Yet nathemore his meaning she ared, xiv But wondred much at his so selcouth case, And by his persons secret seemlyhed Well weend, that he had beene some man of place, Before misfortune did his hew deface: That being mou’d with ruth she thus bespake. Ah wofull man, what heauens hard disgrace, Or wrath of cruell wight on thee ywrake? Or selfe disliked life doth thee thus wretched make? If heauen, then none may it redresse or blame, xv Sith to his powre we all are subiect borne: If wrathfull wight, then fowle rebuke and shame Be theirs, that haue so cruell thee forlorne; But if through inward griefe or wilfull scorne Of life it be, then better doe aduise[142]. For he whose daies in wilfull woe are worne, The grace of his Creator doth despise, That will not vse his gifts for thanklesse nigardise. When so he heard her say, eftsoones he brake xvi His sodaine silence, which he long had pent, And sighing inly deepe, her thus bespake; Then haue they all themselues against me bent: For heauen, first author of my languishment, Enuying my too great felicity, Did closely with a cruell one consent, To cloud my daies in dolefull[143] misery, And make me loath this life, still longing for to die. Ne any but your selfe, O dearest dred, xvii Hath done this wrong, to wreake on worthlesse wight Your high displesure, through misdeeming bred: That when your pleasure is to deeme aright, Ye may redresse, and me restore to light. Which sory words her mightie hart did mate With mild regard, to see his ruefull plight, That her inburning wrath she gan abate, And him receiu’d againe to former fauours state. In which he long time afterwards did lead xviii An happie life with grace and good accord, Fearlesse of fortunes chaunge or enuies dread, And eke all mindlesse of his owne deare Lord The noble Prince, who neuer heard one word Of tydings, what did vnto him betide, Or what good fortune did to him afford, But through the endlesse world did wander wide, Him seeking euermore, yet no where him descride. Till on a day as through that wood he rode, xix He chaunst to come where those two Ladies late, _Æmylia_ and _Amoret_ abode, Both in full sad and sorrowfull estate; The one right feeble through the euill rate Of food, which in her duresse she had found: The other almost dead and desperate Through her late hurts, and through that haplesse wound, With which the Squire in her defence her sore astound.