61 Worde ys commyn to lovly Londone, till27 the fourth Harry our kynge, That lord Persë, leyff-tenante of the Marchis, 62 he lay slayne Chyviat within. "God have merci on his solle," sayde Kyng Harry, "good Lord, yf thy will it be! I have a hondrith captayns in Ynglonde," "as good as ever was he: thy deth well quyte29 shall be." 63 As our noble kynge mayd his avowe, 64 Wher syx and thrittë Skottishe knyghtes 65 This was the hontynge off the Cheviat, that tears begane this spurn32, Old men that knowen the grownde well yenoughe call it the battell of Otterburn. 66 At Otterburn begane this spurne Ther was the doughte Doglas slean, 67 Ther was never a tym on the Marche partës sen33 the Doglas and the Persë met, But yt ys mervele and34 the rede blude ronne not, as the reane doys35 in the stret. O lang, lang may the ladies stand, Haf owre, haf owre to Aberdour, And thair lies guid Sir Patrick Spence, 1 JOHNIE COCK.* 'What news, what news?' says the Seven 'What news have ye brought to me?' 12 'As I cam in by Braidisbanks, 13 14 Up bespake the Seven Forsters, Up bespake they ane and a': 'O that is Johnie o Cockleys Well, And near him we will draw.' 15 16 O the first stroke that they gae him, 'O the next'll gar16 him die!' 'O some they count ye well-wight17 men, But I do count ye nane; For you might well ha wakend me, 'The wildest wolf in aw this wood Manhuid shall fail me nought.' He has killd the Seven Forsters, 'Is there never a [bird] in a' this wood That will tell what I can say; That will go to Cockleys Well, Tell my mither to fetch me away?' There was a [bird] into that wood, 7 cloth 8 bush of furze ⚫ leaped 14 linen 10 stript 15 waistcoat 16 make 17 very 18 brow brave |