So mischief fel vpon the meaners crowne;
They three be dead with shame, the Squire liues with renowne.
He liues, but takes small ioy of his renowne; xxvi
For of that cruell wound he bled so sore,
That from his steed he fell in deadly swowne;
Yet still the bloud forth gusht in so great store,
That he lay wallowd all in his owne gore.
Now God thee keepe, thou gentlest Squire aliue,
Else shall thy louing Lord thee see no more,
But both of comfort him thou shalt depriue,