Anon came night: and sleepe upon my carefull carcasse crope. Me thought I saw the selfesame Oke with all his boughes and twigs, And all the Pismeres creeping still upon his tawnts and sprigs, Which trembling with a sodaine brayd these Harvest folke off threw And shed them on the ground about, who on the sodaine grew In bignesse more and more, and from the earth themselves did lift: And stoode upright against the tree: and therewithall did shift Their maygernesse, and coleblacke hue, and number of their feete: And clad their limmes with shape of man. Away my sleepe did fleete. And when I wooke, misliking of my dreame I made my mone That in the Gods I did perceive but slender helpe or none. But straight much trampling up and downe and shuffling did I heare, And (which to me that present time did verie straunge appeare) Of people talking in my house me thought I heard the reare. Now while I musing on the same supposde it to have been Some fancie of the foolish dreame which lately I had seen, Behold, in comes me Telamon in hast, and thrusting ope My Chamber doore, said: Sir, a sight of things surmounting hope And credit shall you have: come forth. Forth came I by and by And even such men for all the world there standing did I spie As in my sleepe I dreamed of, and knew them for the same. They comming to me greeted me, their sovereigne Lord, by name. And I (my vowes to Jove performde) my Citie did devide Among my new inhabiters: and gave them land beside Which by decease of such as were late owners of the same Lay wast. And in remembrance of the race whereof they came, The name of Emets I them gave. Their persons you have seen: Their disposition is the same that erst in them hath been. They are a sparing kinde of folke, on labor wholy set, A gatherer, and a hoorder up of such as they doe get. These fellowes being like in yeares and courage of the minde, Shall go a warfare ny as soone as that the Easterne winde Which brought you hither luckely, (the Easterne winde was it That brought them thither) turning, to the Southerne coast doe flit. 

 With this and other such like talke they brought the day to ende. The Even in feasting, and the night in sleeping they did spende. The Sunne next Morrow in the heaven with golden beames did burne, And still the Easterne winde did blow and hold them from returne. Sir Pallas sonnes to Cephal came (for he their elder was) And he and they to Aeacus Court togither forth did passe. The King as yet was fast asleepe. Duke Phocus at the gate Did meete them, and receyved them according to their state. For Telamon and Peleus alreadie forth were gone, To muster Souldiers for the warres. So Phocus all alone Did leade them to an inner roume, where goodly Parlours were, And caused them to sit them downe. As he was also there Now sitting with them, he beheld a Dart in Cephals hand With golden head, the stele whereof he well might understand Was of some straunge and unknowne tree. When certain talke had past A while of other matters there, I am (quoth he) at last A man that hath delight in woods and loves to follow game And yet I am not able sure by any meanes to ame What wood your Javeling stele is of. Of Ash it can not bee. For then the colour should be browne. And if of Cornell tree, It would be full of knubbed knots. I know not what it is: But sure mine eies did never see a fairer Dart than this. The one of those same brethren twaine replying to him said: Nay then the speciall propertie will make you more dismaid, Than doth the beautie of this Dart. It hitteth whatsoever He throwes it at. The stroke thereof by Chaunce is ruled never. For having done his feate, it flies all bloudie backe agen Without the helpe of any hand. The Prince was earnest then To know the truth of all: as whence so riche a present came, Who gave it him, and whereupon the partie gave the same. Duke Cephal answerde his demaund in all points (one except) The which (as knowne apparantly) for shame he overlept: His beautie namely, for the which he did receive the Dart. And for the losse of his deare wife right pensive at the hart, He thus began with weeping eies: This Dart, O Goddesse sonne, (Ye ill would thinke it) makes me yirne, and long shall make me donne, If long the Gods doe give me life. This weapon hath undonne My deare beloved wife and me. O would to God this same Had never unto me bene given. There was a noble Dame That Procris hight (but you perchaunce have oftner heard the name Of great Orythia whose renowne was bruited so by fame, That blustring Boreas ravisht hir.) To this Orythia shee Was sister. If a bodie should compare in ech degree The face and natures of them both, he could none other deeme But Procris worthier of the twaine of ravishment should seeme. Hir father and our mutuall love did make us man and wife. Men said I had (and so I had in deede) a happie life. Howbeit Gods will was otherwise, for had it pleased him Of all this while, and even still yet in pleasure should I