No More Learning

Botte, gyff thou fyghteste mee, thou shalt have mede[93];
Somme odherr I wylle champyonn toe affraie[94];
Perchaunce fromme hemm I maie possess the daie,
Thenn I schalle bee a foemanne forr thie spere. 110
Herehawde, toe the bankes of Knyghtys saie,
De Berghamme wayteth forr a foemann heere.

CLINTON.

Botte longe thou schalte ne tend[95]; I doe thee fie[96].
Lyche forreying[97] levynn[98], schalle mie tylte-launce flie.
[Berghamme & Clinton _tylte_. Clinton _fallethe_.
BERGHAMME.

Nowe, nowe, Syrr Knyghte, attoure[99] thie beeveredd[100] eyne.
I have borne downe, and este[101] doe gauntlette thee.
Swythenne[102] begynne, and wrynn[103] thie shappe[104] orr myne;
Gyff thou dyscomfytte, ytt wylle dobblie bee.
[Bourtonne & Burghamm _tylteth_. Berghamme _falls_.

HERAWDE.

Symonne de Bourtonne haveth borne downe three,
And bie the thyrd hathe honnoure of a fourthe.
120
Lett hymm bee sett asyde, tylle hee doth see
A tyltynge forr a knyghte of gentle wourthe.
Heere commethe straunge knyghtes; gyff corteous[105] heie[106],
Ytt welle beseies[107] to yeve[108] hemm ryghte of fraie[109].

FIRST KNYGHTE.

Straungerrs wee bee, and homblie doe wee clayme 125
The rennome[110] ynn thys Tourneie[111] forr to tylte;
Dherbie to proove fromm cravents[112] owre goode name,
Bewrynnynge[113] thatt wee gentile blodde have spylte.

HEREHAWDE.

Yee knyghtes of cortesie, these straungerrs, saie,
Bee you fulle wyllynge forr to yeve hemm fraie? 130
[_Fyve Knyghtes tylteth wythe the straunge Knyghte, and bee
everichone[114] overthrowne. _

BOURTONNE.

Nowe bie Seyncte Marie, gyff onn all the fielde
Ycrasedd[115] speres and helmetts bee besprente[116],
Gyff everyche knyghte dydd houlde a piercedd[117] sheeld,
Gyff all the feelde wythe champyonne blodde bee stente[118],
Yett toe encounterr hymm I bee contente. 135
Annodherr launce, Marshalle, anodherr launce.
Albeytte hee wythe lowes[119] of fyre ybrente[120],
Yett Bourtonne woulde agenste hys val[121] advance.
Fyve haveth fallenn downe anethe[122] hys speere,
Botte hee schalle bee the next thatt falleth heere. 140

Bie thee, Seyncte Marie, and thy Sonne I sweare,
Thatt ynn whatte place yonn doughtie knyghte shall fall
Anethe[123] the stronge push of mie straught[124] out speere,
There schalle aryse a hallie[125] chyrches walle,
The whyche, ynn honnoure, I wylle Marye calle, 145
Wythe pillars large, and spyre full hyghe and rounde.
And thys I faifullie[126] wylle stonde to all,
Gyff yonderr straungerr falleth to the grounde.
Straungerr, bee boune[127]; I champyonn[128] you to warre.
Sounde, sounde the flughornes, to bee hearde fromm farre.