Nature’s affect leuel’d by rule of reason, The due respect of common good doth binde Gainst nature’s selfe, and when the hand of treason Inuades the state of kings, the noble minde To shun the taint of blood ’gainst their owne kinde, Aduerse in nature seeme, that loue to showe, Which first to care of common good they owe. 93. Which this illustrate knight in hart did keepe, And with his blood in death did seale the same: Which when I heard sad sorrowe seated deepe In my grieu’d hart my thoughts did so inflame, That on the foes I rusht with loud exclame, And with heroicke wreake my harte’s true loue To my deare _Gawin_ dead, I did approue. 94. In our reuenge such slaughter we did make With furious onset on the aduerse part, That vnto flight themselues they did betake, Nor durst the brest that bore the boldest hart Stand forth ’gainst vs to shake his threatning dart: False traytor’s hearts the coward’s feare doth feele, Nor can an edge be set vpon their steele. 95. The Saxon _Cerdicus_ and _Mordred_ both Confederates in this treason ’gainst our state, Did flie t’escape the meed of their vntroth, Whom we did fast pursue with deadly hate From place to place, vntill vntimely fate Did by one battell shut vp all our strife In _Mordred’s_ death, and losse of my deare life. 96. A second field at Winchester we won, Where many foes in fight were stricken dead, 'Mongst whom false _Mordred_ his blacke death did shun, Who with his friends although from field he fled: Yet t’hazard fortune once more he made hed, And on a plaine by Glastenburie towne, Fatall to all this land his tents pight downe. 97. Whom I as one, that of his owne accord Had sought to hasten death in armes bedight, In person follow’d with reuengefull sword, To shew my selfe as well the first in fight, As first in name, though with respectiue right To common good, whose state depended then Vpon my life: I might haue absent ben; 98. Yet could not this disswade me from the field, But in the morne when as the daie’s bright king The mountaine tops with golden shine did gild, No sooner did the warlike trumpet sing Warre’s fearfull song, the sound of which did ring About my eares, but rous’d from rest I rose, And arm’d me for the field to meet my foes. 99.