He mightè see him besides Oft in hot undertides The king of Faëry with his rout Come to hunt him all about, With dim cry and blowíng, And houndes also with him barkíng. Ac (_yet_) no beastè they no nome, Ne never he nist whither they be come; And other while he might them see As a great hostè by him te.[83] Well atourned ten hundred knightes Each well y-armed to his rightes, Of countenancè stout and fierce, With many displayéd bannérs, And each his sword y-drawè hold; Ac never he nistè whither they wold. And otherwhile he seigh (_saw_) other thing, Knightès and levedis (_ladies_) come dauncíng In quaint attirè guisëly, Quiet pace and softëly. Tabours and trumpès gede (_went_) him by, And allè manere minstracy. And on a day he seigh him beside Sixty levedis on horse ride, Gentil and jolif as brid on ris (_bird on branch_), Nought o (_one_) man amonges hem ther nis, And each a faucoun on hond bare, And riden on hauken by o rivér. Of game they found well good haunt, Mallardes, heron, and cormeraunt. The fowlès of the water ariseth, Each faucoun them well deviseth, Each faucoun his preyè slough[84] (_slew_). Among the ladies he recognises his lost queen, and he determines to follow them, and attempt her rescue. In at a roche (_rock_) the levedis rideth, And he after and nought abideth. When he was in the roche y-go Well three milès other (_or_) mo, He came into a fair countráy As bright soonne summers day, Smooth and plain and allè grene, Hill ne dale nas none y-seen. Amiddle the lond a castel he seigh, Rich and real and wonder high. Allè the utmostè wall Was clear and shinè of cristal. An hundred towers there were about, Deguiselich and batailed stout. The buttras come out of the ditch, Of redè gold y-arched rich. The bousour was anowed all Of each manere diverse animal. Within there werè widè wones All of precious stones. The worstè pillar to behold Was all of burnished gold. All that lond was ever light, For when it should be therk (_dark_) and night, The richè stonès lightè gonne (_yield_[85]) Bright as doth at nonne the sonne, No man may tell ne think in thought The richè work that there was wrought. Orfeo makes his way into this palace, and so charms the king with his minstrelsy, that he gives him back his wife. They return to Winchester, and there reign, in peace and happiness. Another instance of this kind of Feerie may be seen in Thomas the Rymer, but, restricted by our limits, we must omit it, and pass to the last kind.