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The second Booke of
Cant. IIII.
In his strong armes he stifly him embraste,Who him gainstriuing, nought at all preuaild:For all his power was vtterly defaste,And furious fitts at earst quite weren quaild:Oft he re'nforst, and oft his forces fayld,Yet yield he would not, nor his rancor slack.Then him to ground he cast, and rudely hayld,And both his hands fast bound behind his backe,And both his feet in fetters to an yron rack.
With hundred yron chaines he did him bind,And hundred knots that did him sore constraine:Yet his great yron teeth he still did grind,And grimly gnash, threatning reuenge in vaine:His burning eyen, whom bloody strakes did staine,Stared full wide, and threw forth sparkes offyre,And more for ranck despight, then for great paine,Shakt his long locks, colourd like copper-wyre,And bitt his tawny beard to shew his raging yre.
Thus whenas Guyon Furor had captiud,Turning about he saw that wretched Squyre,Whom that mad man of life nigh late depriud,Lying on ground, all foild with blood and myre:Whom when as he perceiued to respyre,He gan to comfort, and his woundes to dresse.Being at last recured, he gan inquyre,What hard mishap him brought to such distresse,And made that caytiues thrall, the thrall of wretchednesse.
With hart then throbbing, and with watry eyes,Fayre Sir (qd. he) what man can shun the hap,That hidden lyes vnwares him to surpryseMisfortune waites aduantage to entrap
The
