FITTE THE FIRSTE.
Ye men that will of aunters wynne,
That late within this lande hath bin,
Of on I will yow telle;
And of a sewe that was sea strang,
Alas! that ever scho lived sea lang,
For fell folk did scho wele. [129]
Scho was mare than other three,
The grizeliest beast that ere mote bee
Her hede was greate and graye;
Scho was bred in Rokebye woode,
Ther war few that thither yoode, [130a]
But cam belive awaye.
Her walke was endlang Greta syde,
Was no barne that colde her byde,
That was fra heven or helle; [130b]
Ne never man that had that myght,
That ever durst com in her syght,
Her force it was sea felle.
Raphe [130c] of Rokebye, with full gode wyll,
The freers of Richmonde gav her tyll,
Full wele to gar thayme fare;
Freer Myddeltone by name,
Hee was sent to fetch her hame,
Yt rewed him syne full sare.
Wyth hym tooke hee wyght men two,
Peter of Dale was on of tho,
Tother was Bryan of Beare; [130d]
Thatte wele durst strike wyth swerde and knife,
And fyght full manlie for theyr lyfe,
What tyme as musters were. [130e]
These three men wended at theyr wyll,
This wickede sewe gwhyl they cam tyll,
Liggand under a tree;
Rugg’d and rustic was her here,
Scho rase up wyth a felon fere, [131a]
To fyght agen the three.
Grizely was scho for to meete,
Scho rave the earthe up wyth her feete,
The barke cam fra’ the tree:
When Freer Myddeltone her saugh,
Wete yow wele hee list not laugh,
Full earnestful luik’d hee.
These men of auncestors [131b] were so wight,
They bound them bauldly for to fyght,
And strake at her full sare;
Until a kilne they garred her flee,
Wolde God sende thayme the victorye,
They wolde aske hym na maire.
The sewe was in the kilne hoile doone,
And they wer on the bawke aboone,
For hurting of theyr feete;
They wer sea sauted [131c] wyth this sewe,
That ’mang thayme was a stalwarth stewe,
The kilne began to reeke!