25 And he tooke leave of that ladye fayre, To goe to his owne countree, To fetche him dukes and lordes and knightes, That marryed the might bee. 26 They had not ridden scant a myle, A myle forthe of the towne, But in did come the kyng of Spayne, With kempës many one. 27 But in did come the kyng of Spayne, With manye a bold barone, Tone day to marrye Kyng Adlands daughter, Tother daye to carrye her home. 28 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. 29 One whyle then the page he went, Another while he ranne; Till he had oretaken King Estmere, I-wis he never blanne. 30 'Tydings, tydings, Kyng Estmere!' 'What tydinges nowe, my boye?' 'O tydinges I can tell to you, That will you sore annoye. 31 'You had not ridden scant a mile, A mile out of the towne, But in did come the kyng of Spayne, With kempës many a one. 32 '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. 33 '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 ladye.' 34 Saies, Reade me, reade me, deere brother, My reade shall ryse at thee, Whether it is better to turne and fighte, Or goe home and loose my ladye. 35 '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. 36 'My mother was a westerne woman, And learned in gramarye, And when I learned at the schole, Something shee taught itt mee. 37 '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. 38 '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. 39 'And you shal be a harper, brother, Out of the north countrye, And Ile be your boy, soe faine of fighte, And beare your harpe by your knee. 40 '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. 41 'Itt shal be written in our forheads, All and in grammarye, That we towe are the boldest men That are in all Christentye.' 42 And thus they renisht them to ryde, Of tow good renisht steedes, And when they came to King Adlands hall, Of redd gold shone their weedes.