38
The first Booke of
Cant. III.
Dronke vp his life; his corse left on the strand.His fearefull freends we are out the wofull night,Ne dare to weepe, nor seeme to vnderstandThe heauie hap, which on them is alight,Affraid, least to themselues the like mishappen might.
Now when broad day the world discouered has,Vp Vna rose, vp rose the lyon eke,And on their former iourney forward pas,In waies vnknowne, her wandring knight to seeke,With paines far passing that long wandring Greeke,That for his loue refused deitye;Such were the labours of this Lady meeke,Still seeking him, that from her still did flye,Then furthest from her hope, whē most she weened nye.
Soone as she parted thence, the fearfull twayne,That blind old woman and her daughter dearCame forth, and finding Kirkrapine there slayne,For anguish great they gan to rend their heare,And beat their brests, and naked flesh to teare.And whcn they both had wept and wayld their fill,Then forth they ran like two amazed deare,Halfe mad through malice, and reuenging will,To follow her, that was the causer of their ill.
Whome ouertaking, they gan loudly bray,With hollow houling, and lamenting cry,Shamefully at her rayling all the way,And her accusing of dishonesty,That was the flowre of faith and chastity;And still amidst her rayling she did pray,That plagues, and mischiefes, and long miseryMight fall on her, and follow all the way,And that in endlesse error she might euer stray.
But
