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THE BATTLE OP OTTERBOURNE. 15
They schapped together, whyll that the swette, "With swords of fyne collayne;
Tyll the bloode from ther bassonnetts ranne, As the roke doth in the rayne; 90
" Yelde the to me," sayd the Dowglas, " Or ells thow schalt be slayne.
" For I see by thy bryght bassonet,
Thow art sum man of myght; And so I do by thy burnysshed brande ; w
Thow art an yerle, or ells a knyght."
" By my good fay the," sayd the noble Percy,
" Now haste thou rede full ryght; Yet wyll I never yelde me to the,
Whyll I may stonde and fyght." 100
They swapped together, whyll that they swette,
"Wyth swordes scharpe and long; Ych on other so faste they beette,
Tyll ther helmes cam in peyses dowyn.
The Percy was a man of strenghth, 10s
I tell yow in thys stounde ; He smote the Dowglas at the swordes length,
That he felle to the growynde. |
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96. Being all in armour he could not know him.—P. |
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