All cleane dismayd to see so uncouth sight,
And half enraged at her shamelesse guise,
He thought have slaine her in his fierce despight:
But hasty heat tempring with suffrance wise, 445
He stayde his hand, and gan himselfe advise
To prove his sense,° and tempt her faigned truth.
Wringing her hands in womans pitteous wise,
Tho can she weepe,° to stirre up gentle ruth,
Both for her noble bloud, and for her tender youth. 450

LI

And said, Ah Sir, my liege Lord and my love,
Shall I accuse the hidden cruell fate,
And mightie causes wrought in heaven above,
Or the blind God,° that doth me thus amate,
For hoped love to winne me certaine hate? 455
Yet thus perforce he bids me do, or die.
Die is my dew; yet rew my wretched state
You, whom my hard avenging destinie
Hath made judge of my life or death indifferently.

LII

Your owne deare sake forst me at first to leave 460
My Fathers kingdome--There she stopt with teares;
Her swollen hart her speech seemd to bereave,
And then againe begun; My weaker yeares
Captiv'd to fortune and frayle worldly feares,
Fly to your fayth for succour and sure ayde: 465