Both with spear, bylle, and brande,
yt was a myghtti sight to se;

45 Hardyar men, both off hart nor hande,
wear not in Cristiantë.

50

The wear twenti hondrith spear-men good,
withoute any feale;

The wear borne along be the watter a Twyde,
yth bowndes of Tividale.

'Leave of the brytlyng of the dear,' he sayd,
' and to your boys loek ye tayk good hede;
For never sithe ye wear on your mothars borne
had ye never so mickle nede.'

55 The dougheti Dogglas on a stede,
he rode alle his men beforne;
His armor glytteryde as dyd a glede;
a boldar barne was never born.

60

66

70

'Tell me whos men ye ar', he

says,

'or whos men that ye be: Who gave youe leave to hunte in this Chyviat chays,

in the spyt of myn and of me.'

The first mane that ever him an answear mayd, yt was the good lord Persë:

'We wyll not tell the whoys men we ar,' he says,
'nor whose men that we be;

But we wyll hounte hear in this chays,
in the spyt of thyne and of the.

'The fattiste hartes in all Chyviat

we have kyld, and cast to carry them away: 'Be my troth,' sayd the doughetë Dogglas agayn, 'therfor the ton of us shall de this day.'

Then sayd the doughtë Doglas
unto the lord Persë:

75 'To kyll alle thes giltles men,
alas, it wear great pittë!

‘But, Persë, thowe art a lord of lande, I am a yerle callyd within my contre; Let all our men uppone a parti stande, 80 and do the battell off the and of me.'

'Nowe Cristes cors on his crowne,' sayd the lord Persë,

6 who-so-ever ther-to says nay;

Be my troth, doughttë Doglas,' he says,
'thow shalt never se that day.

85 Nethar in Ynglonde, Skottlonde, nar France, nor for no man of a woman born, But, and fortune be my chance,

90

I dar met him, on man for on.'

Then bespayke a squyar off Northombarlonde,
Richard Wytharyngton was his nam;

'It shall never be told in Sothe-Ynglonde,' he

says,

'to Kyng Herry the Fourth for sham.

'I wat youe byn great lordes twaw,

I am a poor squyar of lande:

95 I wylle never se my captayne fyght on a fylde, and stande my selffe and loocke on,

But whylle I may my weppone welde,
I wylle not fayle both hart and hande.'

100

That day, that day, that dreadfull day!
the first fit here I fynde;

And youe wyll here any mor a the hountyng a the
Chyviat,

yet ys ther mor behynde.

The Yngglyshe men hade ther bowys yebent,

ther hartes wer good yenoughe;

105 The first off arros that the shote off, seven skore spear-men the sloughe.

110

Yet byddys the yerle Doglas uppon the bent,
a captayne good yenoughe,

And that was sene verament,

for he wrought hom both woo and wouche.

The Dogglas partyd his ost in thre,
lyk a cheffe cheften off pryde;
With suar spears off myghtte tre,
the cum in on every syde:

115 Thrughe our Yngglyshe archery

120

gave many a wounde fulle wyde; Many a doughetë the garde to dy, which ganyde them no pryde.

The Ynglyshe men let ther boys be,
and pulde owt brandes thet wer brighte;
It was a hevy syght to se

bryght swordes on basnites lyght.

Thorowe ryche male and myneyeple,

many sterne the strocke done streght; 125 Many a freyke that was fulle fre, ther undar foot dyd lyght.

130

At last the Duglas and the Persë met,
lyk to captayns of myght and of mayne;
The swapte together tylle the both swat,
with swordes that wear of fyn myllan.

Thes worthe freckys for to fyght,

ther-to the wear fulle fayne,

Tylle the bloode owte off thear basnetes spre as ever dyd heal or rayn.

6

135 Yelde the, Persë,' sayde the Doglas, 'and i feth I shalle the brynge

140

Wher thowe shalte have a yerls wagis
of Jamy our Skottish kynge.

Thou shalte have thy ransom fre,

I hight the hear this thinge;

For the manfullyste man yet art thowe that ever I conqueryd in filde fighttynge.'

'Nay,' sayd the lord Persë,

'I told it the beforne,

145 That I wolde never yeldyde be

150

156

to no man of a woman born.'

With that ther cam an arrowe hastely,
forthe off a myghttë wane;

Hit hathe strekene the yerle Duglas
in at the brest-bane.

Thorowe lyvar and longës bathe

the sharpe arrowe ys gane,
That never after in all his lyffe-days
he spake mo wordës but ane:

That was, 'Fyghte ye, my myrry men, whyll

ye may,

for my lyff-days ben gan.'

160

The Persë leanyde on his brande,
and sawe the Duglas de;

He tooke the dede mane by the hande,
and sayd, 'Wo ys me for the!

'To have savyde thy lyffe, I wolde have partyde with

my landes for years thre,

For a better man, of hart nare of hande,
was nat in all the north contrë.'

165 Off all that se a Skottishe knyght,

170

was callyd Ser Hewe the Monggombyrry; He sawe the Duglas to the deth was dyght, he spendyd a spear, a trusti tre.

He rod uppone a corsiare

throughe a hondrith archery;

He never stynttyde, nar never blane,
tylle he cam to the good lord Persë.

He set uppone the lorde Persë
a dynte that was full soare;

175 With a suar spear of a myghttë tre

180

clean thorow the body he the Persë ber,

A the tothar syde that a man myght se
a large cloth-yard and mare:

Towe bettar captayns wear nat in Cristiantë
then that day slan wear ther.

An archar off Northomberlonde
say slean was the lorde Persë;
He bar a bende bowe in his hand,
was made off trusti tre.