Then leaving liffe, Erle Percy tooke
The dead man by the hand;
And said, “Erle Douglas, for thy life
Wold I had lost my land.

O Christ! my verry hart doth bleed
With sorrow for thy sake;

For sure, a more redoubted knight
Mischance cold never take.”

A knight amongst the Scotts there was, Which saw Erle Douglas dye,

Who streight in wrath did vow revenge
Upon the Lord Percye:

Sir Hugh Mountgomery was he call'd,
Who, with a spere most bright,
Well-mounted on a gallant steed,
Ran fiercely through the fight;

And past the English archers all,
Without all dread or feare;

And through Earl Percyes body then
He thrust his hatefull spere;

With such a 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 dye,
Whose courage none could sṭaine:
An English archer then perceiv'd
The noble erle was slaine;

He had a bow bent in his hand,
Made of a trusty tree;
An arrow of a cloth-yard long
Up to the head drew hee:

Against Sir Hugh Mountgomerye,
So right the shaft he sett,

The grey goose-winge that was thereon,
In his harts bloode was wett.

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.

With stout Erle Percy, there was slaine,

Sir John of Egerton,

Sir Robert Ratcliff, and Sir John,

Sir James that bold barròn:

And with Sir George and stout Sir James,
Both knights of good account,

Good Sir Ralph Raby there was slaine
Whose prowesse did surmount.

For Witherington needs must I wayle,
As one in doleful dumpes;

For when his leggs were smitten off,
He fought upon his stumpes.

And with Erle Douglas, there was slaine
Sir Hugh Mountgomerye,

Sir Charles Murray, that from the field
One foote wold never flee.

Sir Charles Murray, of Ratcliff, too,
His sisters sonne was hee;

Sir David Lamb, so well esteem'd,
Yet saved cold not bee.

And the Lord Maxwell in like case
Did with Erle Douglas dye:
Of twenty hundred Scottish speres,
Scarce fifty-five did flye.

Of fifteen hundred Englishmen,
Went home but fifty-three;

The rest were slaine in Chevy-Chase,
Under the greene woode tree.

Next day did many widdowes come,

Their husbands to bewayle;

They washt their wounds in brinish teares, But all wold not prevayle.

Theyr bodyes bathed in purple gore,

They bare with them away:

They kist them dead a thousand times,
Ere they were cladd in clay.

The newes was brought to Eddenborrow,
Where Scottlands king did raigne,

That brave Erle Douglas suddenlye
Was with an arrow slaine:

Be it wind, be it weet, be it hail, be it sleet,
Our ship must sail the faem;

The king's daughter of Noroway,
'Tis we must fetch her hame."

They hoysed their sails on Monenday morn,

Wi' a' the speed they may;

They ha'e landed in Noroway,

Upon a Wodensday.

They hadna been a week, a week,

In Noroway, but twae,

When that the lords o' Noroway

Began aloud to say —

"Ye Scottishmen spend a' our king's goud,

And a' our queenis fee."

"Ye lie, ye lie, ye liars loud!

Fu' loud I hear ye lie;

For I ha'e brought as much white monie,

As gane my men and me,

4

And I ha'e brought a half-fou of gude red goud,

Out o'er the sea wi' me.

Make ready, make ready, my merry-men a'!

Our gude ship sails the morn.”

"Now, ever alake, my master dear,

I fear a deadly storm!

I saw the new moon, late yestreen,
Wi' the auld moon in her arm;
And, if we gang to sea, master,
I fear we'll come to harm.”

They hadna sail'd a league, a league,

A league but barely three,

When the lift grew dark, and the wind blew loud, And gurly grew the sea.

The ankers brak, and the topmasts lap,

It was sic a deadly storm;

And the waves cam o'er the broken ship,
Till a' her sides were torn.

"O where will I get a gude sailor,
To take my helm in hand,
Til I get up to the tall top-mast,
To see if I can spy land?”

"O here am I, a sailor gude,
To take the helm in hand,

Till you go up to the tall top-mast;
But I fear you'll ne'er spy land."

He hadna gane a step, a step,

A step but barely ane,

When a boult flew out of our goodly ship,
And the salt sea it came in.

"Gae, fetch a web o' the silken claith,

Another o' the twine,

And wap them into our ship's side,

And let nae the sea come in.".

They fetch'd a web o' the silken claith,

Another o' the twine,

And they wapp'd them round that gude ship's side, But still the sea came in.