At the laste a squyar of Northombelonde
Lokyde at his hand full ny;40
He was war [a' the] doughetie Doglas comynge,
With him a myghttè meany;
Both with spear, [byll], and brande;
Yt was a myghti sight to se;
Hardyar men, both off hart nar hande,45
Wear not in Christiantè.
The wear twenty hondrith spear-men good,
Withowtè any feale;
The wear borne along be the watter a Twyde,
"Leave of 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 ned."
The dougheti Dogglas on a stede55
He rode att his men beforne;
His armor glytteryde as dyd a glede;
A bolder barne was never born.
"Tell me whos men ye ar," he says,
"Or whos men that ye be:60
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 whoys men we ar," he says,65
"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:"70
"Be my troth," sayd the doughtè Dogglas [agayn],
"Ther-for the ton of us shall de this day."