swim. The second Month that she and I by band of lawfull bed Had joynde togither bene, as I my masking Toyles did spred, To overthrow the horned Stags, the early Morning gray Then newly having chased night and gun to breake the day, From Mount Hymettus highest tops that freshly flourish ay, Espide me, and against my will conveyde me quight away. I trust the Goddesse will not be offended that I say The troth of hir. Although it would delight one to beholde Hir ruddie cheekes: although of day and night the bounds she holde: Although on juice of Ambrosie continually she feede: Yet Procris was the only Wight that I did love in deede. On Procris only was my heart: none other word had I But Procris only in my mouth: still Procris did I crie. I upned what a holy thing was wedlocke: and how late It was ago since she and I were coupled in that state. Which band (and specially so soone) it were a shame to breake. The Goddesse being moved at the words that I did speake, Said: Cease thy plaint, thou Carle, and keepe thy Procris still for me. But (if my minde deceyve me not) the time will shortly be That wish thou wilt thou had hir not. And so in anger she To Procris sent me backe againe. In going homeward as Upon the Goddesse sayings with my selfe I musing was, I gan to dreade bad measures lest my wife had made some scape. Hir youthfull yeares begarnished with beautie, grace and shape, In maner made me to beleve the deede already done. Againe hir maners did forbid mistrusting over soone. But I had bene away: but even the same from whom I came A shrewde example gave how lightly wives doe run in blame: But we poore Lovers are afraide of all things. Hereupon I thought to practise feates: which thing repented me anon: And shall repent me while I live. The purpose of my drifts Was for t'assault hir honestie with great rewards and gifts. The Morning fooding this my feare, to further my device, My shape (which thing me thought I felt) had altered with a trice. By meanes whereof anon unknowne to Pallas towne I came, And entred so my house: the house was clearely voide of blame: And shewed signes of chastitie in mourning ever sith Their maister had bene rapt away. A thousand meanes wherewith To come to Procris speach had I devisde: and scarce at last Obteinde I it. As soone as I mine eie upon hir cast, My wits were ravisht in such wise that nigh I had forgot The purposde triall of hir troth. Right much adoe God wot I had to holde mine owne that I the truth bewrayed not. To keepe my selfe from kissing hir full much adoe I had As reason was I should have done. She looked verie sad. And yet as sadly as she lookte, no Wight alive can show A better countenance than did she. Hir heart did inward glow In longing for hir absent spouse. How beautifull a face Thinke you, Sir Phocus, was in hir whome sorrow so did grace? What should I make report how oft hir chast behaviour strave And overcame most constantly the great assaults I gave? Or tell how oft she shet me up with these same words? To one (Where ere he is) I keepe my selfe, and none but he alone Shall sure enjoy the use of me. What creature having his Wits perfect would not be content with such a proofe as this Of hir most stedfast chastitie? I could not be content: But still to purchase to my selfe more wo I further went. At last by profering endlesse welth, and heaping gifts on gifts, In overlading hir with wordes I drave hir to hir shifts. Then cride I out: Thine evill heart my selfe I tardie take. Where of a straunge advouterer the countenance I did make, I am in deede thy husband. O unfaithfull woman thou, Even I my selfe can testifie thy lewde behavior now. She made none answere to my words, but being stricken dum And with the sorrow of hir heart alonly overcum, Forsaketh hir entangling house, and naughtie husband quight: And hating all the sort of men by reason of the spight That I had wrought hir, straide abrode among the Mountaines hie, And exercisde Dianas feates. Then kindled by and by A fiercer fire within my bones than ever was before, When she had thus forsaken me by whome I set such store. I prayde hir she woulde pardon me, and did confesse my fault. Affirming that my selfe likewise with such a great assault Of richesse might right well have bene enforst to yeelde to blame, The rather if performance had ensewed of the same. When I had this submission made, and she sufficiently Revengde hir wronged chastitie, she then immediatly Was reconcilde: and afterward we lived many a yeare In joy and never any jarre betweene us did appeare. Besides all this (as though hir love had bene too small a gift) She gave me eke a goodly Grewnd which was of foote so swift, That when Diana gave him hir, she said he should outgo All others, and with this same Grewnd she gave this Dart also The which you see I hold in hand. Perchaunce ye faine would know What fortune to the Grewnd befell. I will unto you show A wondrous case. The straungenesse of the matter will you move. 

