Chapter XXV: Book VI: 126. Durham Field (1)

I

Lordings, listen, and hold you still;
Hearken to me a spell;
I shall you tell of the fairest battell
That ever in England befell.

II

It befell in Edward the Third’s dayes,
When in England he ware the crowne,
That all the chief chivalry of England
They buskèd[1023] and made them bowne[1024].

III

They have chosen all the best archers
That in England might be found,
And all was to fight with the King of France,
Within a litle stounde[1025].

IV

And when our King was over the water,
And on the salt sea gone,
Then tydings into Scotland came
That all England was gone.

V

Bowes and arrowes they all were forth;
At home was not left a man
But shepards and millers both,
And preists with shaven crownes.

VI

Then the King of Scotts in a study stood,
As he was a man of great might;
He sware he would hold his parlament in leeve[1026] London,
If he cold ryde there right.

VII

Then bespake a Squire, of Scottland borne,
And sayd, ‘My leege, ha’ peace,
Before you come to leeve London,
Full sore you’le rue that race.

VIII

‘Ther beene bold yeomen in merry England,
Husbandmen stiffe and strong;
Sharpè swords they done weare,
Bearen bowes and arrowes longe.’

IX

The King was angrye at that word;
A long sword out he drew,
And there before his royall companye
His ownè Squire hee slew.

X

Hard hansell[1027] had the Scottes that day,
That wrought them woe enoughe,
For a Scott then durst not speake a word
Ffor hanging att a boughe.

XI

‘The Earle of Anguish[1028], where art thou?
In my coate-armour thou shalt bee,
And thou shalt lead the forward
Thorow the English countrye.

XII

‘Take thee Yorke,’ then sayd the King,
‘In stead wheras it doth stand;
I’le make thy eldest sonne after thee
Heyre of all Northumberland.

XIII

‘The Earle of Buchan, where be yee?
In my coate-armour thou shalt bee;
The high Peak and all Darbyshire
I give it thee to thy fee.’

XIV

The famous Douglas then came in,
Saies, ‘What shall my meede bee?
And I will lead the vanward, lord,
Thorow the English countrye.’

XV

‘Take thee Worster,’ sayd the King,
‘Tuxburye, Killingworth, Burton on Trent;
Doe thou not say another day
But I gave thee lands and rent.

XVI

‘Sir Richard of Edenborrow, where are yee?
A wise man in this warr!
I’le give thee Bristow and the shire
The time that wee come there.

XVII

‘Thou, my lord Nevill, where art thou?
Thou must in this warres bee;
I’le give thee Shrewsburye,’ saies the King,
‘And Coventrye faire and free.

XVIII

‘My lord of Hambleton[1029], where art thou?
Thou art of my kin full nye;
I’le give thee Lincolne and Lincolneshire,
And that’s enoughe for thee.’

XIX

By then came in William Douglas,
As breeme[1030] as any bore;
He kneelèd him downe upon his knees,
In his heart he sighèd sore.

XX

‘I have servèd you, my lovelye liege,
This thirty winters and four,
And in the Scottish Marches
Have beene wounded and beaten sore.

XXI

‘For all the good service that I have done,
What now shall my meed bee?
And I will lead the vanward
Thorow the English countrye.’

XXII

‘Now aske on, Douglas,’ said the King,
‘And granted it shall bee.’--
‘Why then, I aske litle London,’ saies Douglas,
‘Gotten gif that it bee.’

XXIII

The King was wroth, and rose away,
Saies, ‘Nay, that cannot bee!
For that I will keepe for my cheefe chamber,
Gotten gif that it bee.

XXIV

‘But take thee North Wales and Weschester,
The countrye all round about,
And rewarded thou shalt bee,
Of that take thou noe doubt.’

XXV

Five score knights he made on a day,
And dubb’d them with his hands;
Rewarded them right worthilye
With the townes in merry England.

XXVI

And when the fresh knights they were made,
To battell they buske[1031] them bowne[1032];
Jamès Douglas he went before,
And he thought to have wonnen him shoone.

XXVII

But they were mett in a morning of May
With the comminaltye of litle England;
But there scapèd never a man away,
Through the might of Christès hand.

XXVIII

But all onely Jamès Douglas;
In Durham in the ffeild
An arrow stroke him in the thye;
Fast flinges he towards the King.

XXIX

The King looked toward litle Durham,
Saies, ‘All things is not weel!
For James Douglas beares an arrow in his thye,
The head of it is of steele.

XXX

‘How now, James?’ then said the King,
‘How now, how may this bee?
And where beene all thy merrymen
That thou tooke hence with thee?’

XXXI

‘But cease, my King,’ saies James Douglas,
‘Alive is not left a man!’
‘Now by my faith,’ saies the King of Scotts,
‘That gate was evil gone.

XXXII

‘But I’le revenge thy quarrell well,
And of that thou may be fain;
For one Scott will beate five Englishmen,
If they meeten them on the plaine.’

XXXIII

‘Now hold your tongue,’ saies James Douglas,
‘For in faith that is not soe;
For one English man is worth five Scotts,
When they meeten together thoe[1033].

XXXIV

‘For they are as eager men to fight
As a faulcon upon a prey;
Alas! if ever they winne the vanward,
There scapes noe man away.’

XXXV

‘O peace thy talking,’ said the King,
‘They bee but English knaves,
But shepards and millers both,
And priestès with their staves.’

XXXVI

The King sent forth one of his heralds of armes
To vew the Englishmen:
‘Be of good cheere,’ the herald said,
‘For against one we be ten.’

XXXVII

‘Who leads those lads?’ said the King of Scotts,
‘Thou herald, tell thou mee’:
The herald said, ‘The Bishop of Durham
Is captaine of that companye.

XXXVIII

‘For the Bishop hath spred the King’s banner,
And to battell he buskes him bowne’;
‘I sweare by St Andrewes bones,’ saies the King,
‘I’le rapp that priest on the crowne!’

XXXIX

The King look’d towards litle Durham,
And that hee well beheld,
That the Earle Percy was well arm’d,
With his battell-axe entred the feild.

XL

The King look’d again towards litle Durham,
Four ancyents[1034] there saw he;
There were two standards, six in a valley,
He cold not see them with his eye.

