Faerie Queene. Book i. Canto iii. St. 4.

Ay me, how many perils doe enfold

The righteous man, to make him daily fall![27:3]

Faerie Queene. Book i. Canto viii. St. 1.

As when in Cymbrian plaine

An heard of bulles, whom kindly rage doth sting,

Doe for the milky mothers want complaine,[27:4]

And fill the fieldes with troublous bellowing.

Faerie Queene. Book i. Canto viii. St. 11.

Entire affection hateth nicer hands.