Up reyse she hir axe as up he sterte
And cleved she his manhood right in tweyne.
"Ye be nat fitte to lyve, withouten herte,"
Said she, whil Walter clutch'd himself in peyne.
"Next comes yor nekke; the blood will flow like reyne!
Me liketh not to soffre as ye heste.
Yor kyngdom now is myne!" She axed his breste.