But now, faire Ladie, comfort to you make, xviii
And read, who hath ye wrought this shamefull plight;[454]
That short reuenge the man may ouertake,
Where so he be, and soone vpon him light.
Certes (saide she) I wote not how he hight,
But vnder him a gray steede did he[455] wield,
Whose sides with dapled circles weren dight;
Vpright he rode, and in his siluer shield
He bore a bloudie Crosse, that quartred all the field.
Now by my head (said Guyon) much I muse, xix