No refuge nor escape can now be found.
If so ye mean to die in open fray,
And leave us here forsaken in these lands,
To foul dishonour and to death a prey,
Then first within our bosoms sheathe your brands;
For this were better far in every wise,
Than see us outraged in the foemen's hands.
I am resolved, so far as in me lies,
And fixed in this resolve I mean to dwell:
To die at last where'er my husband dies.