With so fell force and villeinous despighte,
That through his haberieon[974] the forkehead flew,
And through the linked mayles empierced quite,
But had no[975] powre in his soft flesh to bite:
That stroke the hardy Squire did sore displease,
But more that him he could not come to smite;
For by no meanes the high banke he could sease,
But labour’d long in that deepe ford with vaine disease.
And still the foster with his long bore-speare xx
Him kept from landing at his wished will;