Wist my brethren in this houre,
That I was sett in such a stoure,[85]
They would pray for me."
This wicked beast that wrought this woe,
Tooke that rape from the other two,
And then they fled all three;
They fled away by Watling-street,
They had no succour but their feet,
It was the more pity.
The feild it was both lost and wonne,[86]