85
Of whom he meanes his bloudie feast to make,
A Lyon spyes fast running towards him,
The innocent pray in hast he does forsake,
Which quit from death yet quakes in every lim
With chaunge of feare,[*] to see the Lyon looke so grim. 90

XI

Such fearefull fit assaid her trembling hart,
Ne word to speake, ne joynt to move she had:
The salvage nation feele her secret smart,
And read her sorrow in her count'nance sad;
Their frowning forheads with rough hornes yclad, 95
And rustick horror[*] all a side doe lay;
And gently grenning, show a semblance glad
To comfort her, and feare to put away,
Their backward bent knees[*] teach her humbly to obay.

XII

The doubtfull Damzell dare not yet commit 100
Her single person to their barbarous truth;[*]
But still twixt feare and hope amazd does sit,
Late learnd[*] what harme to hasty trust ensu'th:
They in compassion of her tender youth,
And wonder of her beautie soveraine, 105
Are wonne with pitty and unwonted ruth,
And all prostrate upon the lowly plaine,
Do kisse her feete, and fawne on her with count'nance faine.

XIII

Their harts she ghesseth by their humble guise,
And yieldes her to extremitie of time; 110
So from the ground she fearlesse doth arise,
And walketh forth without suspect of crime:[*]
They all as glad, as birdes of joyous Prime,
Thence lead her forth, about her dauncing round,
Shouting, and singing all a shepheards ryme, 115
And with greene braunches strowing all the ground,
Do worship her, as Queene, with olive[*] girlond cround.

XIV

And all the way their merry pipes they sound,
That all the woods with doubled Eccho ring,
And with their horned feet[*] do weare the ground, 120
Leaping like wanton kids in pleasant Spring.
So towards old Sylvanus they her bring;
Who with the noyse awaked commeth out
To weet the cause, his weake steps governing,
And aged limbs on Cypresse stadle stout; 125
And with an yvie twyne his wast is girt about.

XV

Far off he wonders, what them makes so glad,
Or Bacchus merry fruit[*] they did invent,
Or Cybeles franticke rites[*] have made them mad,
They drawing nigh, unto the