Then leaving life, Earl Percy took

The dead man by the hand ;
And said, "Earl Douglas, for thy life
Would I had lost my land.

"In truth, my very heart doth bleed
With sorrow for thy sake;
For sure a more redoubted knight
Mischance did never take."

A knight amongst the Scots there was
Who saw Earl Douglas die,
Who straight in wrath did vow avenge
Upon the Earl Percy.

Sir Hugh Mountgomery was he called,
Who, with a spear full bright,
Well mounted on a gallant steed,
Ran fiercely through the fight;

And past the English archers all,
Without a dread or fear;
And through Earl Percy's body then
He thrust his hateful spear.

With such vehement force and might
He did his body gore,

The staff ran through the other side
A large cloth-yard and more.

So thus did both these nobles die, Whose courage none could stain. An English archer then perceived The noble earl was slain.

He had a bow bent in his hand,

Made of a trusty tree; An arrow of a cloth-yard long To the hard head haled he.

Against Sir Hugh Mountgomery
So right the shaft he set,
The gray goose wing that was thereon
In his heart's blood was wet.

This fight did last from break of day Till setting of the sun;

For when they rung the evening-bell The battle scarce was done.

With stout Earl Percy there were slain
Sir John of Egerton,

Sir Robert Ratcliff, and Sir John,
Sir James, that bold baron.

And with Sir George and stout Sir James,
Both knights of good account,
Good Sir Ralph Raby there was slain,
Whose prowess did surmount.

For Witherington my heart is woe

That ever he slain should be,
For when his legs were hewn in two,
He knelt and fought on his knee.

And with Earl Douglas there were slain
Sir Hugh Mountgomery,

Sir Charles Murray, that from the field One foot would never flee;

Sir Charles Murray of Ratcliff, too,
His sister's son was he;
Sir David Lamb, so well esteemed,
But saved he could not be.

And the Lord Maxwell in like case
Did with Earl Douglas die :
Of twenty hundred Scottish spears,
Scarce fifty-five did fly.

Of fifteen hundred Englishmen,
Went home but fifty-three;
The rest in Chevy-Chase were slain,
Under the greenwood tree.

Next day did many widows come,
Their husbands to bewail;
They washed their wounds in brinish tears,
But all would not prevail.

Their bodies, bathed in purple blood,
They bore with them away;
They kissed them dead a thousand times,
Ere they were clad in clay.

The news was brought to Edinburgh,
Where Scotland's king did reign,
That brave Earl Douglas suddenly
Was with an arrow slain :

"O heavy news," King James did say ; "Scotland can witness be

I have not any captain more
Of such account as he."

Like tidings to King Henry came
Within as short a space,
That Percy of Northumberland
Was slain in Chevy-Chase :

"Now God be with him," said our King "Since 't will no better be;

I trust I have within my realm
Five hundred as good as he :

"Yet shall not Scots or Scotland say But I will vengeance take;

I'll be revenged on them all

For brave Earl Percy's sake."

This vow full well the king performed

After at Humbledown;
In one day fifty knights were slain
With lords of high renown;

And of the rest, of small account,
Did many hundreds die :

Thus endeth the hunting of Chevy-Chase,
Made by the Earl Percy.

God save the king, and bless this land,
With plenty, joy, and peace;
And grant, henceforth, that foul debate
"Twixt noblemen may cease.

RICHARD SHEALE

LAMENT OF THE BORDER WIDOW.

[Sir Walter Scott says: "This ballad relates to the execution of

Cockburne of Henderland, a border freebooter, hanged over the gate of his own tower by James V. in his famous expedition, in 1529, against the marauders of the border. In a deserted burial-place

near the ruins of the castle, the monument of Cockburne and his lady is still shown. The following inscription is still legible, though defaced:

"HERE LYES PERYS OF COKBURNE AND HIS WYFE
MARJORY."]

My love he built me a bonnie bower,
And clad it a' wi' lily flower;
A brawer bower ye ne'er did see,
Than my true-love he built for me.

There came a man, by middle day,
He spied his sport, and went away;
And brought the king that very night,
Who brake my bower, and slew my knight.

He slew my knight, to me sae dear;
He slew my knight, and poin'd his gear:
My servants all for life did flee,
And left me in extremitie.

I sewed his sheet, making my mane;
I watched the corpse mysell alane ;
I watched his body night and day;
No living creature came that way.

I took his body on my back,

And whiles I gaed, and whiles I sat ;
I digged a grave, and laid him in,
And happed him with the sod sae green.

But think nae ye my heart was sair,
When I laid the moul' on his yellow hair?
O, think nae ye my heart was wae,
When I turned about, away to gae?

Nae living man I'll love again,
Since that my lively knight is slain ;
Wi' ae lock o' his yellow hair
I'll chain my heart forevermair.

ANONYMOUS.

ROBIN HOOD AND ALLEN-A-DALE.

[Of Robin Hood, the famous outlaw of Sherwood Forest, and his merry men, there are many ballads; but the limits of this volume forbid our giving more than a single selection.

Various periods, ranging from the time of Richard I. to the end of the reign of Edward II., have been assigned as the age in which Robin Hood lived. He is usually described as a yeoman, abiding in Sherwood Forest, in Nottinghamshire. His most noted followers, generally mentioned in the ballads, are Little John, Friar Tuck, his chaplain, and his maid Marian. Nearly all the legends extol his courage, his generosity, his humanity, and his skill as an archer. He robbed the rich only, who could afford to lose, and gave freely to the poor. He protected the needy, was a champion of the fair sex, and took great delight in plundering prelates. The following ballad exhibits the outlaw in one of his most attractive aspects, affording assistance to a distressed lover.]

