Xxxiii

So on a day when Satyres all were gone To do their service to Sylvanus old, The gentle virgin left behind alone He led away with courage stout and bold. Too late it was, to Satyres to be told, Or ever hope recover her againe: In vaine he seekes that having cannot hold. So fast he carried her with carefull paine, That they the woods are past, and come now to the plaine.