So soone as Night had with her pallid hew xxviii Defast the beautie of the shining sky, And reft from men the worlds desired vew, She with her Nourse adowne to sleepe did lye; But sleepe full farre away from her did fly: In stead thereof[890] sad sighes, and sorrowes deepe Kept watch and ward about her warily, That nought she did but wayle, and often steepe Her daintie couch with teares, which closely she did weepe. And if that any drop of slombring rest xxix Did chaunce to still into her wearie spright, When feeble nature felt her selfe opprest, Streight way with dreames, and with fantasticke sight Of dreadfull things the same was put to flight, That oft out of her bed she did astart, As one with vew of ghastly feends affright: Tho gan she to renew her former smart, And thinke of that faire visage, written in her hart. One night, when she was tost with such vnrest, xxx Her aged Nurse, whose name was _Glauce_ hight, Feeling her leape out of her loathed nest, Betwixt her feeble armes her quickly keight, And downe againe in her warme bed her[891] dight; Ah my deare daughter, ah my dearest dread, What vncouth fit (said she) what euill plight Hath thee opprest, and with sad drearyhead Chaunged thy liuely cheare, and liuing made thee dead? For not of nought these suddeine ghastly feares xxxi All night afflict thy naturall repose, And all the day, when as thine equall peares Their fit disports with faire delight doe chose, Thou in dull corners doest thy selfe inclose, Ne tastest Princes pleasures, ne doest spred Abroad thy fresh youthes fairest flowre, but lose Both leafe and fruit, both too vntimely shed, As one in wilfull bale for euer buried. The time, that mortall men their weary cares xxxii Do lay away, and all wilde beastes do rest, And euery riuer eke his course forbeares,[892] Then doth this wicked euill thee infest, And riue with thousand throbs thy thrilled brest; Like an huge _Aetn’_ of deepe engulfed griefe, Sorrow is heaped in thy hollow chest, Whence forth it breakes in sighes and anguish rife, As smoke and sulphure mingled with confused strife. Aye me, how much I feare, least loue it bee; xxxiii But if that loue it be, as sure I read By knowen signes and passions, which I see, Be it worthy of thy race and royall sead, Then I auow by this most sacred head Of my deare foster child, to ease thy griefe, And win thy will: Therefore away doe dread; For death nor daunger from thy dew reliefe Shall me debarre, tell me therefore my liefest liefe.