With that proud rumors sweete affright.
But when sad Philomene did straine
Her rape-full-raving brest againe,
These ladyes hearing hir complaine,
Were reinflamd in every vaine.
About the center of the spring,
A secret place is where they sing,
And use their supreme worshypping,
Of Loves neare-darting fiery king.
There many a two-shapt companie,