Book i

. Canto viii. St. 1._

As when in Cymbrian plaine An heard of bulles, whom kindly rage doth sting, Doe for the milky mothers want complaine,[27-4] And fill the fieldes with troublous bellowing.

_Faerie Queene. Book i . Canto viii. St. 11._

Entire affection hateth nicer hands.

_Faerie Queene. Book i . Canto viii. St. 40._

That darksome cave they enter, where they find That cursed man, low sitting on the ground, Musing full sadly in his sullein mind.

_Faerie Queene.