117FAire was the morne, when the faire Queene of loue,
118Paler for
sorrow then her milke white Doue,
119For Adons
sake, a young
ster proud and wilde,
120Her
stand
she takes vpon a
steepe vp hill.
121Anon Adonis comes with horne and hounds,
123She
silly Queene, with more then loues good will,
124Forbad the boy he
should not pa
sse tho
se grounds,
125Once (quoth
she) did I
see a faire
sweet youth
126Here in the
se brakes, deepe wounded with a Boare,
127Deepe in the thigh a
spe
ctacle of ruth,
128Soe in my thigh (quoth
she) here was the
sore,
129 She
shewed hers, he
saw more wounds then one,
130 And blu
shing
fled, and left her all alone.
B 3