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12 So pake the Wizard, and his hand he wavd, And prompt the cenerie roe, where litles lay The Knight in hady bowre, by treamlet lavd, While Philomela ooth'd the parting day: Here Kathrin him approachd with features gay, And all her tore of blandihments and wiles; The Knight was touchd—but he with oft delay And gentle teares yblends her languid miles, And of bae falitie th' enamourd Boy reviles.

Amazd the Boy beheld her ready teares, And, faultring oft, exclaims with wondring tare, What mean thee ighs? dipell thine ydle feares; And, confident in me, thy griefes declare. And need, quoth he, need I my heart to bare, And tellen what untold well knowne mote be? Lot is my friends good-will, my mother's care— By you deerted—ah! unhappy me! Left to your Aunts fell pight, and weakfull crueltie.