He calde the next which therwithall in sight
Appear’d, and all his breste with bloud bedide.
What chaunce (quoth I) hath so thy corps bedight,
Thou worthy prince, or what mishaps of fight?
“I will (quoth he) with all my hart vnfolde
“My fatall fall, and therwithall he tolde.”
[516] This legend is not in the first edition.
[517] Which sought by outrage golden gaines to winne. N.
A sleepie sicknesse, nam’d the Lethargie,