A Bundle of Ballads. Various
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The drivers thorough the wood-es went for to raise the deer;
Bowmen bickered upon the bent with their broad arrows clear,
Then the wild thorough the wood-es went on every sid-e shear;
Greyhounds thorough the grov-es glent for to kill their deer.
This began in Cheviot, the hills abone, early on a Monnynday;
By that it drew to the hour of noon a hundred fat harts dead there
lay.
They blew a mort upon the bent; they sembled on sidis shear,
To the quarry then the Percy went, to see the brittling of the deer.
He said, "It was the Douglas' promise this day to meet me here;
But I wist he would fail, verament"—a great oath the Percy sware.
At the last a squire of Northumberland looked, at his hand full nigh
He was ware of the doughty Douglas coming, with him a mighty mean-y,
Both with spear, bill, and brand, it was a mighty sight to see.
Hardier men both of heart nor hand were not in Christiant-e.
They were twenty hundred spearmen good without any fail;
They were borne along by the water of Tweed, i'th' bounds of Tividale.
"Leave off the brittling of the deer," he said, "and to your bows look
ye take good heed,
For never sith ye were of your mothers born had ye never so mickle
need."
The doughty Douglas on a steed he rode all his men beforn,
His armour glittered as did a glede, a bolder barn was never born.
"Tell me whose men ye are," he says, "or whose men that ye be;
Who gave you leave to hunt in this Cheviot Chase in the spite of mine
and of me?"
The first man that ever him an answer made, it was the good Lord Perc-
y,
"We will not tell thee whose men we are," he says, "nor whose men that
we be;
But we will hunt here in this Chase in the spite of thine and of thee.
The fattest harts in all Cheviot we have killed, and cast to carry
them away."
"By my troth," said the doughty Douglas again, "therefore the tone of
us shall die this day."
Then said the doughty Douglas unto the Lord Perc-y,
"To kill all these guiltless men, alas! it were great pit-y.
But, Percy, thou art a lord of land, I am an earl called within my
countr-y.
Let all our men upon a parti stand, and do the battle of thee and of
me."
"Now Christ's curse on his crown," said the Lord Percy, "whosoever
thereto says nay!
By my troth, doughty Douglas," he says, "thou shalt never see that
day!
Neither in England, Scotland, nor France, nor for no man of a woman
born,
But and fortune be my chance, I dare meet him, one man for one."
Then bespake a squire of Northumberland, Richard Witherington was his
name,
"It shall never be told in South England," he says, "to King Harry the
Fourth, for shame.
I wot you ben great lord-es two, I am a poor squire of land;
I will never see my captain fight on a field, and stand myself and
look on;
But while I may my weapon wield I will fight both heart and hand."
That day, that day, that dreadful day: the first fytte here I find,
An you will hear any more of the hunting of the Cheviot, yet is there
more behind.
SECOND FYTTE.
The English men had their bows ybent, their hearts were good enow;
The first of arrows that they shot off, sevenscore spearmen they
slowe.
Yet bides the Earl Douglas upon the bent, a captain good enow,
And that was seene verament, for he wrought them both wo and wough.
The Douglas parted his host in three like a chief chieftain of pride,
With suar spears of mighty tree they come in on every side,
Through our English archery gave many a wound full wide;
Many a doughty they gard to die, which gain-ed them no pride.
The Englishmen let their bows be, and pulled out brands that were
bright;
It was a heavy sight to see bright swords on basnets light.
Thorough rich mail and manople many stern they struck down straight,
Many a freke that was full free there under foot did light.
At last the Douglas and the Percy met, like to captains of might and
of main;
They swapt together till they both swat, with swords that were of fine
Milan.
These worthy frekis for to fight thereto they were full fain,
Till the blood out of their basnets sprent as ever did hail or rain.
"Yield thee, Percy," said the Douglas, "and in faith I shall thee
bring
Where thou shalt have an earl's wagis of Jamy our Scottish king.
Thou shalt have thy ransom free, I hight thee here this thing,
For the manfullest man yet art thou that ever I conquered