The sixteenth canto opens with Vodina's deliberations; she prefers "Pelympus" to Dorio, but fears that he will continue to reject her; singing to her lute, she is attended by a choir of birds. When Penardo appears in the bower she confesses her passion, to which he replies, "I will not hait and yet I most not love | Mars doth my hert from Cupid far remove" Sig. P1v. At this Vodina plunges a dagger into her breast, and Penardo faints at the pitiable sight. Dorio discovers them together, and driven by jealousy places Penardo's dagger in Vodina's wound. Penardo is thrown in prison, where in a doleful lyric he declares that Philena would never have treated him so.
For his part, Dorio asserts that he had seen Penardo attempting to rape Vodina, who, dying, had declared her love for him; at this the king of Hungary declares that Penardo is to be burned alive. An angel appears, telling Penardo that he is to avoid Philena and submit to fate. As the execution is about to be carried out, a strange warrior appears, declaring that it was he and not Penardo who had attempted to force Vodina. The prisoner is then released, and the stranger bound in his place. Penardo frees him from the stake, and the pair raise terrible havoc among the Hungarians before retreating into the forest under cover of darkness.
Vodina shoes her love but He
Fayning base birth refusde
She kills her self and Doria him
As Murderer accusde
From prisone long hes brought at last
To burne, but heavns Revenger
A stranger sends that him redeems
And he redeems the Straunger.
Whill Prince Penardo heir unknowne abyds
Under the title of Pelympus still
Inconstant fortune all her favor hyds
And turns her smylls to frouns her good to ill
O wordlie pomp: O glorie vane: O fame
A waisting lampe A shaddow and A dreame.
Long stayt he heir lov'd praist admeird of all
Of Dorio disdaind invy'd and feard
But poore Vodinas feidle was made thrall
By Tyrane love love sow'd love reapt love ear'd
All place to her was loathsum day and night
Except the brave Pelympus wer in sight.
And whil she wakes his sight her love augments
But oft in sleip sad visiones frights her mynd
In sleep he sad and frowning him presents
Unthankfull coy disdainfull prowd unkynd
And death in thousand formes he showes in hate
The presage true of her ensueing fate.
When she awaks she calls him too unkynd
Tears droune her eyes, and sighes o'reflowe her hair,
Yet oft she wisht that he hade knowne her mynd,
Love bids her use some meins love to impairt:
But shame forbids her modesty to pas
Tuix Love and shame a crewell warre their was.
Shame sayes a simple Virgine and a Mayde
Should chastlie love and modestlye desyre
And of audatious words should be afrayde
From love propon'd should shune and thence retyre
For Mayds that heir and forts that parly lowd
Mak both the lover and the foe grow prow'd.
Much more if thow propone will he disdaine
Thy wanton formes and thy immodest love
The glorious name of Virgins shall thow stain
And Maydinhoode a heavie load shall prove
Love by refusall lives but profert dyes
A woman conqueres love when love she flyes
But Love beguyl'd bothe Modestie and shame
And thus he sayd, A woman thow must be
O sirs thow not what stains a womans Name
No thing so much as Haite and Cruelty
Nature hath framd a womans hairt to yeeld
And Courtesie and love to win the feeld,
Sure he wold speek if he wer once assurde
Of such a Princes favor as thine owne
His birthe too base thy matche to have procurde
Or els long since his fansie hade yow knowne
Tho base of birthe he beirs a Monarchs mynd
Then do but speik or look and He'll be kynd.
What if some new occasione call him hence?
Then shall some other Princes win his hairt
May thow not once with modestie dispence
Befor thy love and lyfe be death should smairt
If health love ease and pleasur stayeth still
Upone a word theyr'r fools that wants their will.
What also if thy father the constraine
Prince Doreo to wed against thy will
For with another doth thy Hairt remane
Altho before thou gave consent theirtill
Pelympus O Pelympus onlie He
The sight of Doreo wer but death to ye,
Haist then to tell Pelympus that thow loves
Els he goes hence and Doreo shall the wed
But O what if the Knight disdainfull proves
O he wil not disdaine a Princes bed
Altho thy beautie could not move his mynd
Yet will the croune of Hungare mak him kynd.
Thus on new Hope begyld with love she fed
Resolveing once for to unfold her mynd
Thus argued she thus thought she in her bed
Whill Cynthia pale wan and dimlie shynd
At last heavns gett above the easterne streams
Oppins and day shoots furth his sylver beams.
