As doth a christall mirror in the sonne:
For thy sweet sake I have crost the frosen Rhine,[1130]
Leaving faire Po, I saild up Danuby,
As farre as Saba, whose inhansing streames 810
Cuts twixt the Tartars and the Russians,—
These have I crost for thee, faire Delia:
Then grant me that which I have sude for long.
Del. Thou gentle knight, whose fortune is so good,
To finde me out, and set my brothers free, 815
My faith, my heart, my hand, I give to thee.