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‘Sadok,’ seyd Segyn, ‘lete me be,
Wiþ gode loue y pray þe;
Wiþ þe to justi haue y no wille,
For y þe loue, and þat is skille,
& to eken þat þou art mi lordes nevou:
His soster sone so artow;
Unworþschip it wer to me
Ȝif y schuld iusti wiþ þe.
Ac go in, and arme þe snelle,
And y com anon, y nil nouȝt duelle.’
Seyd Sadok, ‘to arwe artow,
When ones justi no darstow now.
Now ichil þe for a couward held,
& for a kniȝt vnwrast in feld:
Bot þou wilt wiþ me justi,
Ichil þe don a vilani.
Hennes forward war þe fro me,
Þi dedliche fo ichil now be!’
Now Sadok smot to Segyn,
& nothing he no spared him;
Sadok toforn haþ him smete
Of his scheld a quarter wiþ gret hete,
Þat he him wounded þurch þat arm,
& he him wreþed for that harm;
So strong is þat strok y-ȝiue,
Þat his helme is al to-driue.
Þe douke him wreþþed for þat smite,
& was ful wroþ, ȝe mow wele wite,
& þurch þe bodi he Sadok smot,
Þat ded he fel doun fot hot.
Wiþ þat he is out of the place y-went,
For þer was ȝiuen a sorwe-ful dent.
With him he dede þat bodi lede
Unto an abbay, and biri it dede.
Þe douke Segin anon riȝt
Into the cite of Arrascoun him haþ y-diȝt:
Þer-in he holt him soiourninge
For drede of þemperours cominge.

& when þemperour herd þis cas,
Þat his nevou y-slawe was,
Ouer al his lond his hest he bede
To com to him for grete nede.
& when þai al icomen beþ,
Þe douke of Lowayn he sege deþ;
No wil he neuer þennes come,
Er the douke be ded or nome.’