When those accursed messengers of hell, ii That feigning dreame, and that faire-forged Spright Came to their wicked maister, and gan tell Their bootelesse paines, and ill succeeding night: Who all in rage to see his skilfull might Deluded so, gan threaten hellish paine And sad _Proserpines_ wrath, them to affright. But when he saw his threatning was but vaine, He cast about, and searcht his balefull bookes againe. Eftsoones he tooke that miscreated faire, iii And that false other Spright, on whom he spred A seeming body of the subtile aire, Like a young Squire, in loues and lusty-hed[72] His wanton dayes that euer loosely led, Without regard of armes and dreaded fight: Those two he tooke, and in a secret bed, Couered with darknesse and misdeeming night, Them both together laid, to ioy in vaine delight. Forthwith he runnes with feigned faithfull hast iv Vnto his guest, who after troublous sights And dreames, gan now to take more sound repast, Whom suddenly he wakes with fearefull frights, As one aghast with feends or damned sprights, And to him cals, Rise rise vnhappy Swaine, That here wex old in sleepe, whiles wicked wights Haue knit themselues in _Venus_ shamefull chaine; Come see, where your false Lady doth her honour[73] staine. All in amaze he suddenly vp start v With sword in hand, and with the old man went; Who soone him brought into a secret part, Where that false couple were full closely ment In wanton lust and lewd embracement[74]: Which when he saw, he burnt with gealous fire, The eye of reason was with rage yblent, And would haue slaine them in his furious ire, But hardly was restreined of that aged sire. Returning to his bed in torment great, vi And bitter anguish of his guiltie sight, He could not rest, but did his stout heart eat, And wast his inward gall with deepe despight, Yrkesome of life, and too long lingring night. At last faire _Hesperus_ in highest skie Had spent his lampe, and[75] brought forth dawning light, Then vp he rose, and clad him hastily; The Dwarfe him brought his steed: so both away do fly. Now when the rosy-fingred Morning faire, vii Weary of aged _Tithones_ saffron bed, Had spred her purple robe through deawy aire, And the high hils _Titan_ discouered, The royall virgin shooke off drowsy-hed, And rising forth out of her baser bowre, Lookt for her knight, who far away was fled, And for her Dwarfe, that wont to wait each houre; Then gan she waile and[76] weepe, to see that woefull stowre.