I recollect that I was bound to sing

  (I promised so, but it escaped my mind)

  Of a suspicion, fraught with suffering

  To Bradamant of more displeasing kind,

  And made by keener and more venomed sting

  Than caused that other wound, wherewith she pined,

  Which, hearing Richardet his news impart,

  Had pierced her breast and preyed upon her heart.