She was a Ladie of great dignitie, xxviii And lifted vp to honorable place, Famous through all the land of Faerie, Though of meane parentage and kindred base, Yet deckt with wondrous giftes of natures grace, That all men did her person much admire, And praise the feature of her goodly face, The beames whereof did kindle louely fire In th’harts of many a knight, and many a gentle squire. But she thereof grew proud and insolent, xxix That none she worthie thought to be her fere, But scornd them all, that loue vnto her ment, Yet was she lou’d of many a worthy pere, Vnworthy she to be belou’d so dere, That could not weigh of worthinesse aright. For beautie is more glorious bright and clere, The more it is admir’d of many a wight, And noblest she, that serued is of noblest knight. But this coy Damzell thought contrariwize, xxx That such proud looks would make her praysed more; And that the more she did all loue despize, The more would wretched louers her adore. What cared she, who sighed for her sore, Or who did wayle or watch the wearie night? Let them that list, their lucklesse lot deplore; She was borne free, not bound to any wight, And so would euer liue, and loue her owne delight. Through such her stubborne stifnesse, and hard hart, xxxi Many a wretch, for want of remedie, Did languish long in lifeconsuming smart, And at the last through dreary dolour die: Whylest she, the Ladie of her libertie, Did boast her beautie had such soueraine might, That with the onely twinckle of her eye, She could or saue, or spill, whom she would hight. What could the Gods doe more, but doe it more aright? But loe the Gods, that mortall follies vew, xxxii Did worthily reuenge this maydens pride; And nought regarding her so goodly hew, Did laugh at her, that many did deride, Whilest she did weepe, of no man mercifide. For on a day, when _Cupid_ kept his court, As he is wont at each Saint Valentide, Vnto the which all louers doe resort, That of their loues successe they there may make report;[510] It fortun’d then, that when the roules[511] were red, xxxiii In which the names of all loues folke were fyled, That many there were missing, which were ded, Or kept in bands, or from their loues exyled, Or by some other violence despoyled. Which when as _Cupid_ heard, he wexed wroth, And doubting to be wronged, or beguyled, He bad his eyes to be vnblindfold both, That he might see his men, and muster them by oth.