“... (Either ancient folke believ’d a lie,
Or this is true) a fayrie cannot die.”
And again (Bk. xliii. s. 92),
“I am a fayrie, and, to make you know,
To be a fayrie what it doth import:
We cannot dye, how old so ear we grow.
Of paines and harmes of ev’rie other sort
We tast, onelie no death we nature ow.”