XLI

My Lord of Yorke was one of them,
My Lord of Carlile was the other,
And my Lord Fitzwilliams,
The Bishop came with the other.

XLII

The Bishop of Durham commanded his men,
And shortlye he them bade,
That never a man shold goe to fight
Till he had served his God.

XLIII

Five hundred priests said mass that day
In Durham in the field,
And afterwards, as I hard say,
They bare both spear and shield.

XLIV

The Bishop orders himselfe to fight,
With his battell-axe in his hand;
He said, ‘This day now I will fight
As long as I can stand!’

XLV

‘And soe will I,’ sayd my Lord of Carlile,
‘In this faire morning gay’;
‘And soe will I,’ said my Lord Fitzwilliams,
‘For Mary, that mild may[1035].’

XLVI

Our English archers bent their bowes
Shortly and anon;
They shot over the Scottish oast
And scantly toucht a man.

XLVII

‘Hold downe your hands,’ sayd the Bishop of Durham,
‘My archers good and true’!
The second shootè that they shott,
Full sore the Scots it rue.

XLVIII

The Bishop of Durham spoke on hie,
That both partyes might heare:
‘Be of good cheere, my merrymen all,
They flyen and changen their cheere!’

XLIX

But as they saidden, see they didden,
They fell on heapès hie;
Our Englishmen laid on with their bowes,
As fast as they might drie.

L

The King of Scotts in a study stood
Amongst his companye;
An arrow stoke him thoro’ the nose,
And thoro’ his armorye.

LI

The King went to a marsh-side
And light beside his steede;
He leanèd him downe on his swordhilts,
To let his nosè bleede.

LII

There follow’d him a yeaman of merry England,
His name was John of Coplande:
‘Yeeld thee, traytor!’ saies Coplande then,
‘Thy life lies in my hand.’

LIII

‘How shold I yeeld me,’ sayes the King,
‘And thou art noe gentleman?’--
‘Noe, by my troth,’ sayes Copland there,
‘I am but a poore yeaman.

LIV

‘What art thou better then I, Sir King?
Tell me if that thou can!
What art thou better then I, Sir King,
Now we be but man to man?’

LV

The King smote angerly at Copland,
Angerly in that stonde;
Then Copland was a bold yeaman,
And bore the King to the ground.

LVI

He sett the King on a palfrey,
Himselfe upon a steede;
He tooke him by the bridle-rayne,
Towards London he can him lead.

LVII

And when to London that he came,
The King from Ffrance was come home,
And there unto the King of Scotts
He sayd these words anon.--

LVIII

‘How like you my shepards and my millers?
My priests with shaven crownes?’--
‘By my fayth, they are the sorest fighters
That ever I mett on the ground.

LIX

‘There was never a yeaman in merry England
But was worth a Scottish knight.’--
‘Ay, by my troth,’ said King Edward, and laughe,
‘For you fought all against the right.’

LX

But now the prince of merry England,
Worthilye under his sheelde,
Hath taken captive the King of France,
At Poytiers in the field.

LXI

The prince did present his father
With the lovely King of France,
And forward of his journey he is gone:
God send us all good chance!

LXII

Sayd the King of Scots to the King of France,
‘Well met, brother, too soone!
Christ leeve that I had taken my way
Unto the court of Roome!’

LXIII

‘And soe wold I,’ said the King of France,
‘When I came over the streame,
That I had taken my journey
Unto Jerusalem!’

LXIV

Thus ends the battell of fair Durham,
In one morning of May;
The battells of Cressey and of Poytiers,
All within one monthes day.

LXV

Then was wealthe and welfare in merry England,
Solaces, game, and glee,
And every man loved other well,
And the King loved good yeomanrye.

LXVI

But God that made the grasse to growe,
And leaves on greenwoode tree,
Now save and keepe our noble King,
And maintaine good yeomanrye!

FOOTNOTES:

[1023] buskèd = dressed.

[1024] bowne = ready.

[1025] stounde = time.

[1026] leeve = dear, pleasant.

[1027] hansell = foretaste.

[1028] Anguish = Angus.

[1029] Hambleton = Hamilton.

[1030] breeme = fierce.

[1031] buske = addressed.

[1032] bowne = ready.

[1033] thoe = those.

[1034] ancyents = ensigns.

[1035] may = maiden.

_127. The Battle of Otterburn_

I

It fell about the Lammas tide
When husbands[1036] win their hay,
The doughty Douglas bound him to ride
In England to take a prey.

II

He has chosen the Graemes, and the Lindsays light,
And the gallant Gordons gay;
And the Earl of Fyfe withouten strife,
He’s bound him over Solwày.

III

They come in over Ottercap Hill,
So down by Rodeley Cragge;
Upon Green Leyton they lighted down
Styrande[1037] many a stagge.

IV

And they have brent[1038] the dales of Tyne,
And harryed Bamborowe shire,
And the Otter Dale they have brent it hale[1039]
And left it a’ on fire.

V

Then spake a berne[1040] upon the bent[1041],
Of comfort that was not cold,
And said, ‘We have brent Northumberland,
We have all wealth in hold.

VI

‘Now we have harryed all Bamborowe shire,
All the wealth in the world have we:
I rede[1042] we ryde to Newcastell
So still and stalworthlye.’

VII

Upon the morrow, when it was day,
The standards shone full bright;
To Newcastell they took the way,
And thither they came full right.

VIII

To Newcastell when that they came,
The Douglas cry’d on hyght:
‘Harry Percy, an thou bidest within,
Come to the field, and fight!--

IX

‘For we have brent Northumberland,
Thy herytage good and right;
And syne my lodging I have ta’en,
With my brand dubb’d many a knight.’

X

Sir Harry Percy came to the walls
The Scottish host for to see,
Sayd, ‘An thou hast brent Northumberland,
Full sore it rueth me.

XI

‘If thou hast haryed all Bamborowe shire,
Thou hast done me great envye;
For this trespasse thou hast me done
The tone[1043] of us shall die.’

XII

‘Where shall I bide thee?’ sayd the Douglas,
‘Or where wilt thou come to me?’--
‘But gae ye up to Otterbourne,
And wait there dayès three.

XIII

‘The roe full rekeles[1044] there she rins,
To make the game and glee;
The falcon and the phesant both,
To fend[1045] thy men and thee.

XIV

‘There may’st thou have thy wealth at will,
Well lodg’d thou there may’st be:
It shall not be long ere I come thee till[1046],’
Sayd Sir Harry Percy.

XV

‘There shall I bide thee,’ sayd the Douglas,
‘By the faith of my bodye.’--
‘There shall I come,’ said Sir Harry Percy,
‘My troth I plight to thee.’

XVI

A pipe of wine over the wall,
He gave them [to their pay[1047]],
There he made the Douglas drinke,
And all his host that day.

XVII

The Douglas turn’d him homeward again,
[And rode withouten stay];
He pyght[1048] his standard at Otterbourne
Upon a Wedensday.

XVIII

And syne he warned his men to go
To choose their geldings grass;
[And he that had no man to send]
His own servant he was.

XIX

A Scottish knight hoved[1049] on the bent[1050]
At watch, I dare well say,
So was he ware of the noble Percy
In the dawning of the day.

XX

He pryck’d to his pavilion[1051] door
As fast as he might run:
‘Awaken, Douglas!’ cried the knight,
‘For his sake that sits in throne!

XXI

‘Awaken, Douglas!’ cried the knight,
‘For thou mayst wake with wynne[1052]!
Yonder have I spied the proud Percy,
And seven standards with him.’

XXII

‘Now by my troth,’ the Douglas sayd,
‘It is but a faynèd[1053] tale!
He durst not look on my broad banner
[Were all England in] hail!

XXIII

‘Was I not yesterday at Newcastell
That stands so fair on Tyne?
For all the men the Percy had
He could not gar me to dine[1054].’

XXIV

He stepp’d out at his pavilion-door
To look an it were lease[1055]:
‘Array you, lordings, one and all!
For here begins no peace.

XXV

‘The Earl of Menteith, thou art my eme[1056],
The vaward[1057] I give to thee:
The Earl of Huntley, cante[1058] and keen,
Take him to go with thee.

XXVI

‘The Lord of Buchan, in armure bright,
On the other side he shall be;
Lord Johnstone and Lord Maxwell
They two shall go with me.

XXVII

‘Swynton, fair fall upon your pride!
To battle make you bowne[1059].--
Sir Davy Scott, Sir Walter Steward,
Sir John of Agerstone!’

XXVIII

The Percy came before his host,
He was ever a gentil knight:
Upon the Douglas loud can he cry
‘I will hold that I have hyght[1060].’

XXIX

‘For thou hast brent Northumberland,
And done me great envye,
For this trespasse thou hast me done
The tone of us shall die.’

XXX

The Douglas answer’d him again
With great words upon hie,
And sayd, ‘I have twenty against thy one:
Behold, and thou mayst see!’

XXXI

With that the Percy was grievèd sore,
Forsooth as I you say:
He lighted down upon his foot
And schoote[1061] his horse away.

XXXII

Every man saw that he did so,
That ryal was ever in rowghte[1062]:
Every man schoote his horse him fro
And lighted him round about.

XXXIII

Sir Harry Percy took the field
Even thus, as I you say;
Jesus Christe in hevyn on height
Did help him well that day.

XXXIV

But nine thousand, there was no more--
The chronicle will not layne[1063]--
Forty thousand of Scots and four
That day fought them again[1064].

XXXV

But when the battel began to join,
In haste there came a knight;
And letters fair forth hath he ta’en,
And thus he sayd full right:

XXXVI

‘My lord your father greets you well,
With many a noble knight;
He doth desire you now to bide,
That he may see this fight.

XXXVII

‘The Baron of Graystoke is out of the west
With a noble companye:
All they lodge at your father’s this night,
And the battel fayn would they see.’

XXXVIII

‘For Jesus’ love,’ sayd Sir Harry Percy,
‘That died for you and me,
Wend to my lord my father agayn,
Say thou saw me not with thee.

XXXIX

‘My troth is plight to yon Scottish knight,
--It nede’s me not to layne--
That I should bide him upon this bent,
And I have his troth agayn.

XL

‘And if that I wend off this growende[1065],
Forsooth, unfoughten away,
He would call me but a coward knight
In his land another day.

XLI

‘Yet had I liefer be rynde[1066] and rent,
--By Mary, that mickle may[1067]!--
Than ever my manhood be reproved
With a Scot another day.

XLII

‘Wherefore shoot, archers, for my sake!
And let sharp arrows flee.
Minstrels, play up for your waryson[1068]!
And well quit it shall be.

XLIII

‘Every man thynke on his true-love,
And mark him to the Trinitye:
For unto God I make mine avowe
This day will I not flee.’

XLIV

The blodye herte in the Douglas arms
His standard stood on hie,
That every man might full wel knowe;
Bysyde stood starrès three.

XLV

The white lion on the English part,
Forsooth as I you sayn,
The lucettes[1069] and the cressants both
The Scot fought them again.

XLVI

Upon Seynt Andrewe loud can they crye,
And thrice they showt on hyght,
Syne mark’d them on our English men,
As I have told you right.

XLVII

Seynt George the bryght, Our Ladye’s knyght,
To name they were full fayne;
Our English men they cry’d on hyght,
And thrice they shot agayne.

XLVIII

With that sharp arrows began to flee,
I tell you in certayne:
Men of arms began to joyne,
Many a doughty man was slayne.

XLIX

The Percy and the Douglas met
That either of other was fayne;
They swapp’d[1070] together while they swet[1071]
With swords of fyne Collayne[1072]:

L

Until the blood from their bassonets[1073] ran
As the roke[1074] doth in the rayne;
‘Yield thou to me,’ sayd the Douglas,
‘Or elles thou shall be slayne.

LI

‘For I see by thy bryght bassonet
Thou art some man of myght:
And so I do by thy burnysh’d brand,
Thou’rt an earl or elles a knyght.’

LII

‘By my good faith,’ said the noble Percye,
‘Now hast thou rede full ryght;
Yet will I never yield me to thee,
While I may stand and fyght.’

LIII

They swapp’d together, while that they swet,
With swordès sharp and long;
Each on other so fast they bette[1075],
Their helms came in pieces down.

LIV

The Percy was a man of strength,
I tell you in this stounde[1076]:
He smote the Douglas at the sword’s length
That he fell to the grounde.

