The griefe thereof him wondrous sore diseasd,
Ne might his ranckling paine with patience be appeasd.
XXXIX
But yet more mindfull of his honour deare,
Then of the grievous smart, which him did wring,
From loathed soile he can him lightly reare,
And strove to loose the far infixed sting:
Which when in vaine he tryde with struggeling,
Inflam'd with wrath, his raging blade he heft,