650 
More Reliques of Rowley. 
Yet huge wuld be the waiments ov her griefe 
Yif to the queene fyke propofe I didde bare— 
The howfbond ov her youthe fhe haldeth liefe. 
Mefeemes fhe doth begaze with meltynge ftare 
Her weddynge-bedde, hynceforthe anodhers fhare. 
Her flotrie hayre bedreint in teares fhe rends, 
To alle the folke fhe loudelie telles her gare, 
Vengeaunce fhe cries—unthankful me the fhends— 
Unethe warte thou areedit : mie nope fo themrynge ends. 
Fleng ifhr 
Vif thou forflegge mie doughterre; and defpize 
Fhe fykerneffe mie hylfe fiul lend thie trone; , 
Within an houre dhie bofte thul be mie prize. 
Mie foldyerres pant for conteke everychone. 
Lyche leaves bie bitynge blaftcs of winter ftrone, 
Youre carcafes fhui fcatter alle the hethe, 
Fowles gnawe youre fcthe, and unweeres bleche youre bone, 
Few Jevyn-brondes conftrayne hwole foreties fmethe, 
Tho few, enowe we be to winne the oaken wrethe- 
Wortigerne. 
Faire Peece, go hyde thee mne the ocyane ownde, 
Here mayft thou kem ne mo thie glytteraund hayre, 
Ne trayle on flowerie walkes thie golden gownde.— 
His burled heafid Warre uplyftes in ayre, 
His lemie bronde doth thro the welkin glayre, 
Lyche midnight lowe yatte creftes the northerne cloude, 
The feelde giees barreyne where his fleppes fare, 
Behynde his fheelde gaunt Honger yelleth loude, 
- And blew-yfpeckled Pefte his gaberdyne dothe fhroude. 
Rowene cometh 
in, and unto 
Hengifi prefent- 
Be fhe fayeth,. 
Mie clemmed herte mofte weepe in teares ov bloode.— 
¥s there no waie ?—But thou fhult be contente : 
Warre thou fhult have: dhie pryde fhul be wythftoode, 
And the redde curteyne ov dnie boaftynge rente.— 
Ah wherefor was this aungel femblaunt fente 
To ftint the greeynge angerre ov mie brefte ? | 
The frowninge ov mie browe the hath unbent. 
Mie uncle bade me bring him dhie behefte 
¥ffe for the joies ov ftryfe dhie liegemen fhul be drefte- 
Hengzifi. 
Yi ortigerié. 
Eche in his heavie yron garbe be dyghte. 
Let the dred flughornes braie; and on the hylle 
The fkaldes arowe to {welle the fong of fyghte. 
No: fro thofe lippes fhul fare no fowne of ylle. 
Saye yatte mie wythes to dhie fadherres wylle 
Are link with flowerie rwift. So dhou be fayne 
All joyes in one mie brimmed fouie fulfylle. 
Let her to Merlyn and her kyndred playne— 
Theire mighte I fcorne : for dhee alle evy! I darrayne- 
Hor/a. 
Hengi/i. 
ENDE OV THE FIRST DEEDE. 
THE breath of thending Cluthaline, I weene, 
Ayen this kynge of ofyer hath ybent. 
He biddes thee do dhie wyrfte. > 
: Then Scathe and Teene 
With giaunt-ftalke fhul thro his londe be fent, 
