Which long concealing in her couert brest, xxvii She chaw’d the cud of louers carefull plight; Yet could it not so thoroughly digest, Being fast fixed in her wounded spright, But it tormented her both day and night: Yet would she not thereto yeeld free accord, To serue the lowly vassall of her might, And of her seruant make her souerayne Lord: So great her pride, that she such basenesse much abhord. So much the greater still her anguish grew, xxviii Through stubborne handling of her loue-sicke hart; And still the more she stroue it to subdew, The more she still augmented her owne smart, And wyder made the wound of th’hidden dart. At last when long she struggled had in vaine, She gan to stoupe, and her proud mind conuert To meeke obeysance of loues mightie raine, And him entreat for grace, that had procur’d her paine. Vnto her selfe in secret she did call xxix Her nearest handmayd, whom she most did trust, And to her said; _Clarinda_ whom of all I trust a liue, sith I thee fostred first; Now is the time, that I vntimely must Thereof make tryall, in my greatest need: It is so hapned, that the heauens vniust, Spighting my happie freedome, haue agreed, To thrall my looser life, or my last bale to breed. With that she turn’d her head, as halfe abashed, xxx To hide the blush which in her visage rose, And through her eyes like sudden lightning flashed, Decking her cheeke with a vermilion rose: But soone she did her countenance compose, And to her turning, thus began againe; This griefes deepe wound I would to thee disclose, Thereto compelled through hart-murdring paine, But dread of shame my doubtfull lips doth still restraine. Ah my deare dread (said then the faithfull Mayd) xxxi Can dread of ought your dreadlesse hart withhold, That many hath with dread of death dismayd, And dare euen deathes most dreadfull face behold? Say on my souerayne Ladie, and be bold; Doth not your handmayds life at your foot lie? Therewith much comforted, she gan vnfold The cause of her conceiued maladie, As one that would confesse, yet faine would it denie. _Clarin_ (sayd she) thou seest yond Fayry Knight, xxxii Whom not my valour, but his owne braue mind Subiected hath to my vnequall might; What right is it, that he should thraldome find, For lending life to me a wretch vnkind; That for such good him recompence with ill? Therefore I cast, how I may him vnbind, And by his freedome get his free goodwill; Yet so, as bound to me he may continue still.