from Turpine reskewed is,
And whylest an Infant from a Beare
he saues, his love doth misse.
Like as a ship with dreadfull storme long tost, i
Hauing spent all her mastes and her ground-hold,
Now farre from harbour likely to be lost,
At last some fisher barke doth neare behold,
That giueth comfort to her courage cold.
Such was the state of this most courteous knight
Being oppressed by that faytour bold,