LV

The Douglas call’d to his little foot-page,
And sayd, ‘Run speedilye,
And fetch my ain dear sister’s son,
Sir Hugh Montgomery.

LVI

‘My nephew good,’ the Douglas sayd,
‘What recks the death of ane?
Last night I dream’d a dreary dream,
And I ken the day’s thy ain.

LVII

‘My wound is deep: I am fayn to sleep,
Take thou the vaward of me,
And hide me by the bracken bush
Grows on yon lilye-lee.’

LVIII

He has lifted up that noble lord
With the saut tears in his e’e;
He has hidden him in the bracken bush
That his merry men might not see.

LIX

The standards stood still on eke side;
With many a grievous groan
They fought that day, and all the night;
Many a doughtye man was slone.

LX

The morn was clear, the day drew nie,
--Yet stiffly in stowre[1077] they stood;
Echone hewing another while they might drie,
Till aye ran down the blood.

LXI

The Percy and Montgomery met
That either of other was fayn:
They swappèd swords, and they two met
Till the blood ran down between.

LXII

‘Now yield thee, yield thee, Percy,’ he said,
‘Or I vow I’le lay thee low!’
‘To whom shall I yield?’ said Earl Percy,
‘Now I see it maun be so.’--

LXIII

‘Thou shalt not yield to lord nor loun,
Nor yet shalt thou to me;
But yield thee to the bracken bush
Grows on yon lilye-lee.’--

LXIV

‘I winna yield to a bracken bush,
Nor yet I will to a brere[1078];
But I would yield to Earl Douglas,
Or Montgomery if he was here.’

LXV

As soon as he knew Montgomery,
He stuck his sword’s point in ground;
The Montgomery was a courteous knight,
And quickly took him by the hand.

LXVI

There was slayne upon the Scottès’ side,
For sooth and certaynlye,
Sir James a Douglas there was slayne,
That day that he cou’d dye.

LXVII

The Earl of Menteith he was slayne,
And gryselye[1079] groan’d on the groun’;
Sir Davy Scott, Sir Walter Steward,
Sir John of Agerstone.

LXVIII

Sir Charlès Murray in that place
That never a foot would flee;
Sir Hew Maxwell, a lord he was,
With the Douglas did he dee.

LXIX

There was slayne upon the Scottès’ side
For sooth as I you say,
Of four and fifty thousand Scottes
Went but eighteen away.

LXX

There was slayne upon the English side
For sooth and certaynlye,
A gentle Knight, Sir John Fitzhughe,
It was the more pitye.

LXXI

Sir James Hardbotell there was slayne,
For him their heartes were sore;
The gentle Lovell there was slayne,
That the Percy’s standard bore.

LXXII

There was slayne upon the English part
For sooth as I you say,
Of ninè thousand English men
Five hundred came away.

LXXIII

The others slayne were in the field;
Christ keep their souls from woe!
Seeing there was so fewè friends
Against so many a foe.

LXXIV

Then on the morn they made them bieres
Of birch and hazell gray:
Many a widow with weeping teares
Their makes[1080] they fette[1081] away.

LXXV

This fray was fought at Otterbourne,
Between the night and the day;
Earl Douglas was buried at the bracken bush,
And the Percy led captive away.

LXXVI

Now let us all for the Percy pray
To Jesu most of might,
To bring his soul to the bliss of heaven,
For he was a gentle knight.

FOOTNOTES:

[1036] husbands = husbandmen.

[1037] Styrande = stirring, rousing.

[1038] brent = burned.

[1039] hale = whole.

[1040] berne = fighting-man.

[1041] bent = coarse grass.

[1042] rede = counsel.

[1043] tone = one of two.

[1044] rekeles = reckless, wild.

[1045] fend = provide for.

[1046] till = to.

[1047] pay = satisfaction.

[1048] pyght = pitched.

[1049] hoved = abode.

[1050] bent = grass.

[1051] pavilion = tent.

[1052] wynne = joy.

[1053] faynèd = feigned.

[1054] gar me to dine = give me my fill, entertain me (at fighting).

[1055] lease = leasing, falsehood.

[1056] eme = uncle.

[1057] vaward = vanguard.

[1058] cante = spirited.

[1059] bowne = ready.

[1060] that I have hyght = what I have promised.

[1061] schoote = thrust, sent quickly.

[1062] ryal in rowghte = royal in rout, a king amongst men.

[1063] layne = conceal.

[1064] them again = against them.

[1065] growende = ground.

[1066] rynde = riven, or flayed.

[1067] mickle may = mighty maid.

[1068] waryson = reward.

[1069] lucettes = luces, pikes (heraldic).

[1070] swapp’d = smote.

[1071] swet = sweated.

[1072] Collayne = Cologne steel.

[1073] bassonets = steel skull-caps.

[1074] roke = reek, mist.

[1075] bette = beat.

[1076] stounde = time.

[1077] stowre = press of battle.

[1078] brere = briar.

[1079] gryselye = in a grisly manner, terribly.

[1080] makes = mates.

[1081] fette = fetched.

_128. Chevy Chase_

_Fytte I_

I

The Percy out of Northumberland,
An avow to God made he
That he would hunt in the mountains
Of Cheviot within days three,
In the maugre[1082] of doughty Douglas,
And all that e’er with him be.

II

The fattest harts in all Cheviot
He would kill and carry away.--
‘By my faith,’ said the doughty Douglas again,
‘I will let[1083] that hunting if I may!’

III

Then the Percy out of Banborowe came,
With him a mighty meinye[1084],
With fifteen hundred archers bold
Chosen out of shirès three.

IV

This began on a Monday at morn,
In Cheviot the hills so hye;
The child may rue that is unborn,
It was the more pitye.

V

The drivers through the woodès went
[All] for to raise the deer,
Bowmen bicker’d[1085] upon the bent[1086]
With their broad arrows clear.

VI

Then the wild[1087] thoro’ the woodès went
On every sidè shear[1088];
Greyhounds thoro’ the grevès[1089] glent[1090]
For to kill their deer.

VII

This began on Cheviot the hills abune
Early on a Monenday;
By that it drew to the hour of noon
A hundred fat harts dead there lay.

