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“Loe, yonder doth Erle Douglas come,
His men in armour bright;
All marching in our sight;
Fast by the river Tweede: “Then cease your sports," Erle Percy said,
“And take your bowes with speede: ' And now with me, my countrymen,
Your courage forth advance;
In Scottland or in France,
But if my hap it were,
With him to break a spere.”
Most like a baron bold,
Whose armour shone like gold. “Show me,” said hee, “whose men you bee,
That hunt soe boldly heere,
And kill my fallow deere.”.
Was noble Percy he;
Nor show whose men wee bee :
Thy cheefest harts to slay.”
rage did say,
“ Ere thus I will out-braved bee,
One of us two shall dye :
Lord Percy, soe am I.
And great offence, to kill
For they have done no ill.
And set our men aside." “ Shame on the man,” Erle Percy sayd,
“By whome this is denyed.” Then stept a gallant squier forth,
Witherington was his name,
To Henry our king for shame,
And I stood looking on. You two bee erles,” quo' Witherington,
“And I a squier alone: “ Ile doe the best that doe I
may, While I have power to stand : While I have power to weeld my sword,
Ile fight with heart and hand.” Our English archers bent their bowes,
Their hearts were good and trew; Att the first flight of arrowes sent,
Full four-score Scots they slew. Yet bides Erle Douglas on the bent,
As chieftain stout and good; As valiant captain, all unmoved
The shock he firmly stood.
His host he parted had in three,
As leader ware a and try'd ;
Bare down on every side.
They dealt full many a wound : But still our valiant Englishmen
All firmly kept their ground : And throwing straight their bowes away,
They grasped their swords so bright: And now sharp blows, a heavy shower,
On shields and helmets light. They closed full fast on everye side,
Noe slackness there was found; And many a gallant gentleman
Lay gasping on the ground.
How each one chose his spere,
Did gush like water cleere.
Like captaines of great might:
And made a cruell fight :
With swords of tempered steel ;
They trickling down did feele. “Yeeld thee, Lord Percy," Douglas sayd ;
“In faith I will thee bringe, Where thou shalt high advanced bee
By James our Scottish king.
“Thy ransome I will freely give,
And this report of thee,
That ever I did see.” “Noe, Douglas," quoth Erle Percy then,
“Thy proffer I doe scorne; I will not yeelde to any Scott,
That ever yett was borne.”
Out of an English bow,
A deepe and deadlye blow: Who never spake more words than these,
"Fight on, my merry men all; For why, my life is at an end;
Lord Percy sees my fall.”
The dead man by the hand;
Wold I have lost my land.
With sorrow for thy sake;
Mischance did never take.”
Which saw Erle Douglas dye,
Upon the Erle Percy:
Who, with a spere full bright,
Ran fiercely through the fight:
And past the English archers all,
Without a dread or feare;
He thrust his hateful spere;
He did his body gore,
A large cloth yard, and more.
Whose courage none could staine:
The noble erle was slaine;
Made of a trusty tree ;
To the hard head haled he:
So right the shaft he sett,
In his heart's blood was wett.
Till setting of the sunne;
The battell scarce was done.
Sir John of Egerton,
Sir James the bold barròn.
Both knights of good account,
Whose prowesse did surmount.