He quickly turns, and, turning, rolls his eyes, In hopes to view his well-loved martial maid;
And thitherward, without delay, he hies Where, when the joust began, the damsel stayed.
Not finding her, it is the Child's surmise That she is gone to bear the stripling aid;
Fearing he may be burnt, while they their journey So long delay, retarded by that tourney.
