Whilst the greatest effort has been made to ensure the quality of this text, due to the historical nature of this content, in some rare cases there may be minor issues with legibility. Yet thould it be a pleafant tale to tell The diverfe ufage and demeanure daint, That each to Other made, as oft befell, For Amoret right fearful was and faint, Left the with cblame her honour thould attaint, ‚ That every word did tremble as the fpake, And every look was coy, and wondrous quaint, And every limb that touched her did quake: Yet could the not but courteous count‘ nance to her make.