Xxxi

Therewith a piteous yelling voyce was heard, Crying, O spare with guilty hands° to teare My tender sides in this rough rynd embard, But fly, ah fly far hence away, for feare Least to you hap, that happened to me heare, And to this wretched Lady, my deare love, O too deare love, love bought with death too deare. Astond he stood, and up his haire did hove, And with that suddein horror could no member move.