VIII

They blew a mort[1091] upon the bent,
They ’sembled on sidès shear;
To the quarry[1092] then the Percy went
To the brittling[1093] of the deer.

IX

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.

X

At the last a squire of Northumberland
Lookèd at his hand full nigh;
He was ware o’ the doughty Douglas coming,
With him a great meinye.

XI

Both with speär, bill and brand,--
’Twas a mighty sight to see;
Hardier men both of heart nor hand
Were not in Christiantè.

XII

They were twenty hundred spearmen good,
Withouten any fail:
They were born along by the water o’ Tweed
I’ the boun’s[1094] o’ Teviotdale.

XIII

‘Leave off the brittling of deer,’ he said;
‘To your bows look ye take good heed,
For sith ye were on your mothers born
Had ye never so mickle need.’

XIV

The doughty Douglas on a steed
Rode all his men beforn,
His armour glitter’d as did a gleed[1095],
Bolder bairn[1096] was never born.

XV

‘Tell me whose men ye are,’ he says,
‘Or whose men that ye be;
Who gave you leave in this Cheviot chase
In the spite of mine and of me?’

XVI

The first man that him answer made
It was the good Lord Percye:
‘We will not tell thee whose men we are,
Nor whose men that we be;
But we will hunt here in this chase
In the spite of thine and of thee.

XVII

‘The fattest harts in all Cheviot
We have kill’d, to carry away.’--
‘By my troth,’ said the doughty Douglas again,
‘The one of us dies this day.

XVIII

‘[Yet] to kill allè these guiltless men
Alas, it were great pitye!
But, Percy, thou art a lord of land,
I an earl in my countrye--
Let all our men on a party[1097] stand,
And do battle of thee and me!’

XIX

‘Christ’s curse on his crown,’ said the lord Percye,
‘Whosoever thereto says nay!
By my troth, thou doughty Douglas,’ he says,
‘Thou shalt never see that day--

XX

--‘Neither in England, Scotland nor France,
Nor for no man of woman born,
But, that (and fortune be my chance)
I dare meet him, one man for one.’

XXI

Then bespake a squire of Northumberland,
Richard Witherington was his name;
‘It shall never be told in South England
To King Harry the Fourth for shame.

XXII

‘I wot you bin great lordès two,
I am a poor squire of land;
[Yet] I’ll ne’er see my captain fight on a field
And stand myself and look on.
But while that I may my weapon wield
I’ll not fail, both heart and hand.’

XXIII

That day, that day, that dreadful day!--
The first fytte[1098] here I find:
An you’ll hear any more o’ the hunting of Cheviot,
Yet there is more behind.

_Fytte II_

XXIV

The Englishmen had their bows y-bent,
Their hearts were good enow;
The first of arrows that they shot off
Seven score spearmen they slew.

XXV

Yet bides the Earl Douglas upon the bent,
A captain good enoghe;
And that was seenè verament,
For he wrought them both woe and wouche[1099].

XXVI

The Douglas parted his host in three,
Like a chief chieftain of pride;
With surè spears of mighty tree[1100]
They came in on every side;

XXVII

--Throughè our English archery
Gave many a woond full wide;
Many a doughty[1101] they gar’d to dye,
Which gainèd them no pride.

XXVIII

The Englishmen let their bowès be,
And pull’d out brands that were bright;
It was a heavy sight to see
Bright swords on basnets[1102] light.

XXIX

Thoro’ rich mail and manoplie[1103]
Many stern[1104] they struck down straight;
Many a freyke[1105] that was full free
There under foot did light.

XXX

At last the Douglas and the Percy met,
Like to captains of might and of main;
They swapt[1106] together till they both swat[1107]
With swordès of fine Milan.

XXXI

These worthy freykès for to fight
Thereto they were full fain,
Till the blood out of their basnets sprent[1108]
As ever did hail or rain.

XXXII

‘Yield thee, Percy,’ said the Douglas,
‘And i’ faith I shall thee bring
Where thou shalt have an Earl’s wages
Of Jamie our Scottish king.

XXXIII

‘Thou shaltè have thy ransom free,
--I hight[1109] thee here this thing;
For the manfullest man thou art that e’er
I conquer’d in field fighting.’

XXXIV

But ‘Nay’, then said the lord Percye,
‘I told it thee beforn
That I would never yielded be
To man of a woman born.’

XXXV

With that an arrow came hastily
Forth of a mighty wane[1110];
And it hath stricken the Earl Douglas
In at the breastè-bane.

XXXVI

Thoro’ liver and lungès both
The sharp arròw is gone,
That never after in his life-days
He spake mo words but one:
’Twas, ‘Fight ye, my merry men, whiles ye may,
For my life-days bin gone!’

XXXVII

The Percy leanèd on his brand
And saw the Douglas dee;
He took the dead man by the hand,
And said, ‘Woe is me for thee!

XXXVIII

‘To have sav’d thy life I’d have parted with
My lands for yearès three,
For a better man of heart nor of hand
Was not in the north countrye.’

XXXIX

[All this there saw] a Scottish knight,
Sir Hugh the Montgomerye:
When he saw Douglas to the death was dight[1111],
Through a hundred archerye
He never stint[1112] nor he never blint[1113]
Till he came to the lord Percye.

XL

He set upon the lord Percỳ
A dint[1114] that was full sore;
With a surè spear of a mighty tree
Thro’ the body him he bore,
O’ the t’other side that a man might see
A large cloth-yard and more.

XLI

An archer of Northumberland
Saw slain was the lord Percye:
He bare a bent bow in his hand,
Was made of a trusty tree.

XLII

An arrow that was a cloth-yard long
To the hard steel halèd[1115] he,
A dint that was both sad and sair
He set on Montgomerye.

XLIII

The dint it was both sad and sair
That he on Montgomerye set;
The swan-feathers that his arrow bare
With his heart-blood they were wet.

XLIV

There was never a freykè one foot would flee,
But still in stoure[1116] did stand;
Hewing on each other, while they might dree[1117],
With many a baleful brand.

XLV

This battle began in Cheviot
An hour before the noon,
And when the even-song bell was rung
The battle was not half done.

XLVI

They took [their stand] on either hand
By the [lee][1118] light of the moon;
Many had no strength for to stand
In Cheviot the hills abune.

