And squiers make hast to helpe their Lords fordonne,
But still the Knights of Maidenhead the better wonne.
Till that there entred on the other side, xxxix
A straunger knight, from whence no man could reed,
In quyent disguise, full hard to be descride.
For all his armour was like saluage weed,
With woody mosse bedight, and all his steed
With oaken leaues attrapt, that seemed fit
For saluage wight, and thereto well agreed
His word, which on his ragged shield was writ,