MATER.
There is no hope left in my breast
To bring my son into better rest:
He will do nothing at my request;
He regardeth me no more than a beast.
I see no remedy; but still I will pray
To God my son to guide in his way;
That he may have a prosperous journeying,
And to be safe at his returning.
Son, God above grant this my oration
That, when in battle thou shalt have concertation
With your enemies, other far or near,
No wound in them nor in you may appear,
So that ye nother kill nor be killed.