Cant. VI.
the Faerie Queene.
85
Too late it was, to Satyres to be told,Or euer hope recouer her againe:In vaine he seekes that hauing cannot hold.So fast he carried her with carefull paine,That they the wods are past, & come now to the plaine.
The better part now of the lingring day,They traueild had, whenas they far espideA weary wight for wandring by the way,And towards him they gan in hast to ride,To weete of newes, that did abroad betide,Or tidings of her knight of the Redcrosse.But he them spying, gan to turne aside,For feare as seemd, or for some feigned losse;More greedy they of newes, fast towards him do crosse.
A silly man, in simple weeds forworne,And soild with dust of the long dried way;His sandales were with to ilsome trauell torne,And face all tand with scorching sunny ray,As he had traueild many a sommers day,Through boyling sands of Arabie and Ynde;And in his hand a Iacobs staffe, to stayHis weary limbs vpon: and eke behind,His scrip did hang, in which his needments he did bind.
The knight approching nigh, of him inquerdTidings of warre, and of aduentures new;But warres, nor new aduentures none he herd.Then Vna gan to aske, if ought he knew,Or heard abroad of that her champion trew,That in his armour bare a croslet red.Ay me, Deare dame (qd. he) well may I rewTo tell the sad sight, which mine eies haue red:These eies did see that knight both liuing, and cke ded.
That
