XLV
So fiersly, when these knights had breathed once,
They gan to fight returne, increasing more
Their puissant force, and cruell rage attonce.
With heaped strokes more hugely then before, 395
That with their drerie wounds and bloudy gore
They both deformed, scarsely could be known.
By this, sad Una fraught with anguish sore,
Led with their noise, which through the aire was thrown:
Arriv'd, wher they in erth their fruitles bloud had sown. 400
XLVI
Whom all so soone as that proud Sarazin
Espide, he gan revive the memory
Of his lewd lusts, and late attempted sin,
And left the doubtfull battell hastily,
To catch her, newly offred to his eie: 405
But Satyrane with strokes him turning, staid,
And sternely bad him other businesse plie,
Then hunt the steps of pure unspotted Maid:
Wherewith he all enrag'd, these bitter speaches said.
XLVII
O foolish faeries son, what fury mad 410
Hath thee incenst, to hast thy doefull fate?
Were it not better I that Lady had,
Then that thou hadst repented it too late?
Most senseless man he, that himselfe doth hate
To love another.
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