¶ Aȝild þe now to me:
Gret harm it wer to sle þe,
So ȝong a bacheler;
For neuer kniȝt y ne fond
So wel werchande wiþ dent of brond
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Naiþer fer ne ner.'
Reinbroun seide, 'þerof be stille:
Þat telle þe y ne wille,
Be godes moder dere.
Er þan ich wile ȝelde me
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Erst þin heued schel of fle
Faste, be þe swere.
¶ Boute þow now telle me
Wheþen þow ert, & what þow be, [folio 171a:b]
I schel þe sle anon riȝt;
For þow ert old & whit i-blowe,
Þe stringþe is gon alse y trowe,
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Þe power and þe miȝt.'
Heraud seide, 'me frend fre,
So fareþ folk in me contre
In bataile and in fiȝt:
Whan hii ginneþ for to helde,
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Þanne þai wexeþ stout, & belde,
And stronge men, apliȝt.
¶ Er þow fro me departed be,
Wel ȝonge thow schelt holde me,
And douȝti man of dede.'
Togedres þai smite, wiþ-outen faile, [C line 11139]
Ase sterne lyouns in bataile,
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Kniȝtes stif on stede.
To-gedre þai smite ernest & faste:
Þe fur out of here helmes braste,
And made here sides blede.
Ful dedli fon now þai are:
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Ȝet þai scholle be frendes þare;
Crist þer-to hem spede!