Yesterday I should have married a maid,
But she was from me ta'en,

And chosen to be an old knight's delight,
Whereby my poor heart is slain."

"What is thy name?" then said Robin Hood, "Come tell me without any fail."

66 Young Allen, as I hear say;

Before we depart away."

ANONYMOUS.

JOCK JOHNSTONE, THE TINKLER.

"O, CAME ye ower by the Yoke-burn Ford,
Or down the King's Road of the cleuch ?*
Or saw ye a knight and a lady bright,
Wha ha'e gane the gate they baith shall rue?'

"I saw a knight and a lady bright

Ride up the cleuch at the break of day;

The knight upon a coal-black steed,

And the dame on one of a silver-gray.

"And the lady's palfrey flew the first, With many a clang of silver bell: Swift as the raven's morning flight

The two went scouring ower the fell.

"By this time they are man and wife,

And standing in St. Mary's fane; And the lady in the grass-green silk A maid you will never see again."

• Dell.

"But I can tell thee, saucy wight,

And that the runaway shall prove, Revenge to a Douglas is as sweet

As maiden charms or maiden's love."

"Since thou say'st that, my Lord Douglas, Good faith some clinking there will be; Beshrew my heart but and my sword,

If I winna turn and ride with thee!"

They whipped out ower the Shepherd Cleuch, And doun the links o' the Corsecleuch Burn; And aye the Douglas swore by his sword

To win his love, or ne'er return.

"First fight your rival, Lord Douglas, And then brag after, if you may; For the Earl of Ross is as brave a lord As ever gave good weapon sway.

66 'But I for ae poor siller merk,

Or thirteen pennies and a bawbee,'
Will tak in hand to fight you baith,
Or beat the winner, whiche'er it be."

The Douglas turned him on his steed,
And I wat a loud laughter leuch he :
Of a' the fools I have ever met,
Man, I ha'e never met ane like thee.

"Art thou akin to lord or knight,

Or courtly squire or warrior leal?" "I am a tinkler," quo' the wight, "But I like croun-cracking unco weel." When they came to St. Mary's kirk,

The chaplain shook for very fear; And aye he kissed the cross, and said, "What deevil has sent that Douglas here!

"He neither values book nor ban, But curses all without demur; And cares nae mair for a holy man Than I do for a worthless cur."

"Come here, thou bland and brittle priest,
And tell to me without delay
Where you have hid the lord of Ross

And the lady that came at the break of day."

"No knight or lady, good Lord Douglas,
Have I behield since break of morn;
And I never saw the lord of Ross
Since the woful day that I was born."

Lord Douglas turned him round about, And looked the Tinkler in the face; Where he beheld a lurking smile,

And a deevil of a dour grimace.

"How's this, how 's this, thou Tinkler loun
Hast thou presumed to lie on me?"
"Faith that I have!" the Tinkler said,

"And a right good turn I have done to thee;

"For the lord of Ross and thy own true-love, The beauteous Harriet of Thirlestane, Rade west away, ere the break of day;

And you'll never see the dear maid again;

"So I thought it best to bring you here, On a wrang scent, of my own accord ;

For had you met the Johnstone clan,

They wad ha'e made mince-meat of a lord.”

At this the Douglas was so wroth

He wist not what to say or do ;

But he strak the Tinkler o'er the croun,

Till the blood came dreeping ower his brow.

"Beshrew my heart," quo' the Tinkler lad, "Thou bear'st thee most ungallantlye!

If these are the manners of a lord,

They are manners that winna gang doun wi' me.“

"Hold up thy hand," the Douglas cried, "And keep thy distance, Tinkler loun !" "That will I not," the Tinkler said, "Though I and my mare should both go doun !"

"I have armor on," cried the Lord Douglas,
"Cuirass and helm, as you may see."
"The deil me care!" quo' the Tinkler lad
"I shall have a skelp at them and thee."
"You are not horsed," quo' the Lord Douglas,
"And no remorse this weapon brooks."
"Mine's a right good yaud," quo' the Tinkler lad
"And a great deal better nor she looks.

"So stand to thy weapons, thou haughty lord,
What I have taken I needs must give;
Thou shalt never strike a tinkler again,
For the langest day thou hast to live."

Then to it they fell, both sharp and snell,

Till the fire from both their weapons flew ; But the very first shock that they met with, The Douglas his rashness 'gan to rue.

For though he had on a sark of mail,

And a cuirass on his breast wore he, With a good steel bonnet on his head,

Yet the blood ran trickling to his knee.

The Douglas sat upright and firm,

Aye as together their horses ran ;
But the Tinkler laid on like a very deil,

Siccan strokes were never laid on by man.

The Douglas writhed beneath the lash,
Answering with an inward curse,
Like salmon wriggling on a spear,

That makes his deadly wound the worse.

But up there came two squires renowned ; In search of Lord Douglas they came; And when they saw their master down, Their spirits mounted in a flame.

And they flew upon the Tinkler wight,
Like perfect tigers on their prey :
But the Tinkler heaved his trusty sword,
And made him ready for the fray.

"Come one to one, ye coward knaves, —

Come hand to hand, and steed to steed; I would that ye were better men,

For this is glorious work indeed!"

Before you could have counted twelve,
The Tinkler's wondrous chivalrye
Had both the squires upon the sward,

And their horses galloping o'er the lea.

The Tinkler tied them neck and heel, And mony a biting jest gave he "O fie, for shame!" said the Tinkler lad; "Siccan fighters I did never see!"

66