Me, all too meane, the sacred Muse areeds
To blazon broad emongst[15] her learned throng:
Fierce warres and faithfull loues shall moralize my song.
Helpe then, O[16] holy Virgin chiefe of nine, ii
Thy weaker Nouice to performe thy will,
Lay forth out of thine everlasting scryne
The antique rolles, which there lye hidden still,
Of Faerie knights and fairest Tanaquill,
Whom that most noble Briton Prince so long
Sought through the world, and suffered so much ill,