For golden girdle that was sae braw; Ye couldna see her fingers white For golden rings that was sae gryte. And by there came a harper fine, That harped to the king at dine. When he did look that lady upon, He sigh'd and made a heavy moan; He's taen three locks o' her yallow hair, And wi' them strung his harp sae fair. The first tune he did play and sing Was--"Farewell to my father the king." The nexten tune that he played syne Was--"Farewell to my mother the queen." The lasten tune that he play'd then Was--"Wae to my sister, fair Ellen!" (_gryte_, great.) [Illustration: 0057] THE HUNTING OF THE CHEVIOT THE FIRST FIT. |The Perse out of Northumberland, And a vow to God made he, That he would hunt in the mountains Of Cheviot within days three, In the magger of doughtè Douglas, And all that ever with him be. The fattest harts in all Cheviot He said he would kill, and carry them away: "By my faith," said the doughty Douglas again, "I will let that hunting if that I may." Then the Perse out of Banborowe came, With him a mighty meany; With fifteen hundrith archers bold of blood and bone, They were chosen out of shires three. This began on a Monday at morn, In Cheviot the hillys so he; The child may rue that is un-born, It was the more pity. (_in the magger_, in the maugre--i.e. in spite of. _let_, hinder. _meany_, company. _so he_, so high.) Then the wyld thorow the woodès went, On every sydë shear; Greyhounds thorow the grevis glent, For to kill their deer. Thus began in Cheviot the hills abone, Early on a Monnyn day; By that it drew to the hour of noon, A hundrith fat harts dead there lay. They blew a mort upon the bent, They sembled on sydës shear; (_byckarte_, hurried, _bent_, plain. _wyld_,deer. _shear_, at once. _grevis_, groves, _glent_, glanced, _sembled shear_, assembled together. _blew a mort_, sounded a horn for the dead.) The drivers thorow the woodès went, For to raise the deer; Bowmen byckarte upon the bent With their broad arrows clear. [Illustration: 0059] To the quarry then the Perse went, To see the brittling of the deer. He said, "It was the Douglas promise This day to meet me here; But I wist he would fail, verament:" A great oath the Perse swear. At the last a squire of Northumberland Looked at his hand full nigh; He was ware o* the doughty Douglas coming, With him a mighty meany; Both with spear, bille, and brand; It was a mighty sight to see; Hardier men, both of heart nor hand, Were not in Christiantè. There were twenty hundrith spear-men good, Withowtè any fail; They were born along by the water o' Twyde, Ith' bounds of Tividale. "Leave of the brittling of the deer," he said, "And to your bows look ye take good heed; For never sith ye were on your mothers born