8.
This finde I true, for as I lay in stale,
To fight with[1062] duke Richard’s eldest son,
I was destroyde not far[1063] from Dintingdale,
For as I would my gorget haue vndon
To euent[1064] the heat that had mee nigh vndone,
An headles arrow strake mee through the throte,
Where through my soule forsooke his fylthy cote.[1065]
9.
Was this a chaunce? no sure, God’s iust awarde,