I

[Fytte the Third.]

Ful erly bifore þe day þe folk vp-rysen,

Gestes þat go wolde, hor grome3 þay calden,

& þay busken vp bilyue, blonkke3 to sadel,

Tyffen he[r] takles, trussen her males,

Richen hem þe rychest, to ryde alle arayde,

Lepen vp ly3tly, lachen her brydeles,

Vche wy3e on his way, þer hym wel lyked.

Þe leue lorde of þe londe wat3 not þe last,

A-rayed for þe rydyng, with renkke3 ful mony;

Ete a sop hastyly, when he hade herde masse,

With bugle to bent felde he buske3 by-lyue;

By þat þat any day-ly3t lemed vpon erþe,

He with his haþeles on hy3e horsses weren.

Þenne þise cacheres þat couþe, cowpled hor hounde3,

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

Blwe bygly in bugle3 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 3od,
Couples huntes of kest,
Þer ros for blaste3 gode,
Gret rurd in þat forest.