Xlii

The divelish hag by chaunges of my cheare° Perceiv'd my thought, and drownd in sleepie night,° With wicked herbs and ointments did besmeare My body all, through charms and magicke might, That all my senses were bereaved quight: Then brought she me into this desert waste, And by my wretched lovers side me pight, Where now enclosd in wooden wals full faste, Banisht from living wights, our wearie dayes we waste.