With heavns bright sylver hew the Dame op rose
When Phoebus beams did guild heavne earth and sea
She in a gardine did her self repose
Alone save love that boire her companie
She thence her dames and Ladies all hade sent
Till on loves altar she pour'd furth her plaint.
Then to ane quyet arbor she reteird
Wheir long she murn'd she sighd she plain'd she prayde
She honord love, love prais'd and love admeird,
For wheir abyds true love but in a mayde:
Oft she complaind that love hade done her wrong
At last she took her Lute and thus she song.
The sensles snaik benouwd with Winters cold
With storme with frost with haill with snow with raine
If her for pitie one in breist should hold
Till cherisht lyfe with heat returne againe
Then strength and lyfe and Nature maks her bold
To reave the lyfe that did her lyfe obtaine
Of love this is the true similitude
O love the purtrat of ingratitude.
When thow was dead in winters of disdaine
And perisht quyt in dark oblivions flood
I cherist the with travell cair and paine
And thy sad death my fyrie smylls with stoode
But when my breist by heat did lyfe obtaine
Thow stingd my hairt and made my bosome bleid
Ah love how can a simple mayde offend
That this her love should bring her lyfe to end.
Love brings dispair dispair brings death and hell
Some say that musick oft proud love withstoode
But O how can thy hairt in pleasure seall
When as thy verie soule is dround in blood
Yet pray perhaps thy pray'r mey love compell
But meditatione is of prayre the foode
And crewell love by meditation lives
Then evry thing Pelympus deir revives
Thus whill she playes thus whill she sweitly sings
Throw emptie aer the Queir of burds doune flye
And spred a round their soft and daintye wings
To shrow'd her whill she strains her nots on hye
And when they heir her voyce her sound her noyes
Lyik hands they clap their wings in signe of joyes.
When she hade doone about her heir and their
Some saye her song and strain her tender throts
Some laurell leavs and myrtles sweit prepair
In their sharpe beiks and then with merrie nots
Upon her head they lett the leavs doun fall
And seem to croun the Virgine their with all.
Others wold sitt and from their throats forth send
A wofull sund that seemd to move the skyes
To pitie her sad death and wofull end
Whil as the birds would straine such doolfull cryes
As who would say ah love ah beautie murne
For her whoes death your day to night does turne.
But all this tyme she mus'd upone her love
Her love her joy her pleasure her delight
Pelympus brave whoes deids did matchles prove
Non live'd lyke him in valour strength and might
Who walkt abroade that day to tak the air
Whill fate heavne chace and fortune brought him thair
She seis him come throw bushes leaves and wands
Then lyk a mabre image up she stoode
The Lute falls doune betuixt her snow white hands
And her fair eyes pow'r furth a sylver floode
Lyk deaw on roses whyt and reid that falls
Or sylver globs or pearle or cristall balls.
To wake her frome this dumpe he taks her hand
And whill he toutch'd she trembled quakd and shook
Now reid for shame then pale for fear she fand
How her fant hart his wounted roume forsooke
And upwart fled frome paine wo greif despight
True signes of suddane love or sad afright.
At last the Prince her silence thus removes
Some saye that musick does the mynd delight
But lo Madame in yow the contrare proves
Quod she in hell death horrour and despight
Who lives melodious sounds at harmefull still
And still augments but ne're remeids their il.
To the perhaps my words may seame un faitt
For basheful Mayd's or simple Virgins pure
And not agreing with my heighe estait
To sue for grace whene I should leive secure
But O quod she if I indecent prove
Not I but shameles tyraneizing love.
The ravening wolf, the simple lamb did catche,
Whom on he thought to fill, to feid, to prey,
When lo the princelie lyone did him watche,
First him he slew, then brought the lamb away,
Tho once from death he did the lamb releefe,
Afarr more crewel death he did it geve,
This wolf was Argaelantes, I the lambe,
And thow the princilie lyone made me fre
When lo thyne eyes more crewell bands did framme
And band and chain'd and link't my hairt to the,
Ah deir Pelympus, deir, too deir, it feares me,
Love shame, fear, hait, in thousand peicees tears me,
Thow stole my hairt out throw my besome poure,
But, O, sweit stelth, sweit theef, I pardone the,
Myne eyes thow took and did their ayde procure
And thus I help't to steill my self to the
Deip sobs and tears, heir stayd hir wofull speche
And with dumbe signes his pitie did beseeche,
But all this tyme the Prince look't doune to ground
Rueth, reaslone, pitie, wo, amaizement bred
Yet in his besome love no place hade founde
But myldest pitie hade so far him led,
That hardlie he from yeilding was refraind
Yet thus he answers, and from love restraind,
Madame (quod he) your luckles love I rew
And would it mend if with my life it stood
Too base my birthe fair Princes is for yow
My woorth too small to equaleize your blood
I will not hait and yet I most not love
Mars doth my hert from Cupid far remove.
