LXXXVI And when she saw her enterprise had got Some wished mean of quick and good proceeding, She thought to strike the iron that was hot, For every action hath his hour of speeding: Medea or false Circe changed not So far the shapes of men, as her eyes spreading Altered their hearts, and with her syren’s sound In lust, their minds, their hearts, in love she drowned.
LXXXVII All wily sleights that subtle women know, Hourly she used, to catch some lover new. None kenned the bent of her unsteadfast bow, For with the time her thoughts her looks renew, From some she cast her modest eyes below, At some her gazing glances roving flew, And while she thus pursued her wanton sport, She spurred the slow, and reined the forward short.
LXXXVIII If some, as hopeless that she would be won, Forebore to love, because they durst not move her, On them her gentle looks to smile begun, As who say she is kind if you dare prove her On every heart thus shone this lustful sun, All strove to serve, to please, to woo, to love her, And in their hearts that chaste and bashful were, Her eye’s hot glance dissolved the frost of fear.
LXXXIX On them who durst with fingering bold assay To touch the softness of her tender skin, She looked as coy, as if she list not play, And made as things of worth were hard to win; Yet tempered so her deignful looks alway, That outward scorn showed store of grace within: Thus with false hope their longing hearts she fired, For hardest gotten things are most desired.
XC Alone sometimes she walked in secret where, To ruminate upon her discontent, Within her eyelids sate the swelling tear, Not poured forth, though sprung from sad lament, And with this craft a thousand souls well near In snares of foolish ruth and love she hent, And kept as slaves, by which we fitly prove That witless pity breedeth fruitless love.
XCI Sometimes, as if her hope unloosed had The chains of grief, wherein her thoughts lay fettered, Upon her minions looked she blithe and glad, In that deceitful lore so was she lettered; Not glorious Titan, in his brightness clad, The sunshine of her face in lustre bettered: For when she list to cheer her beauties so, She smiled away the clouds of grief and woe.