XII

But he the knight, whose semblaunt he did beare, 100
The true Saint George, was wandred far away,
Still flying from his thoughts and gealous feare;
Will was his guide, and griefe led him astray.
At last him chaunst to meete upon the way
A faithless Sarazin° all arm'd to point, 105
In whose great shield was writ with letters gay
_Sans foy:_ full large of limbe and every joint
He was, and cared not for God or man a point.

XIII

He had a faire companion° of his way,
A goodly Lady clad in scarlot red, 110
Purfled with gold and pearle of rich assay,
And like a Persian mitre on her hed
She wore, with crowns and owches garnished,
The which her lavish lovers to her gave;
Her wanton palfrey all was overspred 115
With tinsell trappings, woven like a wave,
Whose bridle rung with golden bels and bosses brave.

XIV

With faire disport and courting dalliaunce
She intertainde her lover all the way:
But when she saw the knight his speare advaunce, 120