Then dryve those fonde affections frome your mynd
Let your wyse hairt calme love and leve secure
Love is a monster, furius ferc and blynd
And I'm an errant Knight base woorthles poore
I'le serve yow still if yow but love forbeir
In joy in greif in confort hope in feir.
Forbeir quod she and must I then forbeir?
O? mad misluck O? love O? chaunce O Fate!
O, love, O, torment great? O, greif? o fear!
O? plague of plagues! O, desperat deceat!
O sting, O deadlie Poysione of the hairt
O hell of mightie mynds O death O smairt?
Forbeir to love O, word of sad disgrace
The task begune by love must love not end?
Natur had fram'd the fair and sweet alace
But the a crewell Tygers mynd did send
O crewell nature man, O man to crewell
To foule a blot to staine so fair a Jewell.
And love forbeir alace that word forbeir
O sad decrie O sentence of my death
O torment of my soule, from verteus spheir
Could suche disdane and loathsum hait tak breth
Thou loves to live in scorn of love and me
I live to love, and looth'd, for love must die.
And now alace the houre approched nye
When her sweet lyfe that sweet sweet hold must leave
She drawes a knyfe which hange low be her thie
And tuix her breist's a flood-gat up she reave
Wheir pitie love and beautie long with stoode
The fatall knyfe the lyfe the vitall-bloode.
From him she turn'd her face and did this fact
Then turns and say's without a shrink or paine
Receave this solemne sacrafeize I mak
Upone the altare of thy heighe disdaine
Deir sweet receave my hairt my lyfe my love
My Virgine soule, Fairweell I must remove.
And now the starre light of her eyes grew dimme
Her fair sweet face upone her shoulder fell
In her paill looks sad pitie lookt on him
Her trembling kneis grew weak and doun she fell
Lyik ane fair floure pure beautifull and young
By frost new slaine youth had but newly sprung
Evne as discoloured opell's change and turne
The whyte now wan now pale heir reid their blew
Her lovelye whyte grew pale and seem'd to murne
The reid in spot's did change to azure hew
The Sune grew dimme and smylling heav'ns did lour
The cloud's did murne and floods of tears doun powre,
The Prince that saw both lyfe and soule was gone
His mightie mynd began for to relent
His syght his speeche his sense him left a none
Woe sorow cair greif sadnes discontent
His lyfe and breath clos'd in his hairt withall
Pale cold and dead he on her breist did fall.
Thow lyes Penardo dead upoune the ground
Whom myghtie armies could not overthrow
Nor losse of blood nor many grevous wound
Could mak the shrink or flie or yeeld or bow
Altho she dyed for love and for thy hait
Yet should thow not be blam'd bot crewell fate.
But Fortune wold extinguish and put out
His shynning lampe of conquest prais and fame
For Doreo that long hade sought them out
With jelousie and love despight and shame
Was thither led whene he this sight did vew
Bothe joy and greif dispair and hait ensue,
Joyfull he was to sie Pelympus dead
But deadlie wofull for his mistres deir
Tuix contrar passiones finds he no remead
At last revenge on his dead corpes he sweir
That wheir before he was renound and praisde
His infamie to heavne should now be rais'd.
The fatall knyfe which in her brest he spyed
He pulls away and putt's into the place
The Princes dagger, then alowd he eryede
Ah treassone tresson ah wo wo alace
Whoes dreidfull noyes throw all the palace ring's
And thither Lords Knights Erles and Barones brings.
When they had hard and sein this wofull sight
Their come the King the Quene the Ladyes all
Great was their cair their angwish their despight
They weep they murne they sigh they cry they cal
That roks wodes montanes sound furth sad dispair
Whoes Echos fill the earthe and emptie aer.