 The krinkes of certaine Prophesies surmounting farre above The reach of auncient wits to read, the Brookenymphes did expound: And mindlesse of hir owne darke doubts Dame Themis being found, Was as a rechelesse Prophetisse throwne flat against the ground. For which presumptuous deede of theirs she tooke just punishment. To Thebes in Baeotia streight a cruell beast she sent, Which wrought the bane of many a Wight. The countryfolk did feed Him with their cattell and themselves, untill (as was agreed) That all we youthfull Gentlemen that dwelled there about Assembling pitcht our corded toyles the champion fields throughout. But Net ne toyle was none so hie that could his wightnesse stop, He mounted over at his ease the highest of the top. Then everie man let slip their Grewnds, but he them all outstript And even as nimbly as a birde in daliance from them whipt. Then all the field desired me to let my Laelaps go: (The Grewnd that Procris unto me did give was named so) Who strugling for to wrest his necke already from the band Did stretch his collar. Scarsly had we let him off of hand But that where Laelaps was become we could not understand. The print remained of his feete upon the parched sand, But he was clearly out of sight. Was never Dart I trow, Nor Pellet from enforced Sling, nor shaft from Cretish bow, That flew more swift than he did runne. There was not farre fro thence About the middle of the Laund a rising ground, from whence A man might overlooke the fieldes. I gate me to the knap Of this same hill, and there beheld of this straunge course the hap In which the beast seemes one while caught, and ere a man would think, Doth quickly give the Grewnd the slip, and from his bighting shrink: And like a wilie Foxe he runnes not forth directly out, Nor makes a windlasse over all the champion fieldes about, But doubling and indenting still avoydes his enmies lips, And turning short, as swift about as spinning wheele he whips, To disapoint the snatch. The Grewnd pursuing at an inch Doth cote him, never losing ground: but likely still to pinch Is at the sodaine shifted off. Continually he snatches In vaine: for nothing in his mouth save only Aire he latches. Then thought I for to trie what helpe my Dart at neede could show. Which as I charged in my hand by levell aime to throw, And set my fingars to the thongs, I lifting from bylow Mine eies, did looke right forth againe, and straight amids the field (A wondrous thing) two Images of Marble I beheld: Of which ye would have thought the t'one had fled on still apace And that with open barking mouth the tother did him chase. In faith it was the will of God (at least if any Goddes Had care of them) that in their pace there should be found none oddes. Thus farre: and then he held his peace. But tell us ere we part (Quoth Phocus) what offence or fault committed hath your Dart? His Darts offence he thus declarde: My Lorde, the ground of all My grief was joy. Those joyes of mine remember first I shall. It doth me good even yet to thinke upon that blissfull time ( meane the fresh and lustie yeares of pleasant youthfull Prime) When I a happie man enjoyde so faire and good a wife, And she with such a loving make did lead a happie life. The care was like of both of us, the mutuall love all one. She would not to have line with Jove my presence have forgone. Ne was there any Wight that could of me have wonne the love, No though Dame Venus had hir selfe descended from above. The glowing brands of love did burne in both our brests alike. Such time as first with crased beames the Sunne is wont to strike The tops of Towres and mountaines high, according to the wont Of youthfull men, in woodie Parkes I went abrode to hunt. But neither horse nor Hounds to make pursuit upon the scent. Nor Servingman, nor knottie toyle before or after went, For I was safe with this same Dart. When wearie waxt mine arme With striking Deere, and that the day did make me somewhat warme, Withdrawing for to coole my selfe I sought among the shades For Aire that from the valleyes colde came breathing in at glades. The more excessive was my heate the more for Aire I sought. I waited for the gentle Aire: the Aire was that that brought Refreshing to my wearie limmes. And (well I bear't in thought) Come Aire I wonted was to sing, come ease the paine of me Within my bosom lodge thy selfe most welcome unto me, And as thou heretofore art wont abate my burning heate. By chaunce (such was my destinie) proceeding to repeate Mo words of daliance like to these, I used for to say Great pleasure doe I take in thee: for thou from day to day Doste both refresh and nourish me. Thou makest me delight In woods and solitarie grounds. Now would to God I might Receive