XXXI

Much like, as when the beaten marinere,
  That long hath wandred in the Ocean wide,
  Oft soust in swelling Tethys saltish teare,
  And long time having tand his tawney hide
  With blustring breath of heaven, that none can bide, 275
  And scorching flames of fierce Orions hound,[*]
  Soone as the port from farre he has espide,
  His chearefull whistle merrily doth sound,
And Nereus crownes with cups[*]; his mates him pledg around.

XXXII

Such joy made Una, when her knight she found; 280
  And eke th’ enchaunter joyous seemd no lesse,
  Then the glad marchant, that does vew from ground[*]
  His ship farre come from watrie wildernesse,
  He hurles out vowes, and Neptune oft doth blesse: 
  So forth they past, and all the way they spent 285
  Discoursing of her dreadful late distresse,
  In which he askt her, what the Lyon ment: 
Who told her all that fell in journey as she went.

XXXIII

They had not ridden farre, when they might see
  One pricking towards them with hastie heat, 290
  Full strongly armd, and on a courser free,
  That through his fiercenesse fomed all with sweat,
  And the sharpe yron did for anger eat,
  When his hot ryder spurd his chauffed side;
  His looke was sterne, and seemed still to threat 295
  Cruell revenge, which he in hart did hyde,
And on his shield Sans loy[*] in bloudie lines was dyde.

XXXIV

When nigh he drew unto this gentle payre
  And saw the Red-crosse, which the knight did beare,
  He burnt in fire, and gan eftsoones prepare 300
  Himselfe to battell with his couched speare. 
  Loth was that other, and did faint through feare,
  To taste th’ untryed dint of deadly steele;
  But yet his Lady did so well him cheare,
  That hope of new goodhap he gan to feele; 305
So bent his speare, and spurd his horse with yron heele.

XXXV

But that proud Paynim forward came so fierce,
  And full of wrath, that with his sharp-head speare,
  Through vainly crossed shield[*] he quite did pierce,
  And had his staggering steede not shrunke for feare, 310
  Through shield and bodie eke he should him beare: 
  Yet so great was the puissance of his push,
  That from his saddle quite he did him beare: 
  He tombling rudely downe to ground did rush,
And from his gored wound a well of bloud did gush. 315

XXXVI

Dismounting lightly from his loftie steed,
  He to him lept, in mind to reave his life,
  And proudly said, Lo there the worthie meed
  Of him that slew Sansfoy with bloudie knife;
  Henceforth his ghost freed from repining strife, 320
  In peace may passen over Lethe lake,[*]
  When mourning altars purgd with enemies life,
  The blacke infernall Furies[*] doen aslake: 
Life from Sansfoy thou tookst, Sansloy shall from thee take.