A captayne good yenoughe,
And that was sene verament,
For he wrought hom both woo and wouche.

The Dogglas pertyd his ost in thre,
Lyk a cheffe cheften off pryde,
With suar speares off myghttA" tre,
The cum in on every syde:

Thrughe our Yngglishe archery
Gave many a wounde full wyde;
Many a doughete the garde to dy,
Which ganyde them no pryde.

The Yngglyshe men let thear bowys be,
And pulde owt brandes that wer bright;
It was a hevy syght to se
Bryght swordes on basnites lyght.

Throrowe ryche male and myneyeple,
Many sterne the stroke downe streght;
Many a freyke, that was full fre,
Ther undar foot dyd lyght.

At last the Duglas and the PersA" met,
Lyk to captayns of myght and of mayne;
The swapte togethar tyll the both swat,
With swordes that wear of fyn myllA n,

Thes worthA" freckys for to fyght,