Through thick and thin, through mountains and through plains,
Compelling her, wher she would not, by force[516],
Haling her palfrey by the hempen raines.
But that same foole, which most increast her paines,
Was Scorne, who hauing in his hand a whip,
Her therewith yirks, and still when she complaines,
The more he laughes, and does her closely quip,
To see her sore lament, and bite her tender lip.
Whose cruell handling when that Squire beheld, xlv
And saw those villaines her so vildely[517] vse,