Yet durst he not make loue so suddenly, xxxiii Ne thinke th’affection of her hart to draw From one to other so quite contrary: Besides her modest countenance he saw So goodly graue, and full of princely aw, That it his ranging fancie did refraine, And looser thoughts to lawfull bounds withdraw; Whereby the passion grew more fierce and faine, Like to a stubborne steede whom strong hand would restraine. But _Scudamour_ whose hart twixt doubtfull feare xxxiv And feeble hope hung all this while suspence, Desiring of his _Amoret_ to heare Some gladfull newes and sure intelligence, Her thus bespake; But Sir without offence Mote I request you tydings of my loue, My _Amoret_, sith you her freed fro thence, Where she captiued long, great woes did proue; That where ye left, I may her seeke, as doth behoue. To whom thus _Britomart_, Certes[109] Sir knight, xxxv What is of her become, or whether reft, I can not vnto you aread a right. For from that time I from enchaunters theft Her freed, in which ye her all hopelesse left, I her preseru’d from perill and from feare, And euermore from villenie her kept: Ne euer was there wight to me more deare Then she, ne vnto whom I more true loue did beare. Till on a day as through a desert wyld xxxvi We trauelled, both wearie of the way We did alight, and sate in shadow myld; Where fearelesse I to sleepe me downe did lay. But when as I did out of sleepe abray, I found her not, where I her left whyleare, But thought she wandred was, or gone astray. I cal’d her loud, I sought her farre and neare; But no where could her find, nor tydings of her heare. When _Scudamour_ those heauie tydings heard, xxxvii His hart was thrild with point of deadly feare; Ne in his face or bloud or life appeard, But senselesse stood, like to a mazed steare, That yet of mortall stroke the stound doth beare. Till _Glauce_ thus; Faire Sir, be nought dismayd With needelesse dread, till certaintie ye heare: For yet she may be safe though somewhat strayd; Its best to hope the best, though of the worst affrayd. Nathlesse he hardly of her chearefull speech xxxviii Did comfort take, or in his troubled sight Shew’d change of better cheare: so sore a breach That sudden newes had made into his spright; Till _Britomart_ him fairely thus behight; Great cause of sorrow certes Sir ye haue: But comfort take: for by this heauens light I vow, you dead or liuing not to leaue, Till I her find, and wreake on him that her did reaue.