32 ‘Away, away, O bully Grahame, And of all that talk, man, let us be! We’ll take three men of either side To see if we can our fathers agree.’ 33 ‘Away, away, O bully Bewick, And of thy bullyship let me be! But if thou be a man, as I trow thou art, Come over this ditch and fight with me.’ 34 ‘O no! not so, my bully Grahame! That eer such a word should spoken be! Shall I venture my body in field to fight With a man that’s faith and troth to me?’ 35 ‘Away, away, O bully Bewick, And of all that care, man, let us be! If thou be a man, as I trow thou art, Come over this ditch and fight with me.’ 36 ‘Now, if it be my fortune thee, Grahame, to kill, As God’s will’s, man, it all must be; But if it be my fortune thee, Grahame, to kill, ’Tis home again I’ll never gae.’ 37 ‘Thou art of my mind then, bully Bewick, And sworn-brethren will we be; If thou be a man, as I trow thou art, Come over this ditch and fight with me.’ 38 He flang his cloak from [off] his shoulders, His psalm-book out of his hand flang he, He clapd his hand upon the hedge, And oer lap he right wantonly. 39 When Grahame did see his bully come, The salt tear stood long in his eye: ‘Now needs must I say that thou art a man, That dare venture thy body to fight with me. 40 ‘Now I have a harness on my back; I know that thou hath none on thine; But as little as thou hath on thy back, Sure as little shall there be on mine.’ 41 He flang his jack from off his back, His steel cap from his head flang he; He’s taken his sword into his hand, He’s tyed his horse unto a tree. 42 Now they fell to it with two broa[d swords], For two long hours fought Bewick [and he]; Much sweat was to be seen on them both, But never a drop of blood to see. 43 Now Grahame gave Bewick an ackward stroke, An ackward stroke surely struck he; He struck him now under the left breast, Then down to the ground as dead fell he. 44 ‘Arise, arise, O bully Bewick, Arise, and speak three words to me! Whether this be thy deadly wound, Or God and good surgeons will mend thee.’ 45 ‘O horse, O horse, O bully Grahame, And pray do get thee far from me! Thy sword is sharp, it hath wounded my heart, And so no further can I gae. 46 ‘O horse, O horse, O bully Grahame, And get thee far from me with speed! And get thee out of this country quite! That none may know who’s done the deed.’ 47 ‘O if this be true, my bully dear, The words that thou dost tell to me, The vow I made, and the vow I’ll keep; I swear I’ll be the first that die. 48 Then he stuck his sword in a moody-hill, Where he lap thirty good foot and three; First he bequeathed his soul to God, And upon his own sword-point lap he.