continuall at my mouth this pleasant breath of thine. Some man (I wote not who) did heare these doubtfull words of mine, And taking them amisse supposde that this same name of Aire The which I callde so oft upon, had bene some Ladie faire: He thought that I had lovde some Nymph. And thereupon streight way He runnes me like a Harebrainde blab to Procris, to bewray This fault as he surmised it: and there with lavish tung Reported all the wanton words that he had heard me sung. A thing of light beliefe is love. She (as I since have harde) For sodeine sorrow swounded downe: and when long afterwarde She came againe unto hir selfe, she said she was accurst And borne to cruell destinie: and me she blamed wurst For breaking faith: and freating at a vaine surmised shame She dreaded that which nothing was: she fearde a headlesse name. She wist not what to say or thinke. The wretch did greatly feare Deceit: yet could she not beleve the tales that talked were. Onlesse she saw hir husbands fault apparant to hir eie, She thought she would not him condemne of any villanie. Next day as soone as Morning light had driven the night away, I went abrode to hunt againe: and speeding, as I lay Upon the grasse, I said: Come, Aire, and ease my painfull heate. And on the sodaine as I spake there seemed for to beate A certaine sighing in mine eares of what I could not gesse. But ceasing not for that I still proceeded nathelesse: And said, O come, most pleasant Aire. With that I heard a sound Of russling softly in the leaves that lay upon the ground. And thinking it had bene some beast I threw my flying Dart. It was my wife. Who being now sore wounded at the hart, Cride out, Alas. As soone as I perceyved by the shrieke It was my faithfull spouse, I ran me to the voiceward lieke A madman that had lost his wits. There found I hir halfe dead, Hir scattred garments staining in the bloud that she had bled, And (wretched creature as I am) yet drawing from the wound The gift that she hir selfe had given. Then softly from the ground I lifted up that bodie of hirs of which I was more chare Than of mine owne, and from hir brest hir clothes in hast I tare. And binding up hir cruell wound I strived for to stay The bloud, and prayd she would not thus by passing so away Forsake me as a murtherer: she waxing weake at length And drawing to hir death apace, enforced all hir strength To utter these few wordes at last: I pray thee humbly by Our bond of wedlocke, by the Gods as well above the Skie As those to whome I now must passe, as ever I have ought Deserved well by thee, and by the Love which having brought Me to my death doth even in death unfaded still remaine, To nestle in thy bed and mine let never Aire obtaine. This sed, she held hir peace, and I perceyved by the same And tolde hir also how she was beguiled in the name. But what avayled telling then? she quoathde: and with hir bloud Hir little strength did fade. Howbeit as long as that she coud See ought, she stared in my face and gasping still on me Even in my mouth she breathed forth hir wretched ghost. But she Did seeme with better cheare to die for that hir conscience was Discharged quight and cleare of doubtes. Now in conclusion as Duke Cephal weeping told this tale to Phocus and the rest Whose eyes were also moyst with teares to heare the pitious gest, Behold King Aeacus and with him his eldest sonnes both twaine Did enter in and after them there followed in a traine Of well appointed men of warre new levied: which the King Delivered unto Cephalus to Athens towne to bring. The day starre now beginning to disclose the Morning bright And for to dense the droupie Skie from darkenesse of the night, The Easterne wind went downe and flakes of foggie Clouds gan show, And from the South a merrie gale on Cephals sayles did blow. The which did hold so fresh and large, that he and all his men Before that he was looked for arrived safe agen In wished Haven. In that while King Minos with his fleete Did waste the cost of Megara . And first he thought it meete To make a triall of the force and courage of his men Against the towne Alcathoe where Nisus reigned then. Among whose honorable haire that was of colour gray, One scarlet haire did grow upon his crowne, whereon the stay Of all his Kingdome did depende. Sixe times did Phoebe fill Hir homes with borrowed light, and yet the warre hung wavering still In fickle fortunes doubtfull scaales: and long with fleeting wings Betwene them both flew victorie. A Turret of the Kings Stood hard adjoyning to the Wall which being touched rings, For Phoebus (so men say) did lay his golden Violl there, And so the stones the sound thereof did ever after beare. King Nisus daughter oftentimes resorted to this Wall