87.
And I the while with sprits[1638] welny bereft,
Beheld the plight and pangs that did him strayne,
And how the bloud his deadly colour left,
And straight retournde with flaming red againe:
When sodaynly amid his raging payne
Hee gaue a sigh, and with that sigh hee sayed:
“Oh Banastaire:” and strait agayne hee stayed.
88.
Dead lay his corps, as dead as any stone,