It is best now that we therfore, That we beseche the kyng of grace, That he asayle us now no more, For to dystroye us in this place; For but the Dolfyn us reskewe, This toun to delivere wyl we sikerly, Messagers thei let make newe, And to the kyng they come in hy. _Wot ye right well, &c._ The lord Gaucourt certeynly, For he was capteyn in that place, And Gilliam Bocher com hym by, And othere also bothe more and lasse; To fore the kyng whan they com was, I wot they sette them on there kne; Heil comely kyng, thei seyde, in this plas, The grace of God now is with the. _Wot ye right well, &c._ Of trews we wolde beseche the, Unto it be Sounday atte non, And but it thanne reskewyd be, We shall to yow delyvere this toun: The kyng thanne seyde to them ful son I graunte you grace al this tyde, Somme of yow go forth anon, The remenaunt with me shall abyde. _Wot ye right well, &c._ The capteyn hied hym with al his myght, Unto Roon for to ryde, He wende the Dolfyn have founde there right But he was goon, durst he nought abyde. Of helpe the capteyn besowte that tyde, Harflew from us is lost for ay, The wallys ben doun on every syde, We may no longere it kepe, be God verray. _Wot ye right well, &c._ Of good counsaill I wolde yow pray, What is youre will what shall y don, Bataill us moste thene be Soneday, Or ellys delivere hym the toun. The lordys of Roon togydere gon rown, And bad he sholde the town up yelde, The kyng of Ingelond is fers as lyon, We wil noughte mete hym in the felde. _Wot ye right well, &c._ The capteyn went agen withoute lettyng, Before the kyng on kneys gan fall, Heyl, he seyde, comely kyng, Most worthy prynce in this world riall, Here y have brought yow the keyes alle, Of Harflew that faire toun, All is youre owne both towr and halle, At your will Lord and at your croun. _Wot ye right well, &c._ I thanke God, thann eseyde oure kyng, And Mary his modir that is so fre; Myn uncle Dorset withoute lettyng, Capteyn of Harflewe schall ye be. And al that is in that toun, Wot stille shall abyde, To maken up that is adoun, That hath ben fellyd on every syde. _Wot ye right well, &c._ Meyne, I now shall with yow ride, To se the toun there overall, Wyff no child lett non abyde, But have them ought bothe grete and small; And let stuffe the toun overall, With Englysshmen thereinne to be. They left no Frenssh blod withinne the wall, But hadde all oute the comunalte. _Wot ye right well, &c._ Four hundred women and children men myght se, Whanne they wenten out sore gon they wepe; The grete gonnes engynes to the trewle, They were brought into Harflete, Oure kyng unto the castell yede, And restyd hym there as his will was Sire, he seyde, so God me spede To Caleys warde I thenke to pas _Wot ye right well that thus it was, Gloria tibi Trinitas._ PASSUS SECUNDUS.