"Moved by these stirring speeches, hither hie

  From that wide-distant sea, those monarchs bold,

  Resolved to win the buckler, or to die

  Beneath his hand who has that shield of gold."

  Bradamant ponders much the squire's reply:

  He give his horse the head — his story told —

  And plies him so with restless heel and hand,

  He overtakes the damsel's distant band.