His gentle heart with indignation sweld,
And could no lenger beare so great abuse,
As such a Lady so to beate and bruse;
But to him stepping, such a stroke him lent,
That forst him th’halter from his hand to loose,
And maugre all his might, backe to relent:
Else had he surely there bene slaine, or fowly shent.
The villaine, wroth for greeting him so sore, xlvi
Gathered him selfe together soone againe,
And with his yron batton, which he bore,