Yet some more ware and wyse perseavit the Prince
Not dead but falne a soune the whiche thy tell
In chains in cord's in gyves they brought him thence
Unto a dungeone deep and dark lyk Hell
When he reveiv'd and fand him self in chains
He woundred muche at last he thus complains.
PENARDO HIS COMPLAINT.
What? do I live quod He
And speek and sie and breath?
Whoes damned soule the heavn's abhors
And skornes to geve me death
And of that guerdone due
For sine they me depryve
Till I should daylie leive and die
Ten thousand deaths alyve
Come death teir furth my hairt
My too too crewell hairt
That of my love more then deserv'd
Did skorne she should have pairt
But death sence thow art usde
Poore virgins lyfes to tak
Thow pities so to ease my paine
Since hell abhors my fact
Yow fearfull monstres all
Yow feends yow furies felt
Yow Centaurs Harpy's Hydra's foull
Yow Gorgons grim of Hell
Come Plutos damned Ghosts
Come all since death delayes
With legiouns of your greislie troups
I'le feght and end my dayes
But O yow fear to veiu
Worse then your selfs can be
Mo torments in my soule abyde
Then yow in Hell can see
Faine would I flie my self
Becaus my self I fear
For still my self within my self
A thousand Hells doth beir
But wheir O wheir is she
Wheir is that Angell fair
With whom abod al grace al good
Al love al beauty rair
Ah thryce unhappie Me
Ah my disdane had pow're
To reave the Heavn's thair Darling deir
And earthe her fairest flour
My haples slouth before
Bereft a Virgins breath
And now disdane my mad disdane
Ane other brought to death
Why stay't I not alace
With fair Philena still
She would have geven me due rewarde
And hade preveind this ill
O fantasyes! O dreams!
O foolish visiones! O
Why gave I credit unto yow
That twyce hes wroght my woe?
But wofull monstre I
Of luckles love alace
That still must leive in endles paine
Least death my sorowes chace.
Thus in this agoneizing greif he lay
Long in this doungeone filthie deep and dark
Fast bound in chains nor saw he sight of day
And still bewaild his lyfe his chance his wrak
And this his murning wo greif sorow care
Turn'd unto madnes oft and oft dispair.
But all this tyme great wo great paine great greife
Prince Doreo took for his deir Ladies death
And still his mynd was bent on heighe mischeefe
He sought revenge with furie raige and wraith
For in his craft his malice his despight
This vitious wrong he wrought that valiant Knight.
Whill to this gardyne I did walk (he sayd)
I harde a sound a voyce a call a cry
Ah Heavns preserve me let me die a Mayde
Thither I ranne but when I come hard by
The Murderer me saw and faind he fainted
And fell as lyfe breath sense and soule he wanted,
I litle caird his feir his fate his fall
But to the Ladie rann whom soone I knew
I cryd and in my wofull airmes withall
I took her up but gone was her fair hew
I cald her once once lookt she in my face
Once spak this word ah wofull word alace.
Into her fair and yvorie breist abaid
The instrument of that fearce tyranes wraith
I puld it furthe and their with all she said
Thow come to lait for to prevent my death
Her hand I gote fairweell she wold have sayde
Wheirof but (fair) her laister breath furth-layde,
These speeches spak Prince Doreo and with all
So wo begone and sorowfull he sem'd
Oft stopd by sighes and oft would tears doun fall
That evry one him prais'd and much esteem'd
And then the King in wraith revenge and ire
Commands Pelympus should be brint in fyre.
The night before this wofull Prince should dye
For her he murnes on her he calls he cryes
So does the lap-wing when some Sheiphird by
Her brood bereaves all day all night she flies
And weips and calls yet sleips or night be past
So weeps the Prince and so he sleeps at last.
And in his sleep the Angell did appeir
That wairn'd him from Philena for to flie
And lookt on him with fearce and angrie cheir
Saying Penardo O Penardo sie
Joves wraith prononced if thow not soone repent
Thy wicked thoughts thy words and thy complaine.
Thow doest refuse his help his grace his ayde
Thow still rebells gainst mightie Joves decree
Thy greif at Hells wyde mouth thy Soule has layde
O wratche O man from sinne refraine or die
O sie behold thy plaints and Joves heighe wraith
Leids the to paine to hell to endles death,
Thy visiones come from heavns and not from hell
Why temps thow then heighe heavne with plaints and tears
He hes decreit what e're to the befell
Do then what he ordains leave greifs and fears
Evne of thy good he maks thy self the meins
But thow his goodnes grace and love preveins.
