Iv

Forthwith he runnes with feigned faithfull hast Unto his guest, who after troublous sights And dreames, gan now to take more sound repast, Whom suddenly he wakes with fearfull frights, As one aghast with feends or damned sprights, And to him cals, Rise, rise, unhappy Swaine That here wex old in sleepe, whiles wicked wights Have knit themselves in Venus shameful chaine, Come see where your false Lady doth her honour staine.