Willyam agayne ymade his bowe-ends meet,
    And hie in ayre the arrowe wynged his waie,
    Descendyng like a shafte of thunder sleete,
    Lyke thunder rattling at the noon of daie,
    Onne Algars sheelde the arrowe dyd assaie, 285
    There throghe dyd peerse, and stycke into his groine;
    In grypynge torments on the feelde he laie,
    Tille welcome dethe came in and clos’d his eyne;
    Distort with peyne he laie upon the borne,
  Lyke sturdie elms by stormes in uncothe wrythynges torne. 290

    Alrick his brother, when hee this perceevd,
    He drewe his swerde, his lefte hande helde a speere,
    Towards the duke he turnd his prauncyng steede,
    And to the Godde of heaven he sent a prayre;
    Then sent his lethale javlyn in the ayre, 295
    On Hue de Beaumontes backe the javelyn came,
    Thro his redde armour to hys harte it tare,
    He felle and thondred on the place of fame;
    Next with his swerde he ’sayld the Seiur de Roe,
  And braste his sylver helme, so furyous was the blowe. 300

    But Willyam, who had seen hys prowesse great,
    And feered muche how farre his bronde might goe,
    Tooke a strong arblaster, and bigge with fate
    From twangynge iron sente the fleetynge floe. 
    As Alric hoistes hys arme for dedlie blowe, 305
    Which, han it came, had been Du Roees laste,
    The swyfte-wyngd messenger from Willyams bowe
    Quite throwe his arme into his syde ypaste;
    His eyne shotte fyre, lyke blazyng starre at nyghte,
  He grypd his swerde, and felle upon the place of fyghte. 310

    O Alfwolde, saie, how shalle I synge of thee
    Or telle how manie dyd benethe thee falle;
    Not Haroldes self more Normanne knyghtes did slee,
    Not Haroldes self did for more praises call;
    How shall a penne like myne then shew it all? 315
    Lyke thee their leader, eche Bristowyanne foughte;
    Lyke thee, their blaze must be canonical,
    Fore theie, like thee, that daie bewrecke yroughte: 
    Did thirtie Normannes fall upon the grounde,
  Full half a score from thee and theie receive their fatale wounde. 320

    First Fytz Chivelloys felt thie direful force;
    Nete did hys helde out brazen sheelde availe;
    Eftsoones throwe that thie drivynge speare did peerce
    Nor was ytte stopped by his coate of mayle;
    Into his breaste it quicklie did assayle; 325
    Out ran the bloude, like hygra of the tyde;
    With purple stayned all hys adventayle;
    In scarlet was his cuishe of sylver dyde: 
    Upon the bloudie carnage house he laie,
  Whylst hys longe sheelde dyd gleem with the sun’s rysing ray. 330