To whether should the victory befall,
Now when they saw it falne, they eke him greeted all.
But Belge with her sonnes prostrated low xvi
Before his feete, in all that peoples sight[364],
Mongst ioyes mixing some tears, mongst wele, some wo
Him thus bespake; O most redoubted Knight,
The which hast me, of all most wretched wight,
That earst was dead, restor’d to life againe,
And these weake impes replanted by thy might;
What guerdon can I giue thee for thy paine,