No More Learning

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.

CELMONDE.

Comme onne, and see
Gyff mie strynge anlace maie bewryen whatte I bee. 1075
[_Fyghte al anenste_ Celmonde, _meynte Danes he fleath,
and faleth to_ Hurra.

CELMONDE.

Oh! I forslagen[117] be! ye Danes, now kenne,
I amme yatte Celmonde, seconde yn the fyghte,
Who dydd, atte Watchette, so forslege youre menne;
I fele myne eyne to swymme yn aeterne nyghte;--
To her be kynde. [_Dieth_.

HURRA.

Thenne felle a wordhie knyghte. 1080
Saie, who bee you?