Lii

Ere she had ended all, she gan to faint: But he her comforted and faire bespake, Certes, Madame, ye have great cause of plaint, The stoutest heart, I weene, could cause to quake. But be of cheare, and comfort to you take: For till I have acquit your captive knight, Assure your selfe, I will you not forsake. His chearefull wordes reviv'd her chearelesse spright, So forth they went, the Dwarfe them guiding ever right.

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