d three,
Of twenty hundred spearmen of Scotland but even five and fift-y;
But all were slain Cheviot within, they had no strength to stand on
hy:
The child may rue that is unborn, it was the more pity.
There was slain with the Lord Percy Sir John of Agerstone,
Sir Roger the hinde Hartley, Sir William the bold Herone,
Sir George the worthy Lumley, a knight of great renown,
Sir Ralph the rich Rugby, with dints were beaten down;
For Witherington my heart was wo, that ever he slain should be,
For when both his leggis were hewen in two, yet he kneeled and fought
on his knee.
There was slain with the doughty Douglas Sir Hugh the Montgomer-y;
Sir Davy Lewdale, that worthy was, his sister's son was he;
Sir Charles of Murray in that place that never a foot would flee;
Sir Hugh Maxwell, a lord he was, with the Douglas did he dee.
So on the morrow they made them biers of birch and hazel so gay;
Many widows with weeping tears came to fetch their makis away.
Tivydale may carp of care, Northumberland may make great moan,
For two such captains as slain were there on the March parti shall
never be none.
Word is comen to Edinborough to Jamy the Scottish king,
That doughty Douglas, lieutenant of the Marches, he lay slain Cheviot
within.
His hand-es did he weal and wring; he said, "Alas! and woe is me:
Such another captain Scotland within," he said, "yea faith should
never be."
Word is comen to lovely London, to the fourth Harry our king,
That Lord Perc-y, lieutenant of the Marches, he lay slain Cheviot
within.
"God have mercy on his soul," said King Harry, "good Lord, if thy will
it be,
I have a hundred captains in England," he said, "as good as ever was
he;
But Percy, an I brook my life, thy death well quite shall be."
As our noble king made his avow, like a noble prince of renown,
For the death of the Lord Perc-y he did the battle of Homildoun,
Where six and thirty Scottish knights on a day were beaten down;
Glendale glittered on their armour bright, over castle, tower, and
town.
This was the hunting of the Cheviot; that tear began this spurn;
Old men that knowen the ground well enough call it the battle of
Otterburn.
At Otterburn began this spurn upon a Monenday;
There was the doughty Douglas slain, the Percy never went away.
There was never a time on the March part-es sen the Douglas and the
Percy met,
But it is marvel an the red b