He nought forgot, how he whilome had sworne,
In case he could that monstrous beast destroy,
Vnto his Faerie Queene backe to returne:
The which he shortly did, and Vna left to mourne.
Now strike your sailes ye iolly Mariners, xlii
For we be come vnto a quiet rode,
Where we must land some of our passengers,
And light this wearie vessell of her lode.
Here she a while may make her safe abode,
Till she repaired haue her tackles spent,