Amid the forest, in the grene shade;
For Venus love he feltë al the sore.
But Vulcanus with her no mercy made;
390
The foule chorl had many nightes glade,
Wher Mars, her worthy knight, her trewe man,
To finde mercy, comfort noon he can.
Also the yonge fresshe Ipomenes
So lusty free [was], as of his corage,
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