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OR, EDOM O' GORDON. 151
" I will not geve over my hous," she saithe,
" Not for feare of my lyffe; It shal be talked throughout the land,
The slaughter of a wyffe. «
" Fetch me. my pestilett,
And charge me my gonne, That I may shott at the bloddy butcher,
The lord of Easter-towne."
She styfly stod on her castle-wall, «
And lett the pellettes flee, She myst the blody bucher,
And slew other three.
" I will not geve over my hous," she saithe, " Netheir for lord nor lowne, »
Nor yet for traitour Captaine Care, The lord of Easter-towne.
" I desire of Captaine Care,
And all his bloddye band, That he would save my eldest sonne, s>
The eare of all my lande."
" Lap him in a shete," he sayth, ■
" And let him downe to me, And I shall take him in my armes,
His waran wyll I be." eo |
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