With that Rosader vailed bonnet to the king, and lightly
leaped within the lists, where noting more the company than the
combatant, he cast his eye upon the troop of ladies that glistered
there like the stars of heaven; but at last, Love, willing to make him
as amorous as he was valiant, presented him with the sight of
Rosalynde, whose admirable beauty so inveigled the eye of Rosader,
that forgetting himself, he stood and fed his looks on the favor of
Rosalynde's face; which she perceiving blushed, which was such a
doubling of her beauteous excellence, that the bashful red of Aurora
at the sight of unacquainted Phaeton, was not half so glorious.
The Norman seeing this young gentleman fettered in the looks of the
ladies drave him out of his _memento_[1] with a shake by the shoulder.
Rosader looking back with an angry frown, as if he had been wakened
from some pleasant dream, discovered to all by the fury of his
countenance that he was a man of some high thoughts: but when they all
noted his youth and the sweetness of his visage, with a general
applause of favors, they grieved that so goodly a young man should
venture in so base an action; but seeing it were to his dishonor to
hinder him from his enterprise, they wished him to be graced with the
palm of victory.
Pages:
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67