Shee sent one after kyng Estmere In all the spede might bee, That he must either turne againe and fighte, Or goe home and loose his ladye. One whyle then the page he went, Another while he ranne; Tull he had oretaken king Estmere, I wis, he never blanne. Tydings, tydings, kyng Estmere! What tydinges nowe, my boye? O tydinges I can tell to you, That will you sore annoye. You had not ridden scant a mile, A mile out of the towne, But in did come the kyng of Spayne With kempès many a one: But in did come the kyng of Spayne With manye a bold barone, Tone daye to marrye king Adlands daughter, Tother daye to carry her home. My ladye fayre she greetes you well, And ever-more well by mee: You must either turne againe and fighte, Or goe home and loose your ladyè. Saies, Reade me, reade me, deere brother, My reade shall ryde at thee, Whether it is better to turne and fighte, Or goe home and loose my ladye. Now hearken to me, sayes Adler yonge, And your reade must rise at me, I quicklye will devise a waye To sette thy ladye free. My mother was a westerne woman, And learned in gramaryè, And when I learned at the schole, Something she taught itt mee. There growes an hearbe within this field, And iff it were but knowne, His color, which is whyte and redd, It will make blacke and browne: His color, which is browne and blacke, Itt will make redd and whyte; That sworde is not in all Englande, Upon his coate will byte. And you shall 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 harpèr, That ever tooke harpe in hand; And I wil be the best singèr, That ever sung in this lande. Itt shal be written on our forheads All and in grammaryè, That we towe are the boldest men, That are in all Christentyè. And thus they renisht them to ryde, On tow good renish steedes; And when they came to king Adlands hall, Of redd gold shone their weedes. And whan they came to kyng Adlands hall, Untill the fayre hall yate, There they found a proud portèr Rearing himselfe thereatt. Sayes, Christ thee save, thou proud portèr; Sayes, Christ thee save and see. Nowe you be welcome, sayd the portèr, Of whatsoever land ye bee. Wee beene harpers, sayd Adler younge, Come out of the northe countrye; Wee beene come hither untill this place, This proud weddinge for to see. Sayd, And your color were white and redd, As it is blacke and browne, I wold saye king Estmere and his brother, Were comen untill this towne. Then they pulled out a ryng of gold, Layd itt on the porters arme: And ever we will thee, proud porter, Thow wilt saye us no harme.