And strake it with a little stone to raise the sound withall, In time of peace. And in the warre she many a time and oft Behelde the sturdie stormes of Mars from that same place aloft. And by continuance of the siege the Captaines names she knew, Their armes, horse, armor and aray in everie band and crew. Bit specially above the rest she noted Minos face. She knew inough and more than was inough as stoode the case. For were it that he hid his head in Helme with fethered crest, To hir opinion in his Helme he stayned all the rest. Or were it that he tooke in hand of steele his target bright, She thought in weelding of his shielde he was a comly Knight. Or were it that he raisde his arme to throw the piercing Dart, The Ladie did commend his force and manhode joynde with Art. Or drew he with his arrow nockt his bended Bow in hand She sware that so in all respectes was Phoebus wont to stand. But when he shewde his visage bare, his Helmet laid aside, And on a Milke white Steede brave trapt, in Purple Robe did ride, She scarce was Mistresse of hir selfe, hir wits were almost straught. A happie Dart she thought it was that he in fingars caught, And happie called she those reynes that he in hand had raught. And if she might have had hir will, she could have founde in hart, Among the enmies to have gone. She could have found in hart, From downe the highest Turret there hir bodie to have throwne, Among the thickest of the Tents of Gnossus to have flowne, Or for to ope the brazen gates and let the enmie in, Or whatsoever else she thought might Minos favor win. And as she sate beholding still the King of Candies tent, She said: I doubt me whether that I rather may lament Or of this wofull warre be glad. It grieves me at the hart That thou O Minos unto me thy Lover enmie art. But had not this same warfare bene, I never had him knowne. Yet might he leave this cruell warre, and take me as his owne. A wife, a feere, a pledge for peace he might receive of me. O flowre of beautie, O thou Prince most pearlesse: if that she That bare thee in hir wombe were like in beautie unto thee, A right good cause had Jove on hir enamored for to bee. Oh happie were I if with wings I through the Aire might glide And safely to King Minos Tent from this same Turret slide. Then would I utter who I am, and how the firie flame Of Cupid burned in my brest, desiring him to name What dowrie he would aske with me in loan of his love, Save only of my Fathers Realme no question he should move. For rather than by traitrous meanes my purpose should take place, Adue, desire of hoped Love. Yet oftentimes such grace Hath from the gentle Conqueror proceeded erst, that they Which tooke the foyle have found the same their profit and their stay. Assuredly the warre is just that Minos takes in hand, As in revengement of his sonne late murthered in this land. And as his quarrell seemeth just, even so it cannot faile, But rightfull warre against the wrong must (I beleve) prevaile. Now if this Citie in the ende must needes be taken, why Should his owne sworde and not my Love be meanes to win it by? It were yet better he should speede by gentle meanes without The slaughter of his people, yea and (as it may fall out) With spending of his owne bloud too. For sure I have a care O Minos lest some Souldier wound thee ere he be aware. For who is he in all the world that hath so hard a hart That wittingly against thy head would aime his cruell Dart? I like well this devise, and on this purpose will I stand: To yeelde my selfe endowed with this Citie to the hand Of Minos: and in doing so to bring this warre to ende. But smally it availeth me the matter to intende. The gates and yssues of this towne are kept with watch and warde, And of the Keyes continually my Father hath the garde. My Father only is the man of whome I stand in dreede, My Father only hindreth me of my desired speede. Would God that I were Fatherlesse. Tush, everie Wight may bee A God as in their owne behalfe, and if their hearts be free From fearefulnesse. For fortune works against the fond desire Of such as through faint heartednesse attempt not to aspire. Some other feeling in hir heart such flames of Cupids fire Already would have put in proofe some practise to destroy What thing so ever of hir Love the furtherance might anoy And why should any woman have a bolder heart than I? Through fire and sword I boldly durst adventure for to flie. And yet in this behalfe at all there needes no sword nor fire, There needeth but my fathers haire to accomplish my desire. I That Purple haire of his to me more precious were than golde: That Purple haire of his would make me blest a thousand folde: That haire would compasse my desire and set my heart at rest. 

