Kynge Edwarde and Hys Queene
Queene
Botte, loverde[145], whie so manie Normannes here?
Mee thynckethe wee bee notte yn Englyshe londe.
These browded[146] straungers alwaie doe appere,
Theie parte yor trone[147], and sete at your ryghte honde.
Kynge
Go to, goe to, you doe ne understonde:
Theie yeave mee lyffe and dyd mie bowkie[148] kepe;
Theie dyd mee feeste, and did embowre[149] me gronde;
To trete hem ylle wulde lette mie kyndnesse slepe.
Queene
Mancas[150] you have yn store, and to them parte;
Youre leege-folcke[151] make moke[152] dole[153], you have theyr worthe asterte[154].
Kynge
I heste[155] no rede of you. I ken mie friendes.
Hallie[156] dheie are, fulle ready mee to hele[157].
Theyre volundes[158] are ystorven[159] to self endes;
No denwere[160] yn mie breste I of them fele:
I muste to prayers; goe yn, and you do wele;
I muste ne lose the dutie of the daie;
Go inne, go ynne, ande viewe the azure rele[161],
Fulle welle I wote you have noe mynde toe praie.
Queene
I leeve youe to doe hommage heaven-were[162];
To serve yor leege-folcke toe is doeynge hommage there.