They thought none other but that I was ded.
The spiryte vanished, the ayre wexed clere;
Then did I loke and beholde aboute
Wher was the toure of my lady so dere;
Tyll at the last I had espyed it oute,
Set on a rocke right hie, without doubte,
And all the ladies, wyth Perseveraunce,
To me did come with joye and pleausaunce.
Forsoth, quod they, you are muche fortunate,
So to subdue the serpent venimous,