(As which she saw so late before) even so when she did see
The colour of the berries turned, she was uncertain whether
It were the tree at which they both agreed to meet together.
While in this doubtful stound[[4]] she stood, she cast her eye aside,
And there beweltered in his blood her lover she espied
Lie sprawling with his dying limbs; at which she started back,
And lookéd pale as any box; a shuddering through her strack,
Even like the sea which suddenly with whissing noise doth move,
When with a little blast of wind it is but touched above.
But when approaching nearer him she knew it was her love,