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And, though he nought could challenge me

Of treasonous plot or treachery.

He yet such cruel despite nursed

And fostered in his soul accurst.

That nought could soften, shake, or melt

His heart for all the woes I felt.

HEN life seemed lost, and effort vain,

God sent to aid me sisters twain,

Franchise and Pity, who their way

Betook towards Danger; grieved were they

To see the sad and doleful plight

Wherein I stood. First Franchise dight

Her speech with kindly sympathy.

“Danger,” she said, “as God hears me!

You do with menaces unmeet,

And harsh and bitter words, entreat

The Lover, who to you hath ne’er

Done one unkindly act, I swear.

If Cupid’s power his heart constrain

To love, wherefore should you complain

Thereof?

The God of Love hath made

This gentle youth his spoil, and laid