The fruitfull vine, whose liquor blouddy red
Hauing the mindes of men with fury fraught,
Mote in them stirre vp old rebellious thought,
To make new warre against the Gods againe:
Such is the powre of that same fruit, that nought
The fell contagion may thereof restraine,
Ne within reasons rule, her madding mood containe.
There did the warlike Maide her selfe repose, xii
Vnder the wings of Isis all that night,
And with sweete rest her heauy eyes did close,