IX.
—One day, dear lady, missing the broad track,
I came on a wood’s border, by a mead,
Where golden May ran up to moted black:
And there I saw Queen Beauty hold review,
With Love before her throne in act to plead.
Take him for me, take her for you.
X.
—Ingenious gentleman, the tale is known.
Love pleaded sweetly: Beauty would not melt: