Upon the grounde he lay full styll ;
And or he myght up aryse,
On his fete to stonde,
He smote of the sheryves hede,
With his bryght bronde.
“Lye thou there, thou proud sheryf,
Evyll mote thou thryve ;
There myght no man to the trust,
The whyles thou were alyve.”
His men drewe out theyr bryght swerdes,