Vodinas blood on her owne head shall fall
A just rewaird for her unjust desyre
For her owne sinne and her forefathers all
That race in her must end their prowd empyre
Nor in thy love no intrest hade ye Dame
Ane other of more woorth shall win the same
Who shall preserve thy lyfe ere it be long
Flie not heavns joy heavns peace but heavne obey
This sayd his face lyk lightning beam's outflong
That fild the house with glorius glistring ray
Which doone the Angell thence him self convoyes
And left him fild with conforts hops and joyes.
Then joyfull he awaks and watis the houre
Of lyfe or death as mightie Jove thought meit
No plaints but prayers did the Prince furthe powre
Upone the altar of repentance sweitt
And still he sighd he murn'd he plaind he prayde
To God for grace for help releefe and ayde.
Now come the tyme wheirin this crewell King
Would execute his vengeance on the Knight
Furth to be brint with fyre they did him bring
When lo a wearyour bold approcht their sight
In airmour cled it seem'd dreid warre he brought
He finds the King whom throw the thronge he sought
And sayde Sir King perhaps my comeing may
Dismay yow much yet i'le the trueth unfold,
And what my giltie conscience bids me say
That none yow wrong as now it seems yow wold
I beir the hand that wrought your Daughters fate
Yone Knight to save her came, but came too laitt.
Fearce Argalantes was my uncle deir
Whoes blood for to revenge, I thither came
Long waited I into this forrest neir
That yoynes unto your Park your Gardines framne
And disper at my wisht revenge to work
At last into that gardine did I lurk.
When bright Apollo gilted had the sky
Vodina by misfortune come within
The arbor wheir I secreitlie did ly
And would have fled agane but could not win
I took her wold have forcd her gainst her will
But she dny't whom I in raige did kill.
Her laittest grones yone Knight whom kill yow wold
Hade harde and come to sie I fled be twein
The Parks and Gardenes to the forrest old
The way I come unhard unmarkd unseene
Euer since within the forrest did I stray
Nor out from thence could ever find the waye.
And still her gost unto me does repair
And still presents Hells torments to my mynd
And still the greislie feinds throw trubled aer
Sounds furthe the pains my wofull soule should fynd
In thousand formes her murdred ghoste before me
Appeirs; and hell still gaipes for to devore Me.
This day agane she did her self present
Commanding me to the the trueth to sho
Ane other giltles lyfe for to prevent
Els I tormented should in endles woe
This is the caus that I my death desyir
Then set him frie and leid me to the fyre.
All that this warryour hard wer much amaizd
And look't and mus'de and gaizd and silent stoode
Thought pitie in the King was never rais'd
Yet sham'd he was to wrongd a Knight so goode
And causd to lowse unbind and set him frie
And armour horse and all restoird to be.
How soone his horse and armour he receavd
They charg'd him to depairt the court and flie
But nobly for to dye was all he crav'd
For to revenge his wrong his infamie
Yet knew not who with death his lyfe wold by
But also sweir him to releeve or dy,
Whom they had tyed with cords and with a chaine
Had bound him to a staik his armour on
So he desyrt and so he did obtaine
In armour thus to burne and burne alone
O kyndnes true that feare of death remove
O praise O vertue great O wondrous love.
To sie that sight amaizd Penardo stoode
His breist begane to swell with raige wraith ire
Pitie drew from his eyes of tears a floode
Wraith pitie helpt, pitie blew angers fyre
And thus his wraith his pitie ire and wo
Brought suddane warre and suddane conquest lo,
Heir love heir proud ambitioune man'd the feild
And still contend's who most governs the mynde
Love caus'd the stranger to the fyre to yeeld
Evne love of Prince Penardo most unkynd
Who rewld by proud ambitione skornd to be
Ore matchd in ought and cheiflie courtesye.
He feghts alone amongst a thousand foes
And all of them defyes and onerthrew
All whom he fand; to ground with mightie bloes
And still his wraith still his revenge renew
Nor gave them leave to pray to plaine to call
Suche haist he made to kill to murder all.
Some at his dreidfull angrie look affray'd
Fled heir and their and some in heaps doune fell
Those that withstoode slaine on the earth wer layde
And those who leaving could not him repell
With their dead bodies rais'd a wall a none
And thus gainstoode when other means wer gone.
