Cant. II.
the Faerie Queene.
25
Shee turning backe with ruefull countenaunce,Cride, Mercy mercy Sir vouchsafe to showOn silly Dame, subiect to hard mischaunce,And to your mighty wil. Her humblesse lowIn so ritch weedes and seeming glorious show,Did much emmoue his stout heroïcke heart,And said, Deare dame, your suddein ouerthrowMuch rueth me; but now put feare apart,And tel, both who ye be, and who that tooke your part.
Melting in teares, then gan shee thus lament;The wreched woman, whom vnhappy howreHath now made thrall to your commandement,Before that angry heauens list to lowre,And fortune false betraide me to thy powre,Was, (O what now auaileth that I was?)Borne the sole daughter of an Emperour,He that the wide West vnder his rule has,And high hath set his throne, where Tiberis doth pas.
He in the first flowre of my freshest age,Betrothed me vnto the onely haireOf a most mighty king, most rich and sage;Was neuer Prince so faithfull and so faire,Was neuer Prince so meeke and debonaire;But ere my hoped day of spousall shone,My dearest Lord fell from high honors staire,Into the hands of hys accursed fone,And cruelly was slaine, that shall I euer mone.
His blessed body spoild of liuely breath,Was afterward, I know not how, conuaidAnd fro me hid: of whose most innocent deathWhen tidings came to mee vnhappy maid,
O how
