But onely mongst the rest by her to sit,
Mourning the rigour of her malady,
And seeking all things meete for remedy.
But she resolu’d no remedy to fynde,
Nor better cheare to shew in misery,
Till Fortune would her captiue bonds vnbynde,
Her sickenesse was not of the body but the mynde.
During which space that she thus sicke did lie, ix
It chaunst a sort of merchants, which were wount
To skim those coastes, for bondmen there to buy,