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6. "Now we have haryed all Bamborowe schyre,
All the welth in the world have wee;
I rede we ryde to Newe Castell,
So styll and stalworthlye."

7. Upon the morowe, when it was day,

The standerds schone fulle bryght;
To the Newe Castell they toke the waye,
And thether they cam fulle ryght.

8. Syr Henry Perssy laye at the New Castell,
I tell yow wythowtten drede; '
He had byn a march-man all hys dayes,
And kepte Barwyke upon Twede.

9. To the Newe Castell when they cam,
The Skottes they cryde on hyght,
"Syr Hary Perssy, and thow byste within,
Com to the fylde, and fyght.

10. "For we have brente Northom berlonde, Thy erytage good and ryght,

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11. Syr Harry Perssy cam to the walles, The Skottyssch oste for to se,

And sayd, "And thow hast brente Northomberlond,

Full sore it rewyth me.

12. "Yf thou hast haryed all Bamborowe schyre, Thow hast done me grete envye; 1

For the trespasse thow hast me done,
The tone of us schall dye."

13. "Where schall I byde the ?" sayd the Dowglas,
"Or where wylte thow com to me?"
"At Otterborne, in the hygh way,

Ther mast thow well logeed be.

14. "The roo full rekeles ther sche rinnes,
To make the game and glee;

The fawken and the fesaunt both,
Amonge the holtes on hye.

15. "Ther mast thow have thy welth at wyll,
Well looged ther mast be;

Yt schall not be long or I com the tyll,"
Sayd Syr Harry Perssye.

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20. A Skottysshe knyght hoved upon the bent,' A wache I dare well saye;

So was he ware on the noble Perssy
In the dawnyng of the daye.

21. He prycked to hys pavyleon dore,
As faste as he myght ronne;
Awaken, Dowglas," cryed the knyght,
"For Hys love that syttes in trone.

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33. Every man sawe that he dyd soo,
That ryall' was ever in rowght; '
Every man schoote hys horsse hym froo,
And lyght hym rowynde abowght.

34. Thus Syr Hary Perssye toke the fylde,
For soth as I yow saye;
Jhesu Cryste in hevyn on hyght

Dyd helpe hym well that daye.

35. But nyne thowzand, ther was no moo,
The cronykle wyll not layne;'
Forty thowsande of Skottes and fowre
That day fowght them agayne.

36. But when the batell byganne to joyne,
In hast ther cam a knyght;
The letters fayre furth hath he tayne,
And thus he sayd full ryght:

37. "My lorde your father he gretes yow well, Wyth many a noble knyght;

He desyres yow to byde

That he may see thys fyght.

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39. "For Jhesus love," sayd Syr Harye Perssy, "That dyed for yow and me, Wende to my lorde my father agayne,

And saye thow sawe me not with yee.*

40. "My trowth ys plyght to yonne Skottysh knyght,

It nedes me not to layne,

That I schulde byde hym upon thys bent,
And I have hys trowth agayne.

41. "And if that I weynde of thys growende,
For soth, onfowghten awaye,

He wolde me call but a kowarde knyght
In hys londe another daye.

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42. "Yet had I lever to be rynde and rente,
By Mary, that mykkel maye,"
Then ever my manhood schulde be reprovyd
Wyth a Skotte another daye.

43. "Wherefore schote, archars, for my sake,
And let scharpe arowes flee;
Mynstrells, playe up for your waryson,'
And well quyt it schall bee.

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44. "Every man thynke on hys trewe-love,
And marke hym to the Trenite;
For to God I make myne avowe
Thys day wyll I not flee."

45. The blodye harte in the Dowglas armes, Hys standerde stood on hye,

That every man myght full well knowe;
By syde stode starrës thre.

46. The whyte lyon on the Ynglyssh perte,' For soth as I yow sayne,

The lucettes and the cressawntes both;
The Skottes faught them agayne.

47. Upon Sent Androwe lowde can they crye, And thrysse they schowte on hyght,3

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And syne merked them one owr Ynglysshe

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60. The yerlle of Mentaye he was slayne,
Grysely groned upon the growynd;
Syr Davy Skotte, Syr Water Stewarde,
Syr Jhon of Agurstoune.

61. Syr Charllës Morrey in that place,
That never a fote wold flee;
Syr Hewe Maxwell, a lord he was,
Wyth the Dowglas dyd he dye.

62. Ther was slayne upon the Skottës syde,
For soth as I yow saye,

Of fowre and forty thowsande Scottes
Went but eyghtene awaye.

63. Ther was slayne upon the Ynglysshe syde, For soth and sertenlye,

A gentell knyght, Syr Jhon Fechewe,
Yt was the more pety.

64. Syr James Hardbotell ther was slayne, For hym ther hartes were sore;

The gentyll Lovell ther was slayne,
That the Perssys standerd bore.

65. Ther was slayne upon the Ynglyssh perte, For soth as I yow saye,

Of nyne thowsand Ynglyssh men
Fvye hondert cam awaye.

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