My strength halfe spoylde, the rest wounded and wearie,[1259]
His campe was comne vnwares within my sight,
There was no hope to flee by day nor night:
I Harold then, a haraude sent in haste,
To know whither the duke his campe[1260] had plaste.
12.
He sent me woord, my yfs and ands were vaine,
And that he knewe the driftes of my delay,
For which he sayde he woulde yet once agayne
Make trial, who shoulde beare the crowne away: