De Aubignee rod fercely thro’ the fyghte,
  To where the boddie of Salnarville laie;
  Quod he; And art thou ded, thou manne of myghte? 
  I’ll be revengd, or die for thee this daie. 
  Die then thou shalt, Erie Ethelwarde he said; 245
  I am a cunnynge erle, and that can tell;
  Then drewe hys swerde, and ghastlie cut hys hede,
  And on his freend eftsoons he lifeless fell,
    Stretch’d on the bloudie pleyne; great God forefend,
    It be the fate of no such trustie freende! 250

  Then Egwin Sieur Pikeny did attaque;
  He turned aboute and vilely souten flie;
  But Egwyn cutt so deepe into his backe,
  He rolled on the grounde and soon dyd die. 
  His distant sonne, Sire Romara de Biere, 255
  Soughte to revenge his fallen kynsman’s lote,
  But soone Erie Cuthbert’s dented fyghtyng spear
  Stucke in his harte, and stayd his speed, God wote. 
    He tumbled downe close by hys kynsman’s syde,
    Myngle their stremes of pourple bloude, and dy’d. 260

  And now an arrowe from a bowe unwote
  Into Erle Cuthbert’s harte eftsoons dyd flee;
  Who dying sayd; ah me! how hard my lote! 
  Now slayne, mayhap, of one of lowe degree. 
  So have I seen a leafic elm of yore 265
  Have been the pride and glorie of the pleine;
  But, when the spendyng landlord is growne poore. 
  It falls benethe the axe of some rude sweine;
    And like the oke, the sovran of the woode,
    It’s fallen boddie tells you how it stoode. 270

  When Edelward perceevd Erle Cuthbert die,
  On Hubert strongest of the Normanne crewe,
  As wolfs when hungred on the cattel flie,
  So Edelward amaine upon him flewe. 
  With thilk a force he hyt hym to the grounde; 275
  And was demasing howe to take his life,
  When he behynde received a ghastlie wounde
  Gyven by de Torcie, with a stabbyng knyfe;
    Base trecherous Normannes, if such actes you doe,
    The conquer’d maie clame victorie of you. 280

  The erlie felt de Torcie’s trecherous knyfe
  Han made his crymson bloude and spirits floe;
  And knowlachyng he soon must quyt this lyfe,
  Resolved Hubert should too with hym goe. 
  He held hys trustie swerd against his breste, 285
  And down he fell, and peerc’d him to the harte;
  And both together then did take their reste,
  Their soules from corpses unaknell’d depart;
    And both together soughte the unknown shore,
    Where we shall goe, where manie’s gon before. 290