XLVII

Of fifteen hundred archers of England
Went away but seventy-and-three;
Of twenty hundred spearmen of Scotland
But even five-and-fiftỳ.

XLVIII

There was slain with the bold Percye
Sir John of Agerstoune,
Sir Roger, the hendè[1119] Hartley,
Sir William, the bold Herone.

XLIX

Sir George, the worthy Loumlye,
A knight of great renown,
Sir Ralph, the richè Rabye,
With dints were beaten down.

L

For Witherington my heart was woe
That ever he slain should be:
For when both his legs were hewn in two
Yet he kneel’d and fought on his knee.

LI

There was slayn with the doughty Douglas
Sir Hugh the Montgomerye,
Sir Davy Lambwell, that worthy was,
His sister’s son was he.

LII

Sir Charles a Murray in that place,
That never a foot would flee:
Sir Hew Maxwell, a lord he was,
With the Douglas did he dee.

LIII

So on the morrow they made them biers
Of birch and hazel so gray;
Many widows with weeping tears
Came to fetch their makes[1120] away.

LIV

Teviotdale may carp[1121] of care,
Northumberland may make moan,
For two such captains as slain were there
On the March-parts shall never be none.

LV

Word is come to Edinboro’,
To Jamie the Scottish King,
Earl Douglas, lieutenant of the Marches,
Lay slain Cheviot within.

LVI

His hands the King did weal[1122] and wring,
Said, ‘Alas! and woe is me!
Such another captain Scotland within
I’ faith shall never be!’

LVII

Word is come to lovely London,
To the fourth Harry, our King,
Lord Percy, lieutenant of the Marches,
Lay slain Cheviot within.

LVIII

‘God have mercy on his soul,’ said King Harry,
‘Good Lord, if thy will it be!
I’ve a hundred captains in England,’ he said,
‘As good as ever was he:
But Percy, an I brook[1123] my life,
Thy death well quit shall be.’

LIX

And as our King made his avow
Like a noble prince of renown,
For Percy he did it well perform
After, on Homble-down;

LX

Where six-and-thirty Scottish knights
On a day were beaten down;
Glendale[1124] glitter’d on their armour bright
Over castle, tower and town.

LXI

This was the Hunting of the Cheviot;
That e’er began this spurn[1125]!
Old men, that knowen the ground well,
Call it of Otterburn.

LXII

There was never a time on the Marche-partès
Since the Douglas and Percy met,
But ’tis marvel an the red blood run not
As the reane[1126] does in the street.

LXIII

Jesu Christ! our balès[1127] bete[1128],
And to the bliss us bring!
This was the Hunting of the Cheviot:
God send us all good endìng!

FOOTNOTES:

[1082] maugre = despite.

[1083] let = hinder.

[1084] meinye = company.

[1085] bicker’d = attacked, skirmished.

[1086] bent = rough grass.

[1087] wild = game, deer.

[1088] shear = several.

[1089] grevès = groves.

[1090] glent = glanced, darted.

[1091] mort = death of the deer.

[1092] quarry = dead game.

[1093] brittling = cutting up.

[1094] boun’s = boundaries.

[1095] gleed = live coal.

[1096] bairn = fighting man.

[1097] on a party = apart.

[1098] fytte = division of a ballad.

[1099] wouche = evil.

[1100] tree = timber.

[1101] doughty = doughty man.

[1102] basnets = steel caps.

[1103] manoplie = long gauntlet.

[1104] stern = stern men, warriors.

[1105] freyke = bold fellow.

[1106] swapt = smote.

[1107] swat = sweated.

[1108] sprent = spurted.

[1109] hight = promise.

[1110] wane = host, multitude.

[1111] dight = done, doomed.

[1112] stint = stayed.

[1113] blint = stopped.

[1114] dint = stroke, lunge.

[1115] halèd = pulled.

[1116] stoure = press of battle.

[1117] dree = endure.

[1118] lee = fair, bright.

[1119] hendè = courteous, gentle.

[1120] makes = mates.

[1121] carp = talk.

[1122] weal = clench.

[1123] brook = retain.

[1124] Glendale = one of the six ‘wards’ of Northumberland. Homildon was here.

[1125] spurn = fray(?).

[1126] reane = gutter.

[1127] balès = woes.

[1128] bete = better, relieve.

_129. Northumberland Betrayed by Douglas_

I

Now list and lithe, you gentlemen,
And I’st tell you the veretye,
How they have dealt with a banish’d man,
Driven out of his owne countrye.

II

When as he came on Scottish ground,
As woe and wonder be them amonge!
Full much was there traitorye
They wrought the Erle of Northumberland.

III

When they were at the supper set,
Before many goodly gentlemen,
They fell a flouting and mocking both,
And said to the Erle of Northumberland:

IV

‘What makes you be soe sad, my lord,
And in your mind soe sorrowfullye?
In the north to-morrow there is a shooting,
And thither thou’st goe, my Lord Percye.

V

‘The buttes are sett, and the shooting is made,
And there is like to be great royaltye,
And I am sworne into my bill[1129]
Thither to bring my Lord Percye.’

VI

‘I’le give thee my hand, Douglas,’ he says,
‘And by the faith in my bodye,
If that thou wilt ryde to the worldis end,
Then I’le ryde in thy companye.’

VII

And then bespake the good ladye,
Mary a Douglas was her name:
‘You shall byde here, good English lord;
My brother is a traitorous man.

VIII

‘He is a traitor stout and stronge,
As I’st tell you the veretye;
For he hath ta’en ’liverance of the Erle,
And into England he will ‘liver thee.’--

IX

‘Now hold thy tongue, thou goodly ladye,
Now all this talking let a-bee;
For all the gold that’s in Lough Leven,
William wo’ld not ’liver mee.

X

‘It wo’ld breake truce betweene England and Scottland,
And freinds againe they wo’ld never bee,
If he sho’ld ‘liver a banisht erle,
Was driven out of his owne countrye.’--

XI

‘Hold your tounge, my lord,’ she sayes,
‘There is much falsehood them amonge;
Soone they will part them freinds againe,
When you are dead, then they are done.

