For many 'mongst the rest being wounded sore, Rising againe, to shun their timelesse graue, Their fainting browes aboue the billowes bore, And when their lips did ouerlooke the waue, For helpe cri’d out their loued liues to saue: But they, alas, made weake, with losse of blood, Sinking, poore soules, were strangled in the flood. 86. To wreake such harmes with sharpned arrowes store, Steele-headed iauelins, stones and singing darts, We charg’d the bold defendants on the shore, Which did impresse deepe wounds in their best harts, And made the rest retire t’escape such smarts, From whom our men the firme land hauing won, ’Twixt them and vs a dreadfull fight begun. 87. Where noble _Anguisell_ the Scotish king, Amidd’st the foes in fight incircled round, Did in our cause endure death’s fatall sting: And valiant _Cador_ after many a wound, Did sinke downe dead vpon the flowrie ground: Whom my deare _Gawin_ did consort in death, And in our right, with them expir’d his breath. 88. For making slaughter with his mightie lance Vpon the aduerse troopes, though many a band Inclos’d him from all helpe, where he by chance Was wounded by a fatall souldier’s hand, Yet ’gainst them all alone he made his stand, And with his life halfe spent in their despight, Did make retreate vnto his tent from fight. 89. Where through his wound, before his life did fleet, These words hee spake vnto the standers by, “With sad farewell my soueraigne I doe greet, In whose defence against his foes, though I In death triumphant ouer death do die, Yet brother’s treason wounds my heart with woe, For which with griefe vnto my graue I goe. 90. Yee powers of heauen, on whose dispose diuine The gift of conquest doth depend alone, Let our dread king in battaile victor shine Against his foes, let traytors falling grone Beneath his sword, that do aspire his throne: But cease my words, death doth my breath exhale, Adue my liege, I die, my life doth faile.” 91. This said, he slept in death, yet neuer sleepes The fame of his admired loyaltie, Seal’d with his blood, record for euer keepes, His name a mirror of true constancie To his liege lord for all posteritie: For vnto us he in true loyall loue Gainst nature’s selfe to death did constant proue. 92.