Hue de Longeville, a force doughtre mere,
    Advauncyd forwarde to provoke the darte,
    When soone he founde that Adhelmes poynted speere
    Had founde an easie passage to his hearte. 
    He drewe his bowe, nor was of dethe astarte, 485
    Then fell down brethlesse to encrease the corse;
    But as he drewe hys bowe devoid of arte,
    So it came down upon Troyvillains horse;
    Deep thro hys hatchments wente the pointed floe;
  Now here, now there, with rage bleedyng he rounde doth goe. 490

    Nor does he hede his mastres known commands,
    Tyll, growen furiouse by his bloudie wounde,
    Erect upon his hynder feete he staundes,
    And throwes hys mastre far off to the grounde. 
    Near Adhelms feete the Normanne laie astounde, 495
    Besprengd his arrowes, loosend was his sheelde,
    Thro his redde armoure, as he laie ensoond,
    He peercd his swerde, and out upon the feelde
    The Normannes bowels steemd, a dedlie syghte! 
  He opd and closd hys eyen in everlastynge nyghte. 500

    Caverd, a Scot, who for the Normannes foughte,
    A man well skilld in swerde and soundynge strynge,
    Who fled his country for a crime enstrote,
    For darynge with bolde worde hys loiaule kynge,
    He at Erie Aldhelme with grete force did flynge 505
    An heavie javlyn, made for bloudie wounde,
    Alonge his sheelde askaunte the same did ringe,
    Peered thro the corner, then stuck in the grounde;
    So when the thonder rauttles in the skie,
  Thro some tall spyre the shaftes in a torn clevis flie. 510

    Then Addhelm hurld a croched javlyn stronge,
    With mighte that none but such grete championes know;
    Swifter than thoughte the javlyn past alonge,
    Ande hytte the Scot most feirclie on the prowe;
    His helmet brasted at the thondring blowe, 515
    Into his brain the tremblyn javlyn steck;
    From eyther syde the bloude began to flow,
    And run in circling ringlets rounde his neck;
    Down fell the warriour on the lethal strande,
  Lyke some tall vessel wreckt upon the tragick sande. 520

  CONTINUED.

    Where fruytlefs heathes and meadowes cladde in greie,
    Save where derne hawthornes reare theyr humble heade,
    The hungrie traveller upon his waie
    Sees a huge desarte alle arounde hym spredde,
    The distaunte citie scantlie to be spedde, 525
    The curlynge force of smoke he sees in vayne,
    Tis too far distaunte, and hys onlie bedde
    Iwimpled in hys cloke ys on the playne,
    Whylste rattlynge thonder forrey oer his hedde,
  And raines come down to wette hys harde uncouthlie bedde. 530