I wil not cease, tyll I reuenge haue seene,
And them destroyed with dreadful diery dent
Of wrathful warre, and therefore now I meane
To byd the bace, and fetch them from their denne.
To sende them woorde, we owe no tribute we,
But we of them must recompenced be.
13.
I to the gods, which rule the rolling skyes,
Haue bowde a bowe, for countreye’s lybertie,
To die in feelde, or els that these mine eyes