That he may see thys fyght.
The baron of Grastoke ys com owt of the west,
Wyth hym a noble companye;
All they loge at your fathers thys nyght,
And the battell fayne wolde they see.
For Jesus love, sayd syr Harye Perssye,
That dyed for yow and me,
Wende to my lorde my father agayne,
And saye thow sawe me not wyth yee.
My trowth ys plyght to yonne Skottysh knyght,