 Night (chiefest Nurce of thoughts to such as are with care opprest) Approched while she spake these words, and darknesse did encrease Hir boldnesse. At such time as folke are wont to finde release Of cares that all the day before were working in their heds, By sleepe which falleth first of all upon them in their beds, Hir fathers chamber secretly she entered: where (alasse That ever Maiden should so farre the bounds of Nature passe) She robde hir Father of the haire upon the which the fate Depended both of life and death and of his royall state. And joying in hir wicked prey, she beares it with hir so As if it were some lawfull spoyle acquired of the fo. And passing through a posterne gate she marched through the mid Of all hir enmies (such a trust she had in that she did) Untill she came before the King, whom troubled with the sight She thus bespake: Enforst, O King, by love against all right I Scylla, Nisus daughter, doe present unto thee heere My native soyle, my household Gods, and all that else is deere For this my gift none other thing in recompence I crave Than of thy person which I love, fruition for to have. And in assurance of my love receyve thou here of mee My fathers Purple haire: and thinke I give not unto thee A haire but even my fathers head. And as these words she spake, The cursed gift with wicked hand she profered him to take. But Minos did abhorre hir gift: and troubled in his minde With straungenesse of the heynous act so sore against hir kinde, He aunswerde: O thou slaunder of our age, the Gods expell Thee out of all this world of theirs and let thee no where dwell. Let rest on neither Sea nor Land be graunted unto thee. Assure thy selfe that as for me I never will agree That Candie, Joves owne foster place (as long as I there raigne), Shall unto such a monstruous Wight a Harbrow place remaine. This said, he like a righteous Judge among his vanquisht foes Set order under paine of death. Which done he willed those That served him to go aboorde and Anchors up to wey. When Scylla saw the Candian fleete aflote to go away, And that the Captaine yeelded not so good reward as shee Had for hir lewdnesse looked for: and when in fine she see That no entreatance could prevaile, then bursting out in ire With stretched hands and scattred haire, as furious as the fire She shraming cryed out aloud: And whither doste thou flie Rejecting me, the only meanes that thou hast conquerde by? O cankerde Churle preferde before my native soyle, preferd Before my father, whither flyste, O Carle of heart most hard? Whose conquest as it is my sinne, so doth it well deserve Reward of thee, for that my fault so well thy turne did serve. Doth neither thee the gift I gave, nor yet my faithfull love, Nor yet that all my hope on thee alonly rested, move? For whither shall I now resort forsaken thus of thee? To Megara the wretched soyle of my nativitie? Behold it lieth vanquished and troden under foote. But put the case it flourisht still: yet could it nothing boote. I have foreclosde it to my selfe through treason when I gave My fathers head to thee. Whereby my countriefolke I drave To hate me justly for my crime. And all the Realmes about My lewde example doe abhorre. Thus have I shet me out Of all the world that only Crete might take me in, which if Thou like a Churle denie, and cast me up without relief, The Ladie Europ surely was not mother unto thee: But one of Affricke Sirts where none but Serpents fostred bee, But even some cruell Tiger bred in Armen or in Inde , Or else the Gulfe Charybdis raisde with rage of Southerne winde. Thou wert not got by Jove: ne yet thy mother was beguilde In shape of Bull: of this thy birth the tale is false compilde. But rather some unwieldie Bull even altogither wilde That never lowed after Cow was out of doubt thy Sire. O father Nisus, put thou me to penance for my hire. Rejoyce thou in my punishment, thou towne by me betrayd. I have deserved (I confesse) most justly to be payd With death. But let some one of them that through my lewdnesse smart Destroy me, why doste thou that by my crime a gainer art, Commit like crime thy selfe? Admit this wicked act of me As to my land and Fatherward in deede most hainous be. Yet oughtest thou to take it as a friendship unto thee. But she was meete to be thy wife, that in a Cow of tree Could play the Harlot with a Bull, and in hir wombe could beare A Barne, in whome the shapes of man and beasts confounded were. How sayst thou, Carle? compell not these my words thine eares to glow? Or doe the windes that drive thy shyps, in vaine my sayings blow? In faith it is no wonder though thy wife Pasiphae Preferrde a Bull to thee, for thou more cruell wert than he. Now wo is me. To make more hast it standeth me in hand. The water sounds with Ores, and hales from me and from my land. In vaine thou striveth, O thou Churle, forgetfull quight of my Desertes: for even in spight of thee pursue thee still will I. Upon thy courbed Keele will I take holde: and hanging so Be drawen along the Sea with thee where ever thou do go. She scarce had said these words, but that she leaped on the wave And getting to the ships by force of strength that Love hir gave Upon the King of Candies Keele in spight of him she clave. Whome when hir father spide (for now he hovered in the aire, And being made a Hobby Hauke did soare between a paire Of nimble wings of yron Mayle) he soused downe amaine To seaze upon hir as she hung, and would have tome hir faine With bowing Beake. But she for feare did let the Caricke go: And as she was about to fall, the lightsome Aire did so Uphold hir that she could not touch the Sea as seemed tho. Anon all fethers she became, and forth away did flie Transformed to a pretie Bird that stieth to the Skie. And for bicause like clipped haire hir head doth beare a marke, The Greekes it Cyris call, and we doe name the same a Larke.