And they shott out and they shott in,
Till it was fairly day
When many of the Englishmen
About the draw brigg lay.
Then they hae yoked carts and wains
To ca’ their dead away
And shot auld dykes aboon the lave
In gutters where they lay
The king in his pavilion door
Was heard aloud to say
Last night three o’ the lads o’ France
My standard stole away
Wi’ a fause tale disguis’d they came
And wi’ a fauser train
And to regain my gaye standard
These men were a’ down slaine
It ill befits the youngest said
A crowned king to lie
But or that I taste meat and drink,
Reproved shall he be.
He went before King Edward straight
And kneel’d low on his knee
I wad hae leave my liege he said,
To speak a word wi’ thee
The king he turn’d him round about
And wistna what to say
Quo’ he, Man, thou’s hae leave to speak
Though thou should speak a day.
You said that three young lads o’ France,
Your standard stole away
Wi’ a fause tale and fauser train,
And mony men did slay
But we are nane the lads o’ France
Nor e’er pretend to be
We are three lads o’ fair Scotland,
Auld Maitlen’s sons a’ three
Nor is there men in a your host,
Dare fight us three to three
Now by my sooth young Edward cry’d,
Weel fitted sall ye be!