Thus as we laye in a deadly chaunce, We thought to her we made peticion, And all in Englyshe with long circumstaunce She shewed us all the whole condicion Of the marveylous serpentes operacion, And did shewe us a perfyte remedy To withstande all the crafte of sorcery. And in lykewyse as the maner foloweth, In depured verses of crafty eloquence, Every thyng unto us she sheweth; And first of all with all our diligence These verses we sayed unto her excellence, But she with crafty verses eloquent Gave us an aunswere full expedient. When golden Phebus in the first houre Of his owne daye began to domine, The sorceresse, the false roote of doloure, All of golde that was so pure and fyne, Of the best made the head serpentyne, And eke therof she dyd make his face; Full lyke a mayde it was, a wonders case! And every houre, as the planettes raygned, She made the serpent of the metalles seven; Till she her purpose had fully attayned, And when fyve bodies above on the heaven Wente retrogarde, marveylously to neven, With divers quartils and the more combust, In the dragons tayle, to let a lovers lust. These cursed witches, Disdayne and Straungenes, Made the monster of a subtile kynde, To let my purpose and all my gladnes, But that dame Pallas of her gentle mynde Of marveylous herbes a remedy did fynde; And anone a boxe of marveylous oyntment She toke to me to withstande the serpent. Thus al esmarveyled we dyd then awake, And in my hande I had the oyntment, Closed in a boxe, of whiche I should take To anoynt my harneis for the serpent, Whiche shall devoyde his fyre so fervent, And my swerde also to cause to departe Astrothe the fende, so set with magykes arte. Then when the sunne with his beames mery Began to ryse in the fayre morowe gray, All about lightyng our emispery, Exiling mistes and darke clowdes away, And when we sawe that it was bryght daye, Nere by the ryvage at the last we spied A goodly shyppe whiche unto us fast hied. And ryght by anone the rivage syde, She cast an anker and did us than hayle With a peale of gunnes, at the morowe tyde Her bonet she vayled, and gan to stryke sayle. She was right large, of thre toppes without fayle; Her boate she made out, and sent to the lande, What that we were to knowe and understande, That so did walke by the ryver coast. And with two ladyes we sodaynly mette; So when that they were come to us almoste, From their shyppe boate curiously counterfayte, Hayle, knyght! they sayde, nowe from a lady great, Called dame Pacience, we are hether sent, To knowe your name and all the whole entent