But did I here relate, Sir Satyrane,
The many weary miles I've travelled,
What dangers I've assoil'd, yet all in vain,
(For, by my truth, but ill my days I've sped)
Your hair would stand upright upon your head.
Three hundred virtuous females side by side,
By me to Columbella must be led:
Can you direct me where for such to ride?
cannot, in good sooth, the courteous knight reply'd.