X.

But if that life ye unto me decree,

Then let me live, as Lovers ought to do,
And of my lifes dear Love beloved be:

And if he should through pride your doom undo,
Do you by duress him compell thereto,
And in this prifon put him here with me:
One prifon fitteft is to hold us two:

So had I rather to be thrall than free;
Such thraldom or fuch freedom let it furely be.
XI.

But O vain judgment, and conditions vain,
The which the prifoner points unto the free!
The whiles I him condemn, and deem his pain,
He where he lift goes loofe, and laughs at me.
So ever loofe, so ever happy be.

But wherefo loofe or happy that thou art,
Know Marinell that all this is for thee.

With that the wept and wail'd as if her heart [fmart. Would quite have burst through great abundance of her XII.

All which complaint when Marinell had heard,
And understood the caufe of all her care
To come of him for ufing her fo hard,
His stubborn heart, that never felt misfare,
Was toucht with foft remorfe and pity rare;
That ev'n for grief of mind he oft did groan,
And inly with, that in his powre it were
Her to redrefs: but fince he means found none,
He could no more but her great mifery bemone.
XIII.

Thus whilft his ftony heart with tender ruth,
Was toucht, and mighty courage mollifide,
Dame Venus fon that tameth stubborn youth
With iron bit, and maketh him abide,
Till like a victor on his back he ride,
Into his mouth his mayftring bridle threw,
That made him ftoop, till he did him beftride:
Then 'gan he make him tread his fteps anew,
And learn to love, by learning lovers pains to rew.

XIV.

Now 'gan he in his grieved mind devife,

How from that dungeon he might her enlarge; Some while he thought, by fair and humble wife To Proteus felf to fue for her discharge: But then he fear'd his mothers former charge 'Gainft womens love, long given him in vain. Then 'gan he think, perforce with fword and targe Her forth to fetch, and Proteus to constrain: But foon he 'gan fuch folly to forethink again. XV.

Then did he caft to fteal her thence away,

And with him bear, where none of her might know, But all in vain: for why he found no way

To enter in, or iffue forth below;

For all about that rock the fea did flow.
And though unto his will fhe given were,
Yet without ship or boat her thence to row,
He wift not how, her thence away to bear;
And danger well he wift long to continue there.
XVI.

At last, whenas no means he could invent,
Back to himself he 'gan return the blame,
That was the author of her punishment;
And with vile curfes, and reproachful shame
To damn himself by every evil name,
And deem unworthy or of love or life,
That had defpis'd fo chafte and fair a Dame,
Which him had fought through trouble and long ftrife;
Yet had refus'd a God that her had fought to wife.
XVII.

In this fad plight he walked here and there,
And roamed round about the rock in vain,
As he had loft himself,, he wift not where ;
Oft liftening if he mote her hear again;
And still bemoaning her unworthy pain:
Like as an Hind whofe calf is faln unwares
Into fome pit, where fhe him hears complain,
An hundred times about the pit fide fares,
Right forrowfully mourning her bereaved cares.

XVIII.

And now by this, the feaft was throughly ended,
And every one 'gan homeward to refort:
Which feeing, Marinell was fore offended,
That his departure thence fhould be fo fhort,
And leave his Love in that fea-walled fort,
Yet durft he not his mother disobey;
But her attending in full feemly fort,
Did march amongst the many all the way:
And all the way did inly mourn like one aftray.
XIX.

Being returned to his mothers bowre,
In folitary filence far from wight,

He 'gan record the lamentable ftowre,

In which his wretched Love lay day and night,
For his dear fake, that ill deferv'd that plight:
The thought whereof empierft his heart fo deep,
That of no worldly thing he took delight;
Ne daily food did take, ne nightly fleep,

But pin'd, and mourn'd, and languifht, and alone did weep.
XX.

