The unhappy Bradamant laments her so, Fearing the Child is reft from her and gone;
While often tears her visage overflow:
But she, as best she can, conceals her moan.
Oh! how -- oh! how much worse would be her woe, If what she knew not to the maid were known!
That, prisoned and with pain and pine consumed, Her consort to a cruel death was doomed.