# The Whole Prophecies of Scotland, England, Ireland, France & Denmark/Chapter 5

The Prophecies of Thomas Rymer.
STILL on my ways as I went, Out through a land beſide a lee, I met a bairn upon the way, Me thought him ſeemly for to ſee. I aſked him wholly his intent? Good ſir if you will be, Since that ye bide upon the bent, Some uncouth tidings tell you me! When shall theſe wars be gone, That leel men may live in lee? ​Or when shall falſehood go from home? And laughty blow his horn on hie? I looked from me not a mile, And ſaw two knights upon a lee, They were armed ſeemingly new, Two croſſes on their breaſts they bare, And they were clad in diverſe hue, Of ſundry countries as they were; The one was red as blood, Set in a ſhield a dragon keen. He ſtird his ſteed as he were mad, With crabbed words ſharp and keen, Right to the other bairn him by; His horſe was all of ſilver ſheen! In it a ramping lion keen, Seemingly into gold was ſet; His border of was azure ſheen, His ſhield was ſhaped right ſeemly, With ſilk and fable well was plet. I looked from over a green, And ſaw a lady on a lee, That ſuch a one I had never ſeen, The light of her ſhined ſo high. Attour the moor whereat ſhe foor, The fields me thought fair and gree; She rode upon a ſteed full ſtoor, That ſuch a one had I ſeldom ſeen; Her ſteed was white as any milk, His top, his tail, were both full blue, A ſad ſaddle ſhowed with ſilk, As all were gold it glittered ſae: His harneſing was of ſilk of India, Set with precious ſtones frae: He ambled on a noble kind, Upon her head ſtood crowns three, Her garments was of gowans gay, But other colour ſaw none. A flying fowl then I ſaw, Light beſide her on a ſtone; A ſtoop into her hand ſhe bare, And holy water ſhe had ready, She ſprinkled the field both here and there, Said here ſhall many dead corps lie; At yon bridge upon yon burn, ​Where the water runs bright and ſheen And Knights die through battle keen. To the two Knights then did ſhe ſay, Let be your ſtrife my Knights free; Ye take your horſe, and ride your way, As God hath ordain'd ſo moſt it be. Saint Andrew thou haſt the right; Saint George thou art mine own Knight; Thy wrongous heir ſhall work thee woe. Now are they on their ways gone; The Lady and the Knights two, To that beirn then can I ment, And aſked tidings by may ſay, What kind of light is that, I ſaid, Thou ſheweſt to me upon yon lee; Or wherefore came yon Knights two? They ſeemed of a far country. That Lady that I let thee ſee, That is the Queen of Heaven ſo bright: The fowl that flew by her knee, That is Saint Michael, much of might: The Knights two the field to tae, Where many men in field ſhall fight: Know you well it ſhall be sae, That die ſhall many a gentle Knight: With death ſhall many a doughty deal. The Lord ſhall be then away, There is none herrel that can tell, Who ſhall win the field that day. A crowned King in arms three, Under the banner ſhall be ſet: Two falſe and feigned ſhall be, The third ſhall light and make great let. Banners five again ſhall ſtrive, And come in on the other ſide: The white lion ſhall beat them down, And work them woe with wounds wide: The bear's head with the red lion, So ſweetly into red gold ſet, That day ſhall ſlay the King with crown, Though many Lords make great let, There ſhall attour the water of Forth, Set in gold the red lion: And many Lords out of the north, ​To that battle ſhall make them bown; There ſhall creſcents come full keen, That wears the Croſs as red as blood, On every ſide ſhall be ſorrow ſeen, Defiled in many doughty food, Beſides a loch upon a lee, They ſhall aſſemble upon a day, And many doughty men ſhall die, Few in quiet ſhall be found away. Our Scottiſh King shall come full keen, The red lion beareth he; A feddered arrow sharp I ween, Shall make him wink, and warre to ſee, Out of the field he shall be led, When he is bloody and woe for blood; Yet to his men then shall he ſay, For God's love turn thou again, And give your southern folk a fray; Why should I loſe? the right is mine, My fate is not to die this day. Yonder is falſehood fled away, And laughty blows his horn on high: Our bloody King that wears the crown, Full boldly shall