Redounding teares did choke th’end of her plaint, viii Which softly ecchoed from the neighbour wood; And sad to see her sorrowfull constraint The kingly beast vpon her gazing stood; With pittie calmd, downe fell his angry mood. At last in close hart shutting vp her paine, Arose the virgin borne of heauenly brood, And to her snowy Palfrey got againe, To seeke her strayed Champion, if she might attaine. The Lyon would not leaue her desolate, ix But with her went along, as a strong gard Of her chast person, and a faithfull mate Of her sad troubles and misfortunes hard: Still when she slept, he kept both watch and ward, And when she wakt, he waited diligent, With humble seruice to her will prepard: From her faire eyes he tooke commaundement, And euer by her lookes conceiued her intent. Long she thus traueiled through deserts wyde, x By which she thought her wandring knight shold pas, Yet neuer shew of liuing wight espyde; Till that at length she found the troden gras, In which the tract of peoples footing was, Vnder the steepe foot of a mountaine hore; The same she followes, till at last she has A damzell spyde slow footing her before, That on her shoulders sad a pot of water bore. To whom[113] approching she to her gan call, xi To weet, if dwelling place were nigh at hand; But the rude wench her answer’d nought at all, She could not heare, nor speake, nor vnderstand; Till seeing by her side the Lyon stand, With suddaine feare her pitcher downe she threw, And fled away: for neuer in that land Face of faire Ladie she before did vew, And that dread[114] Lyons looke her cast in deadly hew. Full fast she fled, ne euer lookt behynd, xii As if her life vpon the wager lay, And home she came, whereas her mother blynd Sate in eternall night: nought could she say, But suddaine catching hold, did her dismay With quaking hands, and other signes of feare: Who full of ghastly fright and cold affray, Gan shut the dore. By this arriued there Dame _Vna_, wearie Dame, and entrance did requere. Which when none yeelded, her vnruly Page xiii With his rude clawes the wicket open rent, And let her in; where of his cruell rage Nigh dead with feare, and faint astonishment, She found them both in darkesome corner pent; Where that old woman day and night did pray Vpon her beades deuoutly penitent; Nine hundred _Pater nosters_ euery day, And thrise nine hundred _Aues_ she was wont to say.