies in wofull plight;
So on him felfe to wreake his follies owne defpight.

And eke his garment, to be thereto meet,

He wilfully did cut and fhape anew;

And his faire lockes, that wont with ointment sweet
To be embaulm'd, and fweat out dainty dew,

He let to grow and griefly to concrew,
Vncomb'd, vncurl'd, and carelefly vnfhed;
That in fhort time his face they ouergrew,
And ouer all his fhoulders did difpred,

That who he whilome was, vneath was to be red.

There he continued in this carefull plight,
Wretchedly wearing out his youthly yeares,
Through wilfull penury confumed quight,
That like a pined ghoft he foone appeares.
For other food then that wilde forreft beares,
Ne other drinke there did he euer taft,
Then running water, tempred with his teares,
The more his weakened body so to waft:
That out of all mens knowledge he was
laft./

For on a day, by fortune as it fell,

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worne at

His owne deare Lord Prince Arthure came that way, Seeking aduentures, where he mote heare tell ;

And as he through the wandring wood did ftray,

Hauing efpide this Cabin far away,

He to it drew, to weet who there did wonne;
Weening therein fome holy Hermit lay,

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That did resort of finfull people shonne;

Or elfe fome woodman fhrowded there from fcorching funne.

Arriuing there, he found this wretched man,

Spending his daies in dolour and despaire,
And through long fafting woxen pale and wan,
All ouergrowen with rude and rugged haire ;
That albeit his owne deare Squire he were,
Yet he him knew not, ne auiz'd at all,

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But like strange wight, whom he had feene no where, Saluting him, gan into speach to fall,

And pitty much his plight, that liu'd like outcast thrall.

But to his speach he aunfwered no whit,

But ftood ftill mute, as if he had beene dum,
Ne figne of fence did fhew, ne common wit,
As one with griefe and anguishe ouercum,
And vnto euery thing did aunswere mum:
And euer when the Prince vnto him spake,
He louted lowly, as did him becum,
And humble homage did vnto him make,
Midft forrow fhewing ioyous femblance for his fake.

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At which his vncouth guise and vsage quaint
The Prince did wonder much, yet could not ghesse
The cause of that his forrowfull constraint;
Yet weend by secret signes of manlinesse,
Which/clofe appeard in that rude brutishnesse,
That he whilome fome gentle fwaine had beene,
Traind vp in feats of armes and knightlineffe ;
Which he obferu'd, by that he him had seene
To weld his naked sword, and try the edges keene.

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And eke by that he faw on every tree,

How he the name of one engrauen had,
Which likly was his liefeft loue to be,
For whom he now fo forely was beftad;

Which was by him BELPHEBE rightly rad.
Yet who was that Belphebe, he ne wift;

Yet faw he often how he wexed glad,

When he it heard, and how the ground he kist, Wherein it written was, and how himselfe he blist: 420

Tho when he long had marked his demeanor,
And faw that all he faid and did, was vaine,

Ne ought mote make him change his wonted tenor,
Ne ought mote ease or mitigate his paine,
He left him there in languor to remaine,
Till time for him fhould remedy prouide,
And him reftore to former grace againe.
Which for it is too long here to abide,

I will deferre the end vntill another tide.

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Cant. VIII.

The gentle Squire recouers grace,
Selaunder her guests doth flaine:
Conflambo chafeth Placidas,

And is by Arthure flaine.

W

Ell faid the wifeman, now prou'd true by this, Which to this gentle Squire did happen late. That the displeasure of the mighty is Then death it felfe more dread and defperate. For naught the fame may calme ne mitigate, Till time the tempeft doe thereof delay With fufferaunce foft, which rigour can abate, And haue the fterne remembrance wypt away Of bitter thoughts, which deepe therein infixed lay.

Like as it fell to this vnhappy boy,

Whofe tender heart the faire Belphebe had,
With one fterne looke fo daunted, that no ioy
In all his life, which afterwards he lad,

He euer tafted, but with penaunce fad
And penfiue forrow pind and wore away,

Ne euer laught, ne once fhew'd countenance glad;

1. 10, nought': 1. 14, ‘infected' 1611 (bad).

ΙΟ

20

But alwaies wept and wailed night and day,

As blafted bloofme through heat doth languish & decay;

Till on a day, as in his wonted wife

His doole he made, there chaunft a turtle Doue
To come, where he his dolors did deuife,
That likewife late had loft her dearest loue;
Which/loffe her made like passion also proue.
Who fecing his fad plight, her tender hart
With deare compaffion deeply did enmouc,
That the gan mone his vndeferued fmart,
And with her dolefull accent beare with him apart.

Shee fitting by him as on ground he lay,

Her mournefull notes full piteously did frame,
And thereof made a lamentable lay,

So fenfibly compyld, that in the fame

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Him feemed oft he heard his owne right name. With that he forth would poure fo plenteous teares, And beat his breast vnworthy of such blame, And knocke his head, and rend his rugged heares, That could haue perft the hearts of Tigres & of Beares.

Thus long this gentle bird to him did vse,

Withouten dread of perill to repaire

Vnto his wonne, and with her mournefull mufe

Him to recomfort in his greatest care,

That much did ease his mourning and misfare:
And euery day for guerdon of her fong,
He part of his fmall feaft to her would fhare;
That at the laft of all his woe and wrong
Companion fhe became, and fo continued long.

1. 23, ;—accepted, and so I. 27: II. 24-5, (as . . . made).

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