lore, which from her sweet lips did redound. 265
XXXI
He wondred at her wisedome heavenly rare,
Whose like in womens wit he never knew;
And when her curteous deeds he did compare,
Gan her admire, and her sad sorrowes rew,
Blaming of Fortune, which such troubles threw, 270
And joyd to make proofe of her crueltie,
On gentle Dame, so hurtlesse, and so trew:
Thenceforth he kept her goodly company,
And learnd her discipline of faith and veritie.
XXXII
But she all vowd unto the Redcrosse knight, 275
His wandring perill closely did lament,
Ne in this new acquaintaunce could delight,
But her deare heart with anguish did torment,
And all her wit in secret counsels spent,
How to escape. At last in privie wise 280
To Satyrane she shewed her intent;
Who glad to gain such favour, gan devise
How with that pensive Maid he best might thence arise.
XXXIII
So on a day when Satyres all were gone
To do their service to Sylvanus old, 285
The gentle virgin left behind alone
He led away with courage stout and bold.
Too late it was, to Satyres to be told,
Or ever hope recover her againe:
In vaine he seekes that having cannot hold. 290
So fast he carried her with carefull paine,
That they the woods are past, and come now to the plaine.
XXXIV
The better part now of the lingring day,
They traveild had, whenas they farre espide
A weary wight forwandring by the way, 295
And towards him they gan in haste to ride,
To weete of newes, that did abroad betide,
Or tydings of her knight of the Redcrosse.
But he them spying, gan to turne aside,
For feare as seemd, or for some feigned losse; 300
More greedy they of newes, fast towards him do crosse.
XXXV
A silly man, in simple weedes forworne,
And soild with dust of the long dried way;
His sandales were with toilsome travell torne,
And face all tand with scorching sunny ray, 305
As he had traveild many a sommers day,
Through boyling sands of Arabie and Ynde;
And in his hand a Jacobs staffe,[*] to stay
His wearie limbes upon: and eke behind,
His scrip did hang, in which his needments he did bind. 310
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