the Bishopp of Durham spoke on hye
that both partyes might heare,
“be of good cheere, my merrymen all,
the Scotts flyen,[19] & changen there cheere!”
but as thé saidden, soe thé didden,
they fell on heapes hye;
our Englishmen laid on with their bowes
as fast as they might dree.
The King of Scotts in a studye stood
amongst his companye,
an arrow stoke him thorrow the nose
& thorrow his armorye.
The King went to a marsh side
& light beside his steede,
and leaned him down on his sword hilt,
to let his nose bleede.
there followed him a yeoman of merry England,
his name was John of Coplande;
“yeeld thee Traytor!” saies Coplande then,
“thy liffe lyes in my hand.”
“how shold I yeeld me?” sayes the King,
“& thou art noe gentleman.”
“noe, by my troth,” sayes Copland there,
“I am but a poore yeoman;”
“what art thou better then I, Sir King?
tell me if that thou can!
what art thou better then I, Sir King,
now we be but man to man?”
the King smote angerly at Copland then,
angerly in that stonde;
& then Copland was a bold yeoman,
& bore the King to the ground.
he sett the King upon a Palfrey,
himselfe upon a steede,
he tooke him by the bridle rayne,
towards London he can[20] him Lead.
& when to London that he came,
the King from ffrance was new come home.
& there unto the King of Scottes
he sayd these words anon,