He chaunst one comming towards him to spy,
That seem’d to be some sorie simple clowne,
With ragged weedes, and lockes vpstaring hye,
As if he did from some late daunger fly,
And yet his feare did follow him behynd:
Who as he vnto him approched nye,
He mote perceiue by signes, which he did fynd,
That Coridon it was, the silly shepherds hynd.
Tho to him running fast, he did not stay xxviii
To greet him first, but askt where were the rest;