"I make a vow," quod Tirry, "and swere be my crede,
Saw thu never yong boy forther his body bede:
Ffor when thei fyzt fastest, and most er in drede, 120
I shalle take Tib be the hond and away hir lede.
[Then byn myn armys best:]
I ber a pilch of ermyn,
Poudert with a catt skyn;
The chefe is of pechmyn, 125
That stondis on the creste."
"I make a vow," quod Dudman, "and swere be the stra,
[Whils me ys left my mer], thu gets hir not swa.
For she is wel shapyn, as lizt as a ra;
Ther is no capull in this myle before her will ga. 130
She wil me not begyle;
[I dar sothely say,]
[She will be[re me] on Monday]
Ffro Hissiltoun to Haknay,
Nozt other halfe myle." 135
"I make a vow," quod Perkyn, "thu carpis of cold rost.
I wil wyrke wiselier without any boost.
Ffyve of the best capuls that ar in this host,
I will hem lede away be another coost:"
And then lowz Tibbe. 140
"[Weloo], boyes, here is he
That will fyzt and not fle:
Ffor I am in my jolyté:
[I go forth, Tibbe]."
When thai had thaire othes made, forth can thei [hie], 145
With flayles and harnys and trumpis made of tre.
Ther were all the bachilers of that contre:
Thei were dizt in aray, as thaim self wolde be.
Theire baner was ful bryzt,
[Off an olde raton fell;] 150
[The chefe was of a ploo-mell,]
And the schadow of a bell,
[Quarterd] with the mone lizt.
I wot it was no childer gamme when thei to geder mett,
When ilke a freke in the felde on his felow bette, 155
And leid on stifly—for no thyng wold thei lett—
And fozt ferly fast, til theyre hors swett.
And few wordis were spokyn.
[Ther were flayles al to-flaterde,]
[Ther were scheldis al to-claterde,] 160
[Bolles and disshis al to-baterde,]
And mony hedis ther were brokyn.
Ther was clenkyng of cart sadils, and clatering of cannes;
Off fel frekis in the feeld brokyn were thaire fannes;
Off sum were the hedis brokyn, of sum the brayn pannes, 165
And evel were they besene er they went thannes,
With swippyng of swipylles.
The laddis were so wery forfozt,
That thai myzt fyzt no more on loft,
But creppid aboute in the crofte, 170
As thei were crokid crypils.
Perkyn was so wery that he began to lowte:
"Helpe, Hudde, I am ded in this ilke rowte;
An hors, for forty penys, a gode and a stoute,
That I may liztly cum of [my [noye] owte. 175
Ffor no cost wil I spare."
He stert up as a snayle,
And hent a capull be the tayle,
And rauzt of Daukyn his flayle,
And wan hym a mare. 180
"Perkyn wan fyve, and Hudde wan twa.
Glad and blith thai were that thei had don sa;
Thai wolde have thaim to Tibbe, and present hir with tha;
The capuls were so wery that thei myzt not ga,
But stille can thei stonde. 185
"Alas!" quod Hud, "my joye I lese:
Me had lever then a ston of chese
That dere Tibbe had alle these,
And wist hit were my sonde."
Perkyn turnyd hym aboute in that ilke throng; 190
[He fouzt fresshly, for he had rest hym long.]
[He was war of Tirry take Tib be the hond,]
[And wold have lad hir away with a luf-song;]
[And Perkyn after ran,]
And of his capull he hym drowe, 195
And gaf hym of his flayle inowe.
Then "Te he," quod Tib, and lowe:
"Ze ar a duzty man."
Thus thai tuggat and thei ruggat, til hit was ny nyzt.
Alle the wyves of Totenham come to se that sizt, 200
[To fech home thaire husbondis that were thaym trouthe-plizt,]
[With wispys and kexis, that was a rich lizt,]
[Her husbondis home to fech.]
[And sum they had in armys,]
[That were febull wreches,] 205
[And sum on whelebarowes,]
[And sum on criches.]