Thurghe the birre of his bowe & his big Arme,
Mony woundit the wegh to þe wale dethe,
Line 7736
And myche greuit the grekes with his grym fare.
THE DETHE OF POLEXENAS BY ECTOR SLAYNE.
Ector faght in the fild felle of his Enmys.
Polexenas, a pert Duke, þat þe prinse met,
He dang to the dethe with his derfe weppon,
Line 7740
And wonderfully wroght in his wild yre.
This orribell archer so angardly wroght,
Renyng thurgh the route with his roid arowes,
With the Troiens so tore, tydé men alse,
Line 7744
That myche greuit the grekes, gird hom abacke.
Then flagh all in fere, and the fild leuyt;
Turnyt to þere tenttes, tariet no lengur.
Thaire Enmys hom after angardly sore,
Line 7748
Pursuet hom with pyne, put hom to ground.
There it felle hom by fortune a ferfull cas!
As þis mysshapon mon marrit of þe grekes,
The Troiens in the tenttes tenyt hom also,
Line 7752
Oppressit hom with payne & with pale strokes.
Diamede, the derfe kyng, þat don was to flight,
Presit to a pauilyon the pepull before,
Wold haue wonen away & of woche p st,
Line 7756
And haue sauet hym selfe, & he so might.
There met hym þis Mawhown, þat was so mysshap,
Euyn forne in his face, as he fle wold.
He myght no wise away for wothe of his dethe,
Line 7760
But auther aunter vppon hym, or angardly moue. [folio 120b]
He se his fomen so felle and fuerse at his backe,
Þat wold lelly the lede out of lyue bryng;
And if he turnyt hade tyte, þen hym tyde shuld,
Line 7764
The warlagh with a wicked arowe woundit hym behynd.
He auntrid on this Vnbest angardly fast.
