One day there was brought to the court news of his latest fight. Britomart, the maiden who feared no one, and who wore man’s armour and carried a magic spear, had fought with Marinell, and Marinell was dead. So said they who brought the news.
‘What will Florimell do?’ whispered the court ladies, one to the other.
And all the knights were sad at heart for beautiful Florimell.
When Florimell was told what had befallen Marinell, she rose up from where she sat.
‘I go to find him,’ she said. ‘Living or dead, I will find Marinell.’
Florimell had long, long golden hair. Florimell’s eyes were blue as the sky, and her cheeks were pink, like the sweetest rose in the garden. A circlet of gold and jewels crowned her head. She mounted her snow-white palfrey with its trappings of gold, and rode away through the green woods to look for Marinell.
Four days she rode, but she did not find him. On the fourth day, as she passed through a lonely forest, a wicked robber saw her. He rode after her with his heavy boar-spear, and drove his spurs into the sides of his tired horse till the blood ran down.
When Florimell saw him, she made her palfrey gallop. Off it flew, like the wind, with the thud of the other horse’s hoofs and the crash of branches to urge it on.
Florimell’s golden hair flew behind her, till it looked like the shining track of a shooting star. Her face was white, and her frightened eyes shone like crystal.
Some knights who saw her flash through the trees on her white palfrey, like a streak of light, thought that she must be a spirit.