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The begane in Chyviat the hyls above

Yerly on a monnyn day;
Be that it drewe to the oware off none

A hondrith fat hartes ded there lay.

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The blewe a mort uppone the bent,

The semblyd on sydis shear;
To the quyrry then the Persè went

To se the bryttlynge off the deare.


He sayd, It was the Duglas promys

This day to meet me hear;
But I wyste he wold faylle verament:

A gret oth the Persè swear.

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At the laste a squyar of Northombelonde
Lokyde at his hand full ny,

40 He was war ath the doughetie Doglas comynge:

With him a myghtè meany,

Both with spear, byll,' and brande:

Yt was a myghti sight to se. Hardyar men both off hart nar hande

Wear not in Christiantè.


The wear twenty hondrith spear-men good

Withouten any fayle;

V. 31, blwe a mot. P.C. V. 42, myghtte, P.C. passim. V. 43, brylly. P.c. V. 48, withowte ... feale. P.C.

The wear borne a-long be the watter a Twyde,

Yth bowndes of Tividale.

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Leave off the brytlyng of the dear, he sayde,

And to your bowys tayk good heed;
For never sithe ye wear on your mothars borne

Had ye never so mickle need.


The dougheti Dogglas on a stede

He rode att his men beforne;
His armor glytteryde as dyd a glede;

A bolder barne was never born.


Tell me what’ men ye ar, he

says, Or whos men that ye be: Who gave youe

leave to hunte in this Chyviat chays in the spyt of me?

The first mane that ever him an answear mayd,

Yt was the good lord Persè :
We wyll not tell the what men we ar, he says, 65

Nor whos men that we be;
But we wyll hount hear in this chays

In the spyte of thyne, and of the.

The fattiste hartes in all Chyviat
We have kyld, and cast to carry them


70 Be my troth, sayd the doughtè Dogglas agayn,

Ther-for the ton of us shall de this day,
V.52, boys look ye tayk. P.C. V.54, ned. p.c. V.59, whos.

V. 65, whoys. P.C. V. 71, agay. P.C.


Then sayd the doughtè Doglas

Unto the lord Persè:
To kyll all thes giltles men,

A-las! it wear great pittè.


But, Persè, thowe art a lord of lande,
I am a yerle callyd within

my contre; Let all our men uppone a parti stande;

And do the battell off the and of me.


Nowe Cristes cors on his crowne, sayd the lord Persè,

Who-soever ther-to says nay.
Be my troth, doughtè Doglas, he says,

Thow shalt never se that day;

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Nethar in Ynglonde, Skottlonde, nar France,

Nor for no man of a woman born, But and fortune be my chance,

I dar met him on man for on.

Then bespayke a squyar off Northombarlonde,
Ric. Wytharynton* was his nam;

90 It shall never be told in Sothe-Ynglonde, he says,

To kyng Herry the fourth for sham.

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V. 81, says the the. P.C. V. 88, on i, e. one. * This is probably corrupted in the MS. for Rog. Widdrington, who was at the head of the family in the reign of K. Edw. III. There were several successively of the names of Roger and Ralph, but none of the name of Richard, as appears from the genealogies in the Herald's office.


I wat youe byn great lordes twa,

I am a poor squyar of lande;
I wyll never se my captayne fyght on a fylde, 95

And stande my-selffe, and looke on,
But whyll I may my weppone welde

I wyll not · fayl’ both harte and hande.

That day, that day, that dredfull day:
The first FIT* here I fynde.

100 And you wyll here any mor athe hountyng

athe Chyviat,
Yet ys ther mor behynde.


THE Yngglishe men hade ther bowys yebent,

Ther hartes were good yenoughe;
The first of arros that the shote off,

Seven skore spear-men the sloughe.


Yet bydys the yerle Doglas uppon the bent,

A captayne good yenoughe,
And that was sene verament,

For he wrought hom both woo and wouche.

The Dogglas pertyd his ost in thre,
Lyk a cheffe cheften off pryde,

10 V. 93, twaw. PC.

V. 101, youe. . . . hountyng. PC. V. 3, first, i.e. flight. V. 5, byddys. Pc.

FIT, vide Gloss.

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With suar speares off myghttè tre

The cum in on every syde.

Thrughe our Yngglishe archery

Gave many a wounde full wyde;
Many a doughete the garde to dy,

Which ganyde them no pryde.


The Yngglyshe men let thear bowys be,

And pulde owt brandes that wer bright;
It was a hevy syght to se

Bryght swordes on basnites lyght.


Thorowe ryche male, and myne-ye-ple

Many sterne the stroke downe streght:
Many a freyke, that was full free,

Ther undar foot dyd lyght.


At last the Duglas and the Persè met,

Lyk to captayns of myght and mayne;
The swapte togethar tyll the both swat

With swordes, that wear of fyn myllàn.

Thes worthè freckys for to fyght
Ther-to the wear full fayne,

30 Tyll the bloode owte off thear basnetes sprente,

As ever dyd heal or rayne.

V. 17, boys. PC.
V. 22, done. Pc.
V. 32, ran. PC.

V. 18, briggt. Pc.
V. 26, to, i.e. two.

V. 21, throrowe. PC.
Ibid. and of, Pc.

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