VII

And other whiles vaine toyes she would devize,
As her fantasticke wit did most delight:
Sometimes her head she fondly would aguize
With gaudy girlonds, or fresh flowrets dight
About her necke, or rings of rushes plight:
Sometimes, to do him laugh, she would assay
To laugh at shaking of the leaves light
Or to behold the water worke and play
About her little frigot, therein making way.

VIII

Her light behaviour and loose dalliaunce Gave wondrous great contentment to the knight,

That of his way he had no sovenaunce,
Nor care of vow'd revenge and cruell fight,
But to weake wench did yield his martiall
might:

So easie was to quench his flamed minde
With one sweete drop of sensuall delight.
So easie is t'appease the stormy winde [kind.
Of malice in the calme of pleas aunt woman

IX

Diverse discourses in their way they spent;
Mongst which Cymochles of her questioned
Both what she was, and what that usage ment,
Which in her cott she daily practized?
'Vaine man,' (saide she) that wouldest be
reckoned

A straunger in thy home, and ignoraunt
Of Phædria, (for so my name is red)
Of Phædria, thine owne fellow servaunt;
For thou to serve Acrasia thy selfe doest vaunt.

X

'In this wide Inland sea, that hight by name The Idle lake, my wandring ship I row, That knowes her port, and thither gayles by

ayme,

Thus when shee had his eyes and sences fed
With false delights, and fild with pleasures
Into a shady dale she soft him led, [vayn,
And layd him downe upon a grassy playn;
And her sweete selfe without dread or disdayn
She sett beside, laying his head disarmd
In her loose lap, it softly to sustayn,
Where soone he slumbred fearing not be harmd:
The whiles with a love lay she thus him sweetly
charmd.

6

XV

Ne care, ne feare I how the wind do blow, Or whether swift I wend, or whether slow: Both slow and swift alike do serve my tourne; Behold, O man! that toilesome paines doest Ne swelling Neptune ne lowd thundring Jove take, [growes, Can chaunge my cheare, or make me ever The flowrs, the fields, and all that pleasaunt [bourne.' How they them selves doe thine ensample make, My little boat can safely passe this perilous Whiles nothing envious nature them forth

mourne:

XI

throwes

Out of her fruitfull lap; how no man knowes. Whiles thus she talked, and whiles thus she They spring, they bud, they blossome fresh toyd,

and faire,

[showes;

They were far past the passage which he spake, And decke the world with their rich pompous And come unto an Island waste and voyd, Yet no man for them taketh paines or care, That floted in the midst of that great lake; Yet no man to them can his carefull paines There her small Gondelay her port did make,

compare.

Hath tracted forth some salvage beastes trade: 'O! how I burne with implacable fyre; 'Vile Miscreaunt,' (said he) whither dost thou Yet nought can quench mine inly flaming sy de, flye [invade? Nor sea of licour cold, nor lake of myre: The shame and death, which will thee soone Nothing but death can doe me to respyre.' What coward hand shall doe thee next to dye, Ah! be it,' (said he) 'from Pyrochles farre That art thus fowly fledd from famous enimy ?' After pursewing death once to requyre,

Or think, that ought those puissant hands Weake handes, but counsell is most strong in

Death is for wretches borne under unhappy Him when the old man saw,
To see Pyrochles there so rudely rage;
Yet sithens helpe, he saw, he needed more
Then pitty, he in hast approched to the shore,