More Reliques of Rowley. 
Itte reweth me to have yrearde a honde 
To fave hifle cowarde liegemen fro mifhappe. 
Falle theie hynceforthe byfore the fieelie bronde 
Ov the bolde Pykkes: I joye gyf theie awhappe 
Ne long mie vengeaunce fleepes in dulle unaétions lappe. 
Forfa. 
Inne trothe ’twere betrerre gyf yleng the cofte 
Oure fpeedie fhyppes yette croifedde merrilie ; 
Daunger and toyle hadde leffe forworne our hole 
And richerre bootie inne the facke fhuld lie. 
Aletubbes and corne and hammes yheped hie 
Eire thiffe hadde ftorde our winter-hame, I weene, 
And Romayne gaudes devyfedde daintilie 
Ygladde oure wyves and daughterres wyth theire fheene, 
The modherres honeft pryde our darynge hadde bewreene. 
Eengifi. 
Hengift. 
Thefe teo had pleafaunce of tenerre ymet 
Oure luftie younglynges on thun wittynge fhore. 
Hynfe the coie mayde is fledde on warie fet. 
Where the grimme nighbourhode of warre doth lowre, 
The modherre pyghtes her in the hylfterde bowre, 
Ne ftondes the to the warryerres withe confeite 
Who clafpes her haftie inne the daungerous howre 
Fyndes in withftonden love a twyfolde zefte 
OF rofier hewe the cheeke of wermer throbbe the brefte. 
From Wortigerne hiffe unryghte I ne brooke. 
Watte faie ye, fhuln we falle uponne thefe men 
Nowe theie ygalide with fygite doen lowlie looke, 
For leéch and frere bie tornes do wend theire ken, 
And kneede theire fetherie beddes lyche neftlynge hen, 
As gyf an achynge lymbe miffeemde the grounde ? 
Thie well are worthe itte; but the foen are ten 
To one ayenft uffe. 
Dearer evrie wounde 
Whan is ywon the date yatte in oure fyde is founde. 
Whie fhuld we feare ov Brydyan honde the ftroke = 
Hath not oure doughtienefie yquellde their dredde ? 
Theire bull-oxe neckes cntooke the Romayne yoke, 
Whyle from oure wilderneffe the Latyans fledde, 
Bie mighce of Inglythe arme ydyftauncedde. 
Theire fleekie fkinnes abhorre the {carrie wem, 
Jnne milk-warme baths theie wane theire luftiehedde, 
Wyth {wotie oile theire theenie lockes theye kem, 
And fhave and fafte lyche preeftes, ne will we fhrinke fro them. 
Horfa. 
Hengifi. 
Itte merryeth me to feen em mumblynge prieres 
And mak ynge croffes affe thie trippe to warre, 
As tho the Seinktes fhuld riveiten theire geeres. 
And therfor bie oure laddes theie fcorned arre. 
Inne fighte theie feare theire countenaunce to marre 
And fkaunte the vifage fro the burledde fielde. 
Theire maydes I trowe do lothe to kiffe a fcarre, 
And wille ne fcoure a bloode-droppe fro the fhiclde, 
Yatte wyth fyche daintie wrefte the glenrie ftcele theie v. 
Hor/a. 
Itte moveth alle mie glee to werke the wo 
Cv thefe trymme trecherres for theire lefynge bafe. 
Calle forthe oure foldyerres. 
Hengift hafte ne fo 
Blin thou thie boilynge bloodde a lyttel {pace 
The levyn-bronde ov wrathe inne battayle brace 
Butte 
