Now meet thy fate, incens'd belinda cry'd, and drew a deadly bodkin from her side. (the same, his ancient personage to deck, her great great grandsire wore about his neck, in three seal-rings; which after, melted down, form'd a vast buckle for his widow's gown: her infant grandame's whistle next it grew, the bells she jingled, and the whistle blew; then in a bodkin grac'd her mother's hairs, which long she wore, and now belinda wears.) these lines gently mock the epic convention of the arming of the epic hero the ancestry of the warrior the genealogy of the weapon the posing of the epic question