Xlvii

It was my chance (my chance was faire and good) There for to find a fresh unproved knight, Whose manly hands imbrew'd in guiltie blood Had never bene, ne ever by his might Had throwne to ground the unregarded right: Yet of his prowesse proofe he since hath made (I witnesse am) in many a cruell fight; The groning ghosts of many one dismaide Have felt the bitter dint of his avenging blade.