Seynt George the bryght, Our Ladye’s knyght,
To name they were full fayne;
Our English men they cry’d on hyght,
And thrice they shot agayne.
XLVIII
With that sharp arrows began to flee,
I tell you in certayne:
Men of arms began to joyne,
Many a doughty man was slayne.
XLIX
The Percy and the Douglas met
That either of other was fayne;
They swapp’d[1070] together while they swet[1071]
With swords of fyne Collayne[1072]:
L
Until the blood from their bassonets[1073] ran
As the roke[1074] doth in the rayne;
‘Yield thou to me,’ sayd the Douglas,
‘Or elles thou shall be slayne.
LI
‘For I see by thy bryght bassonet
Thou art some man of myght:
And so I do by thy burnysh’d brand,
Thou’rt an earl or elles a knyght.’