That in fhort space his wonted chearful hue
'Gan fade, and lively fpirits deaded quight:
His cheek-bones raw, and eye-pits hollow grew,
And brawny arms had loft their knowen might,
That nothing like himself he feem'd in fight.
Ere long, fo weak of limb, and fick of love
He wox, that longer he n'ote stand upright,
But to his bed was brought, and laid above,
Like rueful ghoft, unable once to ftir or move.
XXI.

Which when his mother faw, fhe in her mind
Was troubled fore, ne wift well what to ween.
Ne could by fearch nor any means outfind
The fecret caufe and nature of his teen,
Whereby the might apply fome medicine;
But weeping day and night did him attend,
And mourn'd to fee her lofs before her eyn:
Which griev'd her more, that she it could not mend;
To fee an helplefs evil double grief doth lend.

XXII.

Nought could fhe read the root of his disease,
Ne ween what mifter malady it is,

Whereby to feek fome means it to appease.
Moft did fhe think, but moft fhe thought amifs,
That that fame former fatal wound of his
Whylear by Tryphon was not throughly heal'd,
But clofely rankled under th'orifice:

Least did the think, that which he most conceal'd, That Love it was, which in his heart lay unreveal'd. XXIII.

Therefore to Tryphon fhe again doth haste,

And him doth chide as falfe and fraudulent,
That fail'd the truft which fhe in him had plaste,
To cure her fon, as he his faith had lent:
Who now was faln into new languishment
Of his old hurt, which was not throughly cur'd.
So back he came unto her patient;

Where fearching every part, her well affur'd,
That it was no old fore, which his new pain procur'd.
XXIV.

But that it was fome other malady,

Or grief unknown, which he could not difcern:
So left he her withouten remedy.

Then 'gan her heart to faint, and quake, and yern,
And inly troubled was the truth to learn.
Unto himself fhe came, and him befought,
Now with fair fpeeches, now with threatnings ftern,
If ought lay hidden in his grieved thought,
It to reveal: who ftill her anfwer'd, there was nought.
XXV.

Nath'lefs, fhe refted not fo fatisfide:

But leaving watry Gods, as booting nought,
Unto the fhiny heaven in haste she hide,
And thence Apollo King of Leaches brought.
Apollo came; who foon as he had fought
Through his difeafe, did by and by outfind,
That he did languifh of fome inward thought,
The which afflicted his engrieved mind;

Which Love he read to be, that leads each living kind.

XXVI.

Which when he had unto his mother told,
She 'gan thereat to fret, and greatly grieve.
And coming to her fon, 'gan first to fcold,
And chide at him that made her misbelieve:
But afterwards the 'gan him foft to shrieve,
And wooe with fair intreaty, to disclose

Which of the Nymphs his heart fo fore did mieve. For fure the ween'd it was fome one of thofe, Which he had lately feen, that for his Love he chose. XXVII.

Now lefs fhe feared that fame fatal read,

That warned him of womens love beware;
Which being meant of mortal creatures feed,
For love of Nymphs fhe thought fhe need not care,
But promist him whatever wight fhe were,
That the her love to him would shortly gain.
So he her told: but foon as fhe did hear
That Florimell it was which wrought his pain,
She 'gan afresh to chafe, and grieve in every vain.
XXVIII.

Yet fince fhe faw the ftreight extremity,
In which his life unluckily was laid,
It was no time to fcan the prophesy,
Whether old Proteus true or falfe had faid,
That his decay fhould happen by a maid.
It's late, in death, of danger to advise,
Or love forbid him, that is life denay'd:
But rather 'gan in troubled mind devife,
How the that Ladies liberty might enterprise.
XXIX.

To Proteus felf to fue, fhe thought it vain,
Who was the root and worker of her woe:
Nor unto any meaner to complain,
But unto great King Neptune felf did go,
And on her knee before him falling low,
Made humble fuit unto his Majefty

To grant to her, her fons life, which his foe
A cruel tyrant had prefumptuously

By wicked doom condemn'd, a wretched death to dye.