This grieved the damsel's heart, but far above

  That grief, the former fear her heard did goad;

  That young Rogero had withdrawn his love

  From her, and on the warlike queen bestowed.

  So buried in the thoughts wherewith she strove,

  Was Bradamant, she heeded nor her road,

  Nor took she care where, at the close of light,

  To find befitting shelter for the night.