Then she did loue the knight of the Redcrosse;
For whose deare sake so many troubles her did tosse.
At last when feruent sorrow slaked was, xxviii
She vp arose, resoluing him to find
A liue or dead: and forward forth doth pas,
All as the Dwarfe the way to her assynd:
And euermore in constant carefull mind
he fed her wound with fresh renewed bale;
Long tost with stormes, and bet with bitter wind,
High ouer hils, and low adowne the dale,