3430And as unwilling to depart from them
His ireful cracks the trembling grove did hem.
These, suddenly succeeding so the first,
And at that instant when he feigned a spell,
Did make Albino judge himself accursed,
Thinking his voice unhinged the gates of hell.
Bellama's rosies wore as white as snow,
As though the Phyma did upon them blow.
And justly, for though these but common were,
Yet at that time when faintness kept the wicket,