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' And you shal be a harper, brother,
Out of the north countrye, And He be your boy, soe faine of fighte,
And beare your harpe by your knee.
' And you shal be the best harper
That ever tooke harpe in hand, And I wil be the best singer
That ever sung in this lande.
' Itt shal be written in our forheads,
All and in grammarye, That we towe are the boldest men
That are in all Christentye.'
xlh And thus they renisht them to ryde,
Of tow good renisht steedes, And when they came to Kyng Adland's halle,
Of redd gold shone their weedes.
And whan they came to Kyng Adland's halle
Untill the fayre hall yate, There they found a proud porter,
Rearing himselfe thereatt.
Sayes, ' Christ thee save, thou proud porter.' Sayes, ' Christ thee save and see!'—
' No we you be welcome,' sayd the porter, ' Of what land soever ye bee.'