26.4 ‘brest,’ burst, was broken.
Cloudeslee bente a wel good bowe,
That was of trusty tre,
He smot the justise on the brest,
That hys arowe brest in thre.
27.
‘God’s curse on his hart,’ saide William,
‘Thys day thy cote dyd on!
If it had ben no better then myne,
It had gone nere thy bone.’