But trust me, Percy, pittye it were, And great offence to kill For they have done no ill. Let thou and I the battell trye, Then stept a gallant squier forth, That ere my captaine fought on foote, You bee two erles," sayd Witherington, Ile doe the best that doe I may, Our English archers bent their bowes, '[Yet bides Earl Douglas on the bent, As valiant Captain, all unmov'd His host he parted had in three, And soon his spearmen on their foes Throughout the English archery 1 The four stanzas here inclosed in Brackets, which are borrowed chiefly from the ancient Copy, are offered to the Reader instead of the following lines, which occur in the Editor's folio MS.: To drive the deere with hound and horne, Douglas bade on the bent; Two captaines moved with mickle might, And throwing strait their bows away, They grasp'd their swords so bright: They closed full fast on everye side, O Christ! it was a griefe to see, The cries of men lying in their gore, At last these two stout erles did meet, They fought untill they both did sweat, "Yeeld thee, Lord Percy," Douglas sayd; "In faith I will thee bringe, Where thou shalt high advanced bee Thy ransome I will freely give, Thou art the most couragious knight, "Noe, Douglas," quoth Erle Percy then, "Thy proffer I doe scorne; I will not yeelde to any Scott, That ever yett was borne." With that, there came an arrow keene. Which struck Erle Douglas to the heart, 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." Then leaving liffe, Erle Percy tooke O Christ! my verry hart doth bleed For sure, a more redoubted knight A knight amongst the Scotts there was, Which saw Erle Douglas dye, Who streight in wrath did vow revenge Sir Hugh Mountgomery was he call'd, And past the English archers all, And through Earl Percyes body then With such a vehement force and might He did his body gore, The staff ran through the other side So thus did both these nobles dye, He had a bow bent in his hand, Against Sir Hugh Mountgomerye, The grey goose-winge that was thereon, This fight did last from breake of day, Till setting of the sun; For when they rung the evening-bell, The battel scarce was done. |