Xxxiv

The same to wight he never wont disclose, But when as monsters huge he would dismay, Or daunt unequall armies of his foes, Or when the flying heavens he would affray; For so exceeding shone his glistring ray, That Phoebus golden face it did attaint, As when a cloud his beames doth over-lay; And silver Cynthia° wexed pale and faint, As when her face is staynd with magicke arts constraint.