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Grea-hondes thorowe the grèves glent
The begane in Chyviat the hyls above
Be that it drewe to the oware' off none
The blewe a mort uppone the bent,
He sayd, It was the Duglas promys
But I wyste he wold faylle verament:
At the laste a squyar of Northombelonde
He was war ath the doughetie Doglas comynge:
Both with spear, byll,10 and brande: "1
Hardyar men both off hart nar hande
Were not in Christiantè.
The wear twenty hondrith spear-men good
The wear borne a-long be the watter a Twyde,
Leave off the brytlyng of the dear, he sayde,
The dougheti Dogglas on a stede
He rode att his men beforne;
Tell me 'what' men ye ar, he says,
Who gave youe leave to hunte in this
• Aware. 10 Battle-axe. 11 Sword. 12 In the.
18 A red-not som
The first mane that ever him an answear mayd,
We wyll not tell the 'what' men we ar, he says,
But we wyll hount hear in this chays
In the spyte of thyne, and of the.
The fattiste hartes in all Chyviat
We have kyld, and cas: 14 to carry them a-way.
Then sayd the doughtè Doglas
Unto the lord Persè:
To kyll all thes giltless men,
But, Persè, thowe art a lord of lande,
Now Cristes cors on his crowne, sayd the lord Persè,
Be my troth, doughtè Doglas, he says,
Nethar in Ynglonde. Skottlonde, nar France,
Nor for no man of a woman born,
But and fortune be my chance,
I dar met him on man for on.
Then bespayke a squyar off Northombarlonde,
1 wat" youe byn 18 great lordes twaw,
I will never se my captayne fyght on a fylde,
I wyll not 'fayl' both harte and hande.
That day, that day, that dredfull day;
And youe wyll here any mor athe hountyng athe Chyviat
THE SECOND FIT.
The Yngglishe men hade ther bowys yebent,
The hartes were good yenoughe;
The first of arros that the shote off,
Yet bydys the yerle Doglas uppon the bent
And that was sene verament,
For he wrought hom both woo and wouche."
The Dogglas pertyd his ost in thre,
Thrughe our Yngglishe archery
The Yngglishe men let thear bowys be,
And pulde owt brandes that wer bright;
Bryght swordes on basnites 25 lyght.
Thorowe ryche male, and myne-ye-ple
At last the Duglas and the Persè met,
Thes worthè freckys for to fyght
Ther-to the wear full fayne,
Tyll the bloode owte off their basnites sprente,"
Thoroue lyvar and longs bathe "
The sharp arrowe ys gane,
That never after in all his lyffe days,
He spayke mo wordes but ane,
That was, Fyghte ye, my merry men whyllys " ye may,
The Persè leanyde 34 on his brande,
And sawe the Duglas de;
He tooke the dede man be the hande,
And sayd, Wo ys me for the!
To have sayvde thy lyffe I wold have pertyd" with
My landes for years thre,
For a better man of hart, nare of hande
Was not in all the north countrè.
Of all that se 37 a Skottishe knyght,
Was callyd Sir Hewe the Mongonbyrry,
He rod uppon a corsiare
Throughe a hondrith archery;
He never styntyde 40 nar never blane,"1
He set uppone the lord Persè
A dynte that was full soare;
With a suar spear of a myghtè tre
Clean thorow the body he the Persè bore,
30 Ane, one, sc. man. 86 Parted. 37 Saw.
Athe 42 tothar syde, that a man myght se,
A large cloth yard and mare:
Towe bettar captayns wear nat in Christiantè,
An archar off Northomberlonde
An arow, that a cloth yarde was lang,
The dynt yt was both sad and sar,
The swane-fethars, that his arrowe bar,“
Ther was never a freake wone foot wolde fie,
Heawying on yche othar, whyll the myght dre,
This battell begane in Chyviat
And when even song bell was rang
The battell was nat half done.
The tooke'on' on ethar hand
Of fifteen hondrith archers of Ynglonde
Of twenty hondrith spear-men of Skotlonde,