Sum in the feld fellit is in ſwoñ,
[3300] Throw ſum his ſuerd goith to the ſadill doune.
His fois waren abaſit of his dedis,
His mortell ſtrok ſo gretly for to dred Is;
When his foes see him, they leave the place for dread of death.
Whar thai hyme ſaw, within a lytall ſpace,
[3304] For dreid of ded, thai levyng hyme the place,
That many o ſtrok ful oft he haith forlorñ;
The ſpedy horß away the knycht hath borñ.
In to his wyrking neuermore he ſeſt,