At which his vncouth guise and vsage quaint xlv The Prince did wonder much, yet could not ghesse The cause of that his sorrowfull constraint; Yet weend by secret signes of manlinesse, Which close appeard in that rude brutishnesse, That he whilome some gentle swaine had beene, Traind vp in feats of armes and knightlinesse; Which he obseru’d, by that he him had seene To weld[131] his naked sword, and try the edges keene. And eke by that he saw on euery tree, xlvi How he the name of one engrauen had, Which likly[132] was his liefest loue to be, For whom he now so sorely was bestad; Which was by him _BELPHEBE_ rightly rad. Yet who was that _Belphebe_, he ne wist; Yet saw he often how he wexed glad, When he it heard, and how the ground he kist, Wherein it written was, and how himselfe he blist: Tho when he long had marked his demeanor, xlvii And saw that all he said and did, was vaine, Ne ought mote make him change his wonted tenor, Ne ought mote ease or mitigate his paine, He left him there in languor to remaine, Till time for him should remedy prouide, And him restore to former grace againe. Which for it is too long here to abide, I will deferre the end vntill another tide. FOOTNOTES: [112] Arg. 4 _doole_ _1609_ [113] i 1 darts _1609_ [114] 8 launcedst _1609_ [115] iv 6 snatcht vp from the ground _1609_ [116] vi 3 reliques _1609_ [117] x 9 ore-sight _1609_ [118] xii 1 captiue _Collier &c._ [119] xiii 3 doolefull _1609_ [120] xviii 7 hither _1609_ [121] xxi 2 th’ _1609_ [122] xxii 1 Nor] For _Collier_ [123] xxv 1 Which] With _1596_ [124] xxx 3 shewed, _1596_ [125] xxxiii 1 Thenceforth _1596_ [126] xxxiv 1 sad] said _1596_ [127] xxxvi 8 faith _1596_ [128] xxxvii 8 arrowes, _1596_ [129] xxxviii 9 melancholy, _1596_ [130] xli 6 neuer _1609_ [131] xlv 9 wield _1609_ [132] xlvi 3 likely _1609_ _Cant. VIII._ [Illustration: _The gentle Squire recouers grace, Sclaunder[133] her guests doth staine: Corflambo chaseth Placidas, And is by Arthure slaine._ ] Well said the wiseman, now prou’d true by this, i Which to this gentle Squire did happen late, That the displeasure of the mighty is Then death it selfe more dread[134] and desperate. For naught the same may calme ne mitigate, Till time the tempest doe thereof delay With sufferaunce soft, which rigour can abate, And haue the sterne remembrance wypt away Of bitter thoughts, which deepe therein infixed lay.