Cant. VII.
the Faerie Queene.
97
The wretched payre transformd to treen mould;The house of Pryde, and perilles round about;The combat, which he with Sansioy did hould;The lucklesse conflict with the Gyaunt stout,Wherein captiu'd, of life or death he stood in doubt.
She heard with patience all vnto the end,And stroue to maister sorrowfull assay,Which greater grew, the more she did contend,And almost rent her tender hart in tway;And loue fresh coles vnto her fire did lay:For greater loue, the greater is the losse.Was neuer Lady loued dearer day,Then she did loue the knight of the Redcrosse;For whose deare sake so many troubles her did tosse.
At last when feruent sorrow slaked was,She vp arose, resoluing him to findAliue or dead: and forward forth doth pas,All as the Dwarfe the way to her assynd:And euer more in constant carefull mindShe fedd her wound with fresh renewed bale;Long tost with stormes, and bet with better wind,High ouer hills, and lowe adowne the dale,She wandred many a wood, and measurd many a vale.
At last she chaunced by good hap to meetA goodly knight, faire marching by the wayTogether with his Squyre, arayed meet:His glitter and armour shined far away,Like glauncing light of Phœbus brightest ray;From top to toe no place appeared bare,That deadly dint of steele endanger may:Athwart his brest a bauldrick braue he ware,That shind, like twinkling stars, with stones most pretious rare.
And
