And put before his lap a napron[292] white,
In stead of Curiets and bases fit for fight.
So being clad, she brought him from the field, xxi
In which he had bene trayned many a day,
Into a long large chamber, which was sield
With moniments of many knights decay,
By her subdewed in victorious fray:
Amongst the which she causd his warlike armes
Be hang’d on high, that mote his shame bewray;
And broke his sword, for feare of further harmes,