XII

‘If you will give me any trust, my lord,
I’le tell you how you best may bee;
You’st let my brother ryde his wayes,
And tell those English lords, trulye,

XIII

‘How that you cannot with them ryde,
Because you are in an isle of the sea;
Then, ere my brother come againe,
To Edenborrow castle I’le carry thee.

XIV

‘I’le ’liver you unto the Lord Hume,
And you know a trew Scothe lord is hee,
For he hath lost both land and goods
In ayding of your good bodye.’--

XV

‘Marry, I am woe, woman,’ he sayes,
‘That any friend fares worse for me;
For where one saith it is a true tale,
Then two will say it is a lee.

XVI

‘When that I was at home in my realme,
Amonge my tennants all trulye,
In my time of losse, wherin my need stoode,
They came to ayd me honestlye.

XVII

‘Therefore I left a many a child fatherlese,
And many a widdow to looke wanne;
Therefore do thou blame nothing, ladye,
But the woeffull warres which I began.’--

XVIII

‘If you will give me noe trust, my lord,
Nor noe credence you will give mee,
An you’le come hither to my right hand,
Indeed, my lord, I’le let you see,’--

XIX

Says, ‘I never loved noe witchcraft,
Nor never dealt with treacherye,
But evermore held the hye way;
Alas, that may be seene by mee!’--

XX

‘If you will not come your selfe, my lord,
You’le lett your chamberlaine goe with me,
Three words that I may to him speake,
And soone he shall come againe to thee.’

XXI

When James Swynard came that lady before,
She let him see thro’ the weme[1130] of her ring
How many there was of English lords
To wayte[1131] there for his master and him.

XXII

‘But who beene yonder, my good ladye,
That walkes soe royallye on yond greene?’--
‘Yond is Lord Hunsden, Jamye,’ she sayd,
‘Alas, he’le doe you both tree and teene[1132]!’--

XXIII

‘And who beene yonder, thou gay ladye,
That walkes soe royallye him beside?’--
‘Yond’s Sir William Drurye, Jamye,’ she sayd,
‘And a keene captain he is, and tryde.’--

XXIV

‘How many miles is’t, thou good ladye,
Betwixt yond English lord and mee?’--
‘Marry, thrice fifty mile, Jamye,’ she sayd,
‘And even to sayle and by the sea.

XXV

‘I never was on English ground,
Nor never see it with mine eye,
But as my wit and wisedome serves,
And as the booke it telleth mee.

XXVI

‘My mother, she was a witch woman,
And part of it she learnèd mee;
She wo’ld let me see out of Lough Leven
What they dyd in London citye.’--

XXVII

‘But who is yond, thou good ladye,
Comes yonder with an osterne[1133] face?’
‘Yond’s Sir John Forster, Jamye,’ she sayd;
‘Alas! he’ll do ye sore disgrace.’

XXVIII

He pulled his hat downe over his eyes,
And, Lord, he wept soe tenderlye!
He is gone unto his master againe,
And even to tell him the veretye.

XXIX

‘Now hast thou beene with Mary,’ he sayd,
‘Even as thy tounge will tell to mee;
But if thou trust any woman’s words,
Thou must refraine good companye.’

XXX

‘It is noe words, my lord,’ he sayes;
‘Yonder the men she lets me see,
How many English lords there is
Is wayting there for you and mee.

XXXI

‘Yonder I see the Lord Hunsden,
And he and you is of third degree[1134];
A greater enemye, indeed, my Lord,
In England never a one have yee.’--

XXXII

‘And I have beene in Lough Leven
The most part of these yeerès three:
Yet had I never noe out-rake[1135],
Nor good gamès that I co’ld see.

XXXIII

‘And I am thus bidden to yonder shooting
By William Douglas all trulye;
Therfore speake never a word of thy mouth
That thou thinkès will hinder me.’

XXXIV

Then he writhe the gold ring of his fingar
And gave it to that gay ladye;
Sayes, ‘That was a legacye left unto mee
In Harley woods where I co’ld bee.’--

XXXV

‘Then ffarewell hart, and farewell hand,
And ffarwell all good companye!
That woman shall never beare a sonne
Shall know soe much of your privitye.’--

XXXVI

‘Now hold thy tongue, ladye,’ he sayde,
‘And make not all this dole for me,
For I may well drinke, but I’st never eate,
Till ance againe in Lough Leven I bee.’

XXXVII

He tooke his boate at the Lough Leven,
For to sayle now over the sea,
And he hath cast up a silver wand,
Says, ‘Fare thou well, my good ladye!’
The ladye looked owre her left sholder;
In a dead swoone there down fell she.

XXXVIII

‘Goe backe againe, Douglas!’ he sayd,
‘And I will goe in thy companye;
For sudden sicknesse yonder lady has tane,
And ever, alas, she will but dye!

XXXIX

‘If ought come to yonder ladye but good,
Then blamèd sore that I shall bee,
Because a banish’d man I am,
And driven out of my owne countrye.’--

XL

‘Come on, come on, my lord,’ he sayes,
‘And all such talking let a-bee;
There’s ladyes enow left in Lough Leven
For to cheere yonder gay ladye.’

XLI

‘An you will not goe your selfe, my lord,
You will lett my chamberlaine go with mee;
We shall now take our boate againe,
And soone wee shall overtake thee.’--

XLII

‘Come on, come on, my lord,’ he sayes,
‘And all this talking now let a-bee;
For my sister is craftye enoughe
For to beguile thousands such as you and mee.’

XLIII

When they had saylèd fifty myle,
Now fifty myle upon the sea,
Hee asked, ‘How ffarr is it to that shooting
That William Douglas promised me?’--

XLIV

‘Now faire words makès foolès faine,
And that may be seene by thy master and thee;
For happen you’ll think it soone enoughe
Whenever you that shooting see.’

XLV

Jamye pulled his hat now over his browe,
I wot the teares fell in his e’e;
And he is to his master againe,
And for to tell him the veretye.

XLVI

‘He says fayre words makes foolès faine,
And that may be seene by you and mee,
For happen we’ll thinke it soone enoughe
Whenever we that shooting see.’

XLVII

‘Hold upp thy head, Jamye,’ the Erle sayd,
‘And never let thy hart fayle thee;
He did it but to prove thee with,
And see how thow wo’ld take with death trulye.’

