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^THE FORRAY
Na zit remouit nocht for the dynt,
For Dauclyne leit he nocht to lede,
Throw out the preis the ftaluart fteid,
He faw his lord the duke Betys.
At erd amang his enemyis,
Wnder hors fute defoullit fa,
That ay he on hand wald ta,
To get on fute thay that war by,
Wald heir thame doun deliuerly.
The gude Gaudifere hidder raid.
Throw ftrenth of his fteid but abaid,
He plungit in the thikkeft preis.
To help his lord that lyand was.
Mony ane ftraik there hes he tane,
Bot maugre thairis of Grece ilkane.
On Tholomeris fteid hes he,
Horffit his lord throw his bounte.
War nocht the duke now doungin fa.
He hes ane hors I vndirta.
Of grete bounte quhair on he may,
Richt weill his hardement aflay,
Likit him than to leif the fecht.
Maugre his fais I trow he micht.
His gait richt weill to Gaderis ga.
All thocht thay chaifTit him neuer fa,
G^AVDIFERE weill delyuerit hes.
f His lord that at great mifcheif was.
And horflit him fa richly,
Bot he felt him fa fellonly.
Hurt and to fruftiit with the fall.
That his body was to ftonyit all.
Than to his men in hy faid he.
86 Heir

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