At last the golden Orientall gate, 10
Of greatest heaven gan to open faire,
And Phoebus fresh, as bridegrome to his mate,
Came dauncing forth, shaking his deawie haire:
And hurls his glistring beams through gloomy aire.
Which when the wakeful Elfe perceiv'd, streightway 15
He started up, and did him selfe prepaire,
In sunbright armes, and battailous array:
For with that Pagan proud he combat will that day.

III

And forth he comes into the commune hall,
Where earely waite him many a gazing eye, 20
To weet what end to straunger knights may fall.
There many Minstrales maken melody,
To drive away the dull melancholy,
And many Bardes, that to the trembling chord
Can tune their timely voyces° cunningly, 25
And many Chroniclers that can record
Old loves,° and warres for Ladies doen by many a Lord.

IV

Soone after comes the cruell Sarazin,
In woven maile° all armed warily,
And sternly lookes at him, who not a pin 30
Does care for looke of living creatures eye.
They bring them wines of Greece and Araby,°
And daintie spices fetcht from furthest Ynd,°