A swerd she had of merueylous fassyon

bb .ii.

As though a thousand she sholde bete

No man the vyctory of her myght gete

A noble vyrgyn there dyde her serue

That fyrst made harnes called Mynerue

 The chaumbre where she held her consystory

The dewe aromatyke dyde oft degoute

Of fragraunt floures full of delycasy

That all yll heyres dyde ensence oute

A carbuncle there was that all aboute

Enlumyned the chaumbre both day and nyght

My thought it was an heuenly syght

 Nyne quenes I sawe that satte her by

Beynge all armed of grete fortytude

In many a stower they wanne the vyctory

And were endued with facounde pulcrytude

For to haunte armes was theyr consuetude

Many a regyon they often wanne

And also vaynquysshed many a noble man

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