But when as long he looked had in vaine, viii Yet saw her forward still to make her flight, His weary eie returnd to him againe, Full of discomfort and disquiet plight, That both his iuell he had lost so light, And eke his deare companion of his care. But that sweet bird departing, flew forth right Through the wide region of the wastfull aire, Vntill she came where wonned his _Belphebe_ faire. There found she her (as then it did betide) ix Sitting in couert shade of arbors sweet, After late weary toile, which she had tride In saluage chase, to rest as seem’d her meet. There she alighting, fell before her feet, And gan to her her mournfull plaint to make, As was her wont, thinking to let her weet The great tormenting griefe, that for her sake Her gentle Squire through her displeasure did pertake[139]. She her beholding with attentiue eye, x At length did marke about her purple brest That precious iuell, which she formerly Had knowne right well with colourd ribbands[140] drest: Therewith she rose in hast, and her addrest With ready hand it to haue reft away. But the swift bird obayd not her behest, But swaru’d aside, and there againe did stay; She follow’d her, and thought againe it to assay. And euer when she nigh approcht, the Doue xi Would flit a litle forward, and then stay, Till she drew neare, and then againe remoue; So tempting her still to pursue the pray, And still from her escaping soft away: Till that at length into that forrest wide, She drew her far, and led with slow delay. In th’end she her vnto that place did guide, Whereas that wofull man in languor did abide. Eftsoones she flew vnto his fearelesse hand, xii And there a piteous ditty new deuiz’d, As if she would haue made him[141] vnderstand, His sorrowes cause to be of her despis’d. Whom when she saw in wretched weedes disguiz’d, With heary glib deform’d, and meiger face, Like ghost late risen from his graue agryz’d, She knew him not, but pittied much his case, And wisht it were in her to doe him any grace. He her beholding, at her feet downe fell, xiii And kist the ground on which her sole did tread, And washt the same with water, which did well From his moist eies, and like two streames procead, Yet spake no word, whereby she might aread What mister wight he was, or what he ment, But as one daunted with her presence dread, Onely few ruefull lookes vnto her sent, As messengers of his true meaning and intent.