Both with spear, byll, and brande;
Yt was a myghti sight to se;
Hardyar men both off hart nar hande
Wear not in Christiantè.
The wear twenty hondrith spear-men good,
Withowtè any fayle;
The wear borne along be the watter a Twyde,
Yth bowndes of Tividale.
"Leave off the brytlyng of the dear," he sayde,
"And to your bowys lock ye tayk good heed;
For never sithe ye wear on your mothars borne
Had ye never so mickle need."
The dougheti Dogglas on a stede
He rode aft his men beforne;
His armor glytteryde as dyd a glede;
A bolder barne was never born.
"Tell me what men ye ar," he says,
"Or whos men that ye be:
Who gave youe leave to hunte in this Chyviat chays,
In the spyt of me?"
The first mane that ever him an answear mayd,
Yt was the good lord Persè:
We wyll not tell the what men we ar," he says,
"Nor whos men that we be;
But we wyll hount hear in this chays,
In the spyt of thyne and of the.
"The fattiste hartes in all Chyviat
We have kyld, and cast to carry them a-way:
"Be my troth," sayd the doughtè Dogglas agayn,
"Ther-for the ton of us shall de this day."
Then sayd the doughtè Doglas
Unto the lord Persè:
"To kyll all thes giltles men,
Alas, it were great pitte!
"But, Persè, thowe art a lord of lande,
I am a yerle callyd within my contrè;
Let all our men uppone a parti stande,
And do the battell off the and of me."
"Nowe Cristes cors on his crowne," sayd the lord Persè,
"Whosoever ther-to says nay;
Be my troth, doughtè Doglas," he says,
"Thow shalt never se that day.