Eternall prouidence exceeding thought, vii Where none appeares can make her selfe a way: A wondrous way it for this Lady wrought, From Lyons clawes to pluck the griped pray. Her shrill outcryes and shriekes so loud did bray, That all the woodes and forestes did resownd; A troupe of _Faunes_ and _Satyres_ far away Within the wood were dauncing in a rownd, Whiles old _Syluanus_ slept in shady arber sownd. Who when they heard that pitteous strained voice, viii In hast forsooke their rurall meriment, And ran towards the far rebownded noyce, To weet, what wight so loudly did lament. Vnto the place they come incontinent: Whom when the raging Sarazin espide, A rude, misshapen[211], monstrous rablement, Whose like he neuer saw, he durst not bide, But got his ready steed, and fast away gan ride. The wyld woodgods arriued in the place, ix There find the virgin dolefull[212] desolate, With ruffled rayments, and faire blubbred face, As her outrageous foe had left her late, And trembling yet through feare of former hate; All stand amazed at so vncouth sight, And gin to pittie her vnhappie state, All stand astonied at her beautie bright, In their rude eyes vnworthie of so wofull plight. She more amaz’d, in double dread doth dwell; x And euery tender part for feare does shake: As when a greedie Wolfe through hunger[213] fell A seely Lambe farre from the flocke does take, Of whom he meanes his bloudie feast to make, A Lyon spyes fast running towards him, The innocent pray in hast he does forsake, Which quit from death yet quakes in euery lim With chaunge of feare, to see the Lyon looke so grim. Such fearefull fit assaid her trembling hart, xi Ne word to speake, ne ioynt to moue she had: The saluage nation feele her secret smart, And read her sorrow in her count’nance sad; Their frowning forheads with rough hornes yclad, And rusticke horror all a side doe lay, And gently grenning, shew a semblance glad To comfort her, and feare to put away, Their backward bent knees teach her humbly to obay. The doubtfull Damzell dare not yet commit xii Her single person to their barbarous truth, But still twixt feare and hope amazd does sit, Late learnd what harme to hastie trust ensu’th, They in compassion of her tender youth, And wonder of her beautie soueraine, Are wonne with pitty and vnwonted ruth, And all prostrate vpon the lowly plaine, Do kisse her feete, and fawne on her with count’nance faine.