Cant. III.
the Faery Queene.
41
Much like, as when the beaten marinere.That long hath wandred in the Ocean wide,Ofte soust in swelling Tethys saltish teare,And long time hauing tand his tawney hide,With blustring breath of Heauē, that none can bide,And scorching flames of fierce Orions hound,Soone as the port from far he has espide,His chearfull whistle merily doth sound,And Nereus crownes with cups; his mates him pledg around.
Such ioy made Vna, when her knight she found;And eke th'enchaunter ioyous seemde no lesse,Then the glad marchant, that does vew from groundHis ship far come from watrie wildernesse,He hurles out vowes, and Neptune oft doth blesse:So forth they past, and all the way they spentDiscoursing of her dreadful late distresse,In which he askt her, what the Lyon ment:Who told her all that fell in iourney, as she went.
They had not ridden far, when they might seeOne pricking towards them with hastie heat,Full strongly armd, and on a courser free,That through his fiersnesse fomed all with sweat,And the sharpe yron did for anger eat,When his hot ryder spurd his chauffed side;His looke was sterne, and seemed still to threatCruell reuenge, which he in hart did hyde,And on his shield Sans loy in bloody lines was dyde.
When nigh he drew vnto this gentle payreAnd saw the Red-crosse, which the knight did beare,He burnt in fire, and gan eftsoones prepareHimselfe to batteill with his couched speare.
Loth
