"What makes you be so sad, my lord,
And in your mind so sorrowfullye?
To-morrow a shootinge will bee held
Among the lords of the North countrye.
"The butts are sett, the shooting's made,45
And there will be great royaltye;
And I am sworne into my bille,
Thither to bring my Lord Percye."
"I'll give thee my hand, thou gentle Douglas,
And here by my true faith," quoth hee,50
"If thou wilt ryde to the worldes end
I will ryde in thy companye."
And then bespake a lady faire,
Mary à Douglas was her name;
"You shall byde here, good English lord,55
My brother is a traiterous man.
"He is a traitor stout and stronge,
As I tell you in privitie;
[For he hath tane liverance of the erle,]
Into England nowe to 'liver thee."60
"Now nay, now nay, thou goodly lady,
The regent is a noble lord:
Ne for the gold in all Englànd
The Douglas wold not break his word.
"When the regent was a banisht man,65
With me he did faire welcome find;
And whether weal or woe betide,
I still shall find him true and kind.
"Between England and Scotland it wold breake truce,
And friends againe they wold never bee,70
If they shold 'liver a banisht erle,
Was driven out of his own countrie."
"Alas! alas! my lord," she sayes,
"Nowe mickle is their traitorie;
Then lett my brother ryde his wayes,75
And tell those English lords from thee,