And whilft he flept, the over him would fpred
Her mantle, colour'd like the starry skyes,
And her foft arme lay underneath his hed,
And with ambrofiall kiffes bathe his eyes;
And whilft he bath'd, with her two crafty spyes
She fecretly would search each daintie lim,
And throw into the well sweet rosemaryes,
And fragrant violets, and paunces trim;

And ever with sweet nectar fhe did sprinckle him.
XXXVII.

So did the fteale his heedeleffe hart away,
And ioyd his love in fecret unespyde;
But for the faw him bent to cruell play,
To hunt the falvage beast in foreft wide,
Dreadfull of daunger that mote him betyde,
She oft and oft adviz'd him to refraine
From chafe of greater beaftes, whofe brutish pryde
Mote breed him fcath unwares: but all in vaine;
For who can fhun the chance that Dest'ny doth
ordaine?