the battle bide, His banner shall be beaten down, And hath none hole his head to hide. The ſterns three that day shall die, That bears the hart in ſilver sheen, There is no riches, gold nor fee, May lengthen his life an hour I ween. Thus thro' the field that Knight shall ride, And twice reſcue the King with crown; He shall make many a banner yield, The Knight that bears the tods three, He will by force the field to tae; But when he ſees the lion die, Think ye well he will be wae! Beſide him lights bairns three, Two is white the third is blae, The tods three shall ſlay the two, The third of them shall make him die, Out of the field shall go no more, But one Knight and Knaves three. There comes a banner red as blood: ​In a ship of ſilver sheen; With him comes many ferly food, To work the Scots much hurt and woe. There comes a ghoſt out of the weſt, Is of another language than he, To the battle bowns him beſt, As ſoon as he the Senyour can ſee: The raches works them great wanreſt, Where they are rayed on a lee; I cannot tell who hath the beſt, Each one of them makes other die. A white ſwan ſet into blae, Shall ſemble from the ſouth ſea, To work the northern folk great woe, For know you well thus shall it be, The ſtaiks aught with ſilver ſet, Shall semble from the other ſide, Till he and the ſwan be met, They shall work woe with wounds wide, Thro' wounds wide their weeds hath ſet, So boldly will their bairns bide. It is no reck who gets the beſt, They shall both die in that ſame tide. There comes a Lord out of the north, Riding upon a horſe of tree, That broad lands hath beyond Forth The white hind beareth he; And two ratches that are blue, Set into gold that is ſo free, That day the eagle shall him ſlay, And then put up his banner hie. The Lord that bears the lolans three, Set into gold with jewels two: Before him shall a battle be. He wears a banner that is blue, Set with peacocks' tails three, And lusty ladies heads two: Unfain of one, each other shall be, All through grief together they go; I cannot tell who wins the gree, Each one of them shall other ſlay: The eagle grey ſet into green, That wears the harts' heads three, Out of the ſouth he shall be ſeen, ​To light and ray him on a lee, With fifty-five Knights that are keen, And earls either two or theee, From Carliſle ſhall come bedeen, Again ſhall they it never ſee, At Pinkin Cleugh there ſhall be ſpilt, Much gentle blood that day; There ſhall the bear loſe the gylt, And the eagle bear it away. Before the water, men calls Tyne, And there over lays a bridge of ſtone, That bears three ſhall loſe the gree, There ſhall the eagle win his name. There comes a beaſt out of the weſt, With him ſhall come a fair minie, His banner hath been ſeldom ſeen, A baſtard trow I beſt he be; Gotten with a ladie ſheen, And a knight in privity, His arms are full eath to know, The red lion beareth he, And be right glad to flee away! Into an orchard on a lee; With herbs green and allies gray, There will he enlaked be, His men ſays, harmeſay; The eagle puts his banner on hie, And ſays the field he wan that day: There ſhall the lion lie full ſtill, Into a valley fair and bright: A lady ſhouts with words ſhril, And ſays woe worth thee cruel knight, Thy men are ſlain upon yon hill, The dead are many doughty dight. Thereat the lion liketh ill, And raiſeth his banner hie on hight: Upon the moor that is ſo grey, Beſide an headleſs croſs of ſtone: There ſhall the eagle die that day; And the red lion win the name. The eagles three ſhall loſe the gree: That they have had this many a day: The red lion ſhall win renown, Win all the field and bear away. ​One crow ſhall come, another ſhall go, And drink the gentle blood ſo free, When all theſe ferlies were away, Then ſaw I none, but I and he: Then to the beirn could I ſay, Where dwells thou? or in what country: Or who ſhall rule the Iſle Britain, From the north to the ſouth ſea? The French wife ſhall bear the ſon, Shall rule all Britain to the ſea, That of the Bruces blood ſhall come, As near as the ninth degree. I frained faſt, what was his name? Whence that he came from what country: In Erislingtown, I dwell at hame, Thomas Rymer men call me.