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As suddenly Hell’s own disgust
Eats up the joy he had of lust.
The brutal glee his folly took
For holy joy breaks down his brain.
Off bolts the Beast: the earth is shook
As out a questing roars again,
As if a thirty couple hounds
Are in its belly as it bounds !
The peasants gather to deride
The knight: creation joins in mirth.
Ashamed and scorned on every side,
There gallops, hateful to the earth,
The laughing-stock of beasts and men,
Sir Palamede the Saracen.