Enforcéd be to dye!"
Then out and laught that wicked Witch:
"If that you will not drinke,
This dagger choose! Though you be riche,
You'll shrinke from that, I thinke."
The dagger was a magic blayde,
With figures graven o'er,
Which, as you gazed thereon, did seeme
To growe to more and more.
"Nay," quothe faire Loundonne, "'tis but choyce