He greater grew, and gan to driue at him more hard.
Like as a water streame, whose swelling sourse xxi
Shall driue a Mill, within strong bancks is pent,
And long restrayned of his ready course;
So soone as passage is vnto him lent,
Breakes forth, and makes his way more violent.
Such was the fury of Sir Calidore,
When once he felt his foeman to relent;
He fiercely him pursu’d, and pressed sore,
Who as he still decayd, so he encreased more.