But he but ledder skalled or engyne
Martchd proudlie o're those walls and fortres strong
And wold display his sheild for ansigne fyne
And tosse his flamming sword his foes among
Till he unto that dreedfull fyre was come
Some fear'd some fell all fled to give him roume.
That amorous Knight that to the staik was tyed
Beholding his strainge deads and wonders strainge
Brek all his bands and through the fyre he hyed
Whoes threatning sword did thrist for dreid revenge
Not that he cair'd his lyfe or feard ye fyre
But for to ayde or dye was his desyre.
Be this the King Prince Doreo hade sent
With him his guarde for to chasteize their pryde
Him self reteir'd that mischeef to prevent
He feard some secreitt treasone their t' abyde
This armed band and Doreo now assaild
These warryours stout but nothing yet prevaild.
More deadlie then more crewell grew the fray
The Prince and his Companione bak to bak
Such valoure shew such wounders wrought that day
And with such courage did such havok mak
As Eggles Haulks or ravening Wolfs that tear
The simple sheep or sillie fowles that fear.
Those warryours tuo stout hardy fearce and bold
Wold thus asswage their hunger quensh their thirst
With bodies dead in gorie blood inrold
Great was the valour of the stranger first
That sharpe revenge and vengeance sharp ordaine
Ilk blow a wound catch wound death vo and paine.
Those Champions dissevered wer againe
Eache one with warrelyk troups besett a round
And strove to tak them both but all in vaine
They beat them back and kill and fell to ground
Whose arme straitcht furthe to tak them first wold enter
He seis cutt of and darrs no further venter.
Penardo still those forces new assaild
Whom he with strenth and might still overthrew
And lykwayes still the stranger Knight prevaild
But Doreo the Prince his strenth weel knew
And theirfore to the stranger Knight he haisted
On him both ire and honor to have faisted.
That galant stranger matchles for his woorthe
Met him amid the reid blood flowing plaine
And raige bloode warre and murther breathed furthe
Eatche other stronglie hits and hitts agane
At last the stranger's airme aloft he bore.
And Doreo's heid he brak he clift he tore.
Dreid horrour fear and terrour of the sight
Made all to feir to tremble and to quak
Conquest once smeld by that brave stranger Knight
The Squadrones ranks and bands he roodly brak
Wholl trops to earth he brings he beats he beirs
So winds brinks doune the corne and rypned eer's.
As chyldren mak in pastym sport and play
Ane spaill to waft to role to tosse to flie
About their heid quick speedie nimble lay
That of one thundring spaile it seemeth thrie
So seemd the straungers sword whoes deids thy thought
Strainge wonderfull incredible wer wrought
This ramping lyoune sought Penardo out
And fand him in the mids of all his foes
Whom strong and valiant hardie bold and stout
The heaps of murdred bodies did inclose
So irk't he was and wearie their with all
Tho still he faught yet reddie stil to fal,
Their Deaths sad court deaths palace their abode
Their tropheis wer erect'd unto his name
Their lukwarme blood did smook and flow abroade
The stranger stood amaizd to sie the same
And softlie sayd O valours onlie stoir
Whence comes his wealth of conquest fame and gloir.
Now Phoebus from his glorious carre doune lyes
In Neptuns azure palace whill sad nyght
A rose maskd up and cled in dreidfull gyis
With fearfull shad's of darknes and affright
The worthie stranger to Penardo haisted
And delt so many deaths till Death was waisted.
But lo the tumulte munting in the are
Wold pers, ye clouds with plents and vofull sounds
Men wemen bairnes with furie raige dispair
Revenge and vengeans call's till heavne resounds
Now wes their daunger greatter then before
Thousands by heaps almost to earth them bore.
Yet heavn's decried their savetie thus inteir
Blak night o're all the earthe spred furth her vaill
And suche a fearfull darknes did appeir
It seem'd their was no darknes left in hell
With hands they grap't they wander and they stray
So does the blind alone that los't the way,
And thus confus'd now heir now their they rine
Penardos freind thus to him said but dreid
Sheath now thy sword leave heir thy sheild and win
Out throw this lawles multitude with speid
I'le gude the to the forrest heir but stay
Why then I go quod he show yow the way
Thus throw the throng unseene unmark't unknowne
They marche alone but feir but cair but dreid
Nor was their feirles flight to anie showen
But saiflie to the forrest come with speid
Wheir in a grove hard by a fontane syde
They rest whill light for saifer flight provyde.