ly kiss.'

Then Florence, faltering in her say,
Trembling these wordis spoke:
'Ah, cruel Edward! bloody king!
My heart is well-nigh broke.

'Ah, sweet Sir Charles, why wilt thou go
Without thy loving wife?
The cruel axe that cuts thy neck,'
It eke shall end my life.'

And now the officers came in
To bring Sir Charles away,
Who turned to his loving wife,
And thus to her did say:

'I go to life, and not to death;
Trust thou in God above,
And teach thy sons to fear the Lord,
And in their hearts Him love.

'Teach them to run the noble race
That I their father run.
Florence, should death thee take--adieu!
Ye officers, lead on.'

Then Florence raved as any mad,
And did her tresses tear;
'O stay, my husband, lord, and life!'
Sir Charles then dropped a tear.

Till tired out with raving loud,
She fell upon the floor;
Sir Charles exerted all his might,
And marched from out the door.

Upon a sledge he mounted then,
With looks full brave and sweet;
Looks that enshone no more concern
Than any in the street.

Before him went the council-men,
In scarlet robes and gold,
And tassels spangling in the sun,
Much glorious to behold:

The friars of Saint Augustine next
Appeared to the sight,
All clad in homely russet weeds,
Of godly monkish plight:

In different parts a godly psalm
Most sweetly they did chant;
Behind their back six minstrels came,
Who tuned the strange bataunt.

Then five-and-twenty archers came;
Each one the bow did bend,
From rescue of King Henry's friends
Sir Charles for to defend.

Bold as a lion came Sir Charles,
Drawn on a cloth-laid sledde,
By two black steeds in trappings white,
With plumes upon their head.

Behind him five-and-twenty more
Of archers strong and stout,
With bended bow each one in hand,
Marched in goodly rout.

Saint James's friars marched next,
Each one his part did chant;
Behind their backs six minstrels came,
Who tuned the strange bataunt.

Then came the mayor and aldermen,
In cloth of scarlet decked;
And their attending men each one,
Like eastern princes tricked.

And after them a multitude
Of citizens did throng;
The windows were all full of heads,
As he did pass along.

And when he came to the high cross,
Sir Charles did turn and say:
O Thou that savest man from sin,
Wash my soul clean this day.'

At the great minster window sat
The king in mickle state,
To see Charles Bawdin go along
To his most welcome fate.

Soon as the sledde drew ni