And sword saw not, he wexed wondrous woe:
But when the Palmer, whom he long ygoe
Had[718] lost, he by him spide, right glad he grew,
And said, Deare sir, whom wandring to and fro
I long haue lackt, I ioy thy face to vew;
Firme is thy faith, whom daunger neuer fro me drew.
But read what wicked hand hath robbed mee liv
Of my good sword and shield? The Palmer glad,
With so fresh hew vprising him to see,
Him answered; Faire[719] sonne, be no whit sad