Like as it fell to this vnhappy boy, ii Whose tender heart the faire _Belphebe_ had[135] With one sterne looke so daunted, that no ioy In all his life, which afterwards he lad, He euer tasted, but with penaunce sad And pensiue sorrow pind and wore away, Ne euer laught, ne once shew’d countenance glad; But alwaies wept and wailed night and day, As blasted bloosme through heat doth languish and decay;[136] Till on a day, as in his wonted wise iii His doole he made, there chaunst a turtle Doue To come, where he his dolors did deuise, That likewise late had lost her dearest loue, Which losse her made like passion also proue. Who seeing his sad plight, her tender heart With deare compassion deeply did emmoue, That she gan mone his vndeserued smart, And with her dolefull accent beare with him a part. Shee sitting by him as on ground he lay, iv Her mournefull notes full piteously did frame, And thereof made a lamentable lay, So sensibly compyld, that in the same Him seemed oft he heard his owne right name. With that he forth would poure so plenteous teares, And beat his breast vnworthy of such blame, And knocke his head, and rend his rugged heares, That could haue perst[137] the hearts of Tigres and of Beares. Thus long this gentle bird to him did vse, v Withouten dread of perill to repaire Vnto his wonne, and with her mournefull muse Him to recomfort in his greatest care, That much did ease his mourning and misfare: And euery day for guerdon of her song, He part of his small feast to her would share; That at the last of all his woe and wrong Companion she became, and so continued long. Vpon a day as she him sate beside, vi By chance he certaine miniments forth drew, Which yet with him as relickes[138] did abide Of all the bounty, which _Belphebe_ threw On him, whilst goodly grace she did him shew: Amongst the rest a iewell rich he found, That was a Ruby of right perfect hew, Shap’d like a heart, yet bleeding of the wound, And with a litle golden chaine about it bound. The same he tooke, and with a riband new, vii In which his Ladies colours were, did bind About the turtles necke, that with the vew Did greatly solace his engrieued mind. All vnawares the bird, when she did find Her selfe so deckt, her nimble wings displaid, And flew away, as lightly as the wind: Which sodaine accident him much dismaid, And looking after long, did marke which way she straid.