XLII.
"Quhat signifyis yone schene scheild?" said the senyeour,
"The lufly helme and the lance, all ar away,
The brym blast that he blew with ane stevin stour?"
Than said sir Spynagrus with speche: "the suth sall I say.
Yone is ane freik in his force, and fresch in his flour, [in his forte.]
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To se that his schire weid be sicker of assay;
He thinkis provese to preve, for his paramour,
And prik in your presence, to purchese his pray.
Forthi makis furth ane man, to mach hym in feild,
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That knawin is for cruel,
Doughty dyntis to dell,
That for the maistry dar mell
With schaft and with scheild."
XLIII.
Than wes the king wondir glaid, and callit Gaudifeir;
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Quhilum in Britane that berne had baronyis braid;
And he gudly furth gais, and graithit his geir,
And buskit hym to battell, without mair abaid.
That wy walit, I vis, all wedis of veir
That nedit hym to note gif he nane had.
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. . . . .
Bery broune wes the blonk, burely and braid,
Wpone the mold, quhare thai met, before the myd-day.
With lufly lancis and lang,
Ane faire feild can thai fang,
On stedis stalwart and strang,
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Baith blanchart and bay.
XLIV.
Gaudifeir and Galiot, in glemand steil wedis,
As glauis glowand on gleid, grymly thai ride;
Wondir sternly thai steir on thair stent stedis
