Euen as a fire supprest, if yet remaine A sparke not quite extinct, whence growes a flame, Wil soone resume his former strength againe: Euen so _Canutus_ power, which I did tame, And with one blow might then haue queld the same, Resum’d proud strength, which little time did yeeld, And oft times after brau’d me in the field. 48. The bainfull’st battaile we did euer fight, At Scorstan was, in fruitfull Worstershire, Where vnto both the hosts in open sight Duke _Edrick’s_ treason plainly did appeare, Which in his hart ’gainst me he still did beare: The heart once tainted with foule treason’s staine, Possest with guile, seldome proues true againe. 49. Two dayes in field we stood in doubtfull fight, And after mutuall wounds with equall fate, Both parts were parted by approching night: But in the next daye’s fight this traytor’s hate Did shew it selfe, for seeing the foes in state Of strength declin’d, he sought by treacherie To giue the day vnto the enemie. 50. In midst of martiall throng my folk t’excite, As I did stand in skirmish ’gainst the foe, A man of armes there was, which _Osmeare_ hight, So like to mee, that scarse you could him know, By whom this traytor sought to worke vs woe: For as in fight he stood without all dread, False _Edrick_ vndiscern’d did strike him dead. 51. Whose liuelesse lims in endlesse sleepe fast bound, After he had despoil’d and headlesse made, He tooke himselfe vnto an higher ground, And piching _Osmear’s_ head vpon his blade, He held the same on high and thus he said: “Flie, wretched countrimen, your king is dead, The day is lost, see here king _Edmund’s_ head.” 52. The suddaine horror of this vncouth sight With suddaine fright my folke did so dismay, That they which were not in that part of fight Where with my launce and sword I did display Th’extreamest of my strength to win the day, Away had fled and lost the victorie, Had I not heard of _Edrick’s_ treacherie. 53. With speed on top of an adioyning hill, My selfe I did conuey, where I in sight Of all my host thus spake with voice most shrill: “Fellowes in armes,” quoth I, “let not this slight Of traytor’s practise your bold thoughts affright: Behold yet free from death’s captiuitie, I liue to be reueng’d on th’enimie.” 54.