thatts a
wommanne
cries.
Thomas Chatterton - Rowley Poems
BIRTHA.
Holpe, holpe, yee seynctes! oh thatte mie blodde was spylte! 1060
CELMONDE.
The seynctes att distaunce stonde ynn tyme of nede.
Strev notte to goe; thou canste notte, gyff thou wylte.
Unto mie wysche bee kinde, & nete alse hede.
BIRTHA.
No, foule bestoykerre, I wylle rende the ayre,
Tylle dethe do staie mie dynne, or somme kynde roder heare. 1065
Holpe! holpe! oh godde!
CELMONDE, BIRTHA, HURRA, DANES.
HURRA.
Ah!
thatts a wommanne cries.
I kenn hem; saie, who are you, yatte bee theere?
CELMONDE.
Yee hyndes, awaie! orre bie thys swerde yee dies.
HURRA.
Thie wordes wylle ne mie hartis sete affere.
BIRTHA.
Save mee, oh! save mee from thys royner heere! 1070
HURRA.
Stonde thou bie mee; nowe saie thie name & londe;
Or swythyne schall mie swerde thie boddie tare.
CELMONDE.
Bothe I wylle shewe thee bie mie brondeous[116] honde.
HURRA.
Besette hym rounde, yee Danes.
