The Child demanded of that elder, who Was he that from the gate first took his way, And he, " 'Tis Sansonet; of crimson hue, I know his surcoat, with white flowers gay."
Without a word exchanged, the warlike two Divide the ground, and short is the delay.
For they against each other, levelling low Their spears, and hurrying sore their coursers, go.
