If that any of us to hem had ben a frende,
And a savyd any lyff aȝen thi mekyl myght, —
ffrom deth hem to flytt.
Herodes Rex. Amonges alle that grett rowthte
He is ded, I have no dowte,
Therfore, menstrelle, rownd abowte
Blowe up a mery fytt.
Hic dum buccinant mors interficiat Herodem et duos milites subito, et diabolus recipiat eos,
Diabolus. Alle oure! alle oure! this catel is myn!
I xalle hem brynge onto my celle!