"Come on, come on, my lord," he sayes,
"Come on, come on, and let her bee;
There's ladyes enow in Lough-leven
For to cheere that gay ladìe."180
"If you'll not turne yourself, my lord,
Let me goe with my chamberlaine;
We will but comfort that faire lady,
And wee will return to you againe."
"Come on, come on, my lord," he sayes,185
"Come on, come on, and let her bee;
My sister is craftye, and wold beguile
A thousand such as you and mee."
"When they had sayled fifty myle,
Now fifty mile upon the sea,190
Hee sent his man to ask the Douglas,
When they shold that shooting see."
"Faire words," quoth he, "they make fooles faine,
And that by thee and thy lord is seen;
You may hap to thinke itt soone enough,195
Ere you that shooting reach, I ween."
Jamye his hatt pulled over his browe,
He thought his lord then was betray'd;
And he is to Erle Percy againe,
To tell him what the Douglas sayd.200
"Hold upp thy head, man," quoth his lord,
"Nor therefore lett thy courage fayle;
He did it but to prove thy heart,
To see if he cold make it quail."
When they had other fifty sayld,205
Other fifty mile upon the sea,
Lord Percy called to Douglas himselfe,
Sayd, "What wilt thou nowe doe with mee?"
"Looke that your brydle be wight, my lord,
And your horse goe swift as shipp att sea;210
Looke that your spurres be bright and sharpe,
That you may pricke her while shee'll away."