58
The first Booke of
Cant. IIII.
Cause of my new griefe, cause of new ioy,Ioyous, to see his ymage in mine eye,And greeud, to thinke how foe did him destroy,That was the flowre of grace and cheualrye;Lo his Fidessa to thy secret faith I flye.
With gentle wordes he can her fayrely greet,And bad say on the secrete of her hart.Then sighing soft, I learne that litle sweetOft tempred is (quoth she) with muchell smart:For since my brest was launcht with louely dartOf deare Sanfoy, I neuer ioyed howre,But in eternall woes my weaker hartHaue wasted, louing him with all my powre,And for his sake haue felt full many an heauie stowre.
At last when perils all I weened past,And hop'd to reape the crop of all my care,Into new woes vnweeting I was cast,By this false faytor, who vnworthie wareHis worthie shield, whom he with guilefull snareEntrapped slew, and brought to shamefull graue.Me silly maid away with him he bare,And euer since hath kept in darksom caue,For that I would not yeeld, that to Sansfoy I gaue.
Bnt since faire Sunne hath sperst that lowring clowd,And to my loathed life now shewes some light,Vnder your beames I will me safely shrowd,From dreaded storme of his disdainfull spight:To you th'inheritance belonges by rightOf brothers prayse, to you eke longes his loue.Let not his loue, let not his restlesse spright,Be vnreueng'd, that calles to you aboueFrom wandring Stygian shores, where it doth endlesse moue.
Thereto
