I

[Fytte the Third.]

Ful erly bifore þe day þe folk vp-rysen,

Gestes þat go wolde, hor gromeȝ þay calden,

& þay busken vp bilyue, blonkkeȝ to sadel,

Tyffen he[r] takles, trussen her males,

Richen hem þe rychest, to ryde alle arayde,

Lepen vp lyȝtly, lachen her brydeles,

Vche wyȝe on his way, þer hym wel lyked.

Þe leue lorde of þe londe watȝ not þe last,

A-rayed for þe rydyng, with renkkeȝ ful mony;

Ete a sop hastyly, when he hade herde masse,

With bugle to bent felde he buskeȝ by-lyue;

By þat þat any day-lyȝt lemed vpon erþe,

He with his haþeles on hyȝe horsses weren.

Þenne þise cacheres þat couþe, cowpled hor houndeȝ,

Vnclosed þe kenel dore, & calde hem þer-oute,

Blwe bygly in bugleȝ þre bare mote;

Braches bayed þerfore, & breme noyse maked,

& þay chastysed, & charred, on chasyng þat went;

A hundreth of hunteres, as I haf herde telle,

of þe best;
To trystors vewters ȝod,
Couples huntes of kest,
Þer ros for blasteȝ gode,
Gret rurd in þat forest.