XLVIII

When they had sayl’d other fifty mile,
Other fifty mile upon the sea,
Lord Percye called to him, himselfe,
Sayd, ‘Douglas, what wilt thou doe with mee?’

XLIX

‘Looke that your brydle be wight[1136], my lord,
That you may goe as a shipp at sea;
Looke that your spurres be bright and sharpe,
That you may pricke her while she’le awaye.’

L

‘What needeth this, Douglas,’ he sayth,
‘That thou needest to ffloutè mee?
For I was counted a horsseman good
Before that ever I met with thee.

LI

‘A ffalsè Hector hath my horsse,
And ever an evill death may hee dye!
And Willye Armestronge hath my spurres
And all the geere belongs to mee.’

LII

When they had sayled other fifty mile,
Other fifty mile upon the sea,
They landed low by Berwicke-side;
[Soe Douglas betray’d the] Lord Percye.

FOOTNOTES:

[1129] into my bill = on paper, in writing.

[1130] weme = inward.

[1131] wayte = wait in ambush.

[1132] tree and teene = injury and grief.

[1133] osterne = austere.

[1134] of third degree = third cousins.

[1135] out-rake = holiday.

[1136] wight = strong.

_130. Sir Andrew Barton_

I

As it befel in midsummer-time,
When birds singe sweetlye on every tree,
Our noble king, King Henry the Eighth,
Over the river of Thames pass’d he.

II

He was no sooner over the river,
Downe in a forrest to take the ayre,
But eighty merchants of London citye
Came kneeling before King Henry there.

III

‘O ye are welcome, rich merchànts,
Good saylers, welcome unto me!’
They swore by the rood they were saylers good,
But rich merchànts they co’ld not be.

IV

‘To France nor Flanders dare we not passe,
Nor Bourdeaux voyage we dare not fare,
All for a false robber that lyes on the seas,
And robbs us of our merchants-ware.’

V

King Henry was stout, and he turned him about,
And swore by the Lord that was mickle of might
‘I thought he’d not been in the world throughout
That durst have wrought England such unright.’

VI

But ever they sighèd, and said, alas!
Unto King Harry this answer againe:
‘He is a proud Scott that will robb us all
Were we twenty shipps and he but one.’

VII

The King looket over his left shouldèr,
Amongst his lords and barrons so free:
‘Have I never a lord in all my realme
Will fetch yond traitor unto me?’

VIII

‘Yes, that dare I!’ says my lord Charles Howard,
Neere to the King wheras he did stand,
‘If that Your Grace will give me leave,
My self will perform what you command.’

IX

‘Thou shalt have six hundred men,’ saith our King,
‘And chuse them out of my realme so free;
[Moreover] mariners and ship boyes,
To guide the great ship on the sea.’

X

‘I’le goe speake with Sir Andrew,’ says my Lord Howard;
‘Upon the sea, if he be there;
I will bring him and his ship to shore,
Or before my prince I will ne’er come neere.’

XI

The first of all my Lord did call,
A noble gunner he was one;
This man was three score yeares and ten,
And Peter Simon was his name.

XII

‘Peter,’ says he, ‘I must sayle to the sea,
To seek out an enemy; God be my speed!
Before all others I have chosen thee;
Of a hundred gunners thou’st be my head.’

XIII

‘My lord,’ says he, ‘if you’ve chosen me
Of a hundred gunners to be the head,
You may hang me at your maine-mast tree
If I miss my mark past three pence bread[1137].’

XIV

The next of all my lord he did call,
A noble bowman he was one;
In Yorkshire was this gentleman borne,
And William Horsley was his name.

XV

‘Horsley,’ says he, ‘I must sayle to the sea,
To seek out an enemy; God be my speede!
Before all others I have chosen thee;
Of a hundred bowemen thou’st be my head.’

XVI

‘My lord,’ says he, ‘if you’ve chosen me
Of a hundred bowemen to be the head,
Hang me at your main-mast tree
If I miss my mark past twelve pence bread.’

XVII

With pikes, and gunnes, and bowmen bold,
This noble Howard is gone to the sea
On the day before Midsummer-even,
And out at Thames’ mouth saylèd they.

XVIII

They had not saylèd dayès three
Upon their journey they took in hand,
But there they met with a noble ship,
And stoutely made it both stay and stand.

XIX

‘Thou must tell me thy name,’ says Charles my lord Howard,
‘Or who thou art, or from whence thou came,
Yea, and where thy dwelling is,
To whom and where thy ship does belong.’

XX

‘My name,’ says he, ‘is Henery Hunt,
With a pure hart and a penitent mind;
I and my ship they doe belong
Unto the New-castle that stands upon Tyne.’--

XXI

‘Now thou must tell me, Henery Hunt,
As thou hast saylèd by day and by night,
Hast thou not heard of a stout robbèr?
Men calls him Sir Andrew Barton, Knight.’

XXII

But ever he sighèd, and said, ‘Alas!
Full well, my lord, I know that wight;
He has robb’d me of my merchants-ware,
And I was his pris’ner but yesternight.

XXIII

‘As I was sayling upon the sea,
And a Bourdeaux voyage as I did fare,
He claspèd me to his archèborde[1138],
And robb’d me of all my merchants-ware.

XXIV

‘And I am a man both poor and bare,
Every man will have his own of me;
And I am bound towards London to fare,
To complain unto my prince Henrye.

XXV

‘That shall not need,’ says my Lord Howard;
‘If thou canst let me this robber see,
For every penny he hath taken thee fro’
Thou shall be rewarded a shilling,’ quoth he.

XXVI

‘Now God forfend,’ says Henery Hunt,
‘My lord, you sho’ld work so far amisse!
God keep you out of that traitor’s hands!
For you wot full little what man he is.

XXVII

‘He is brasse within, and steele without,
And beams he bears in his topcastle stronge;
His ship hath ordinance clean round about;
Besides, my lord, he is very well mann’d.

XXVIII

‘He hath a pinnace is dearlye dight[1139],
Saint Andrew’s cross, that is his guide[1140];
His pinnace bears nine-score men and more,
With fifteen cannons on every side.

XXIX

‘Were you twenty ships, and he but one,
Either in archbord or in hall[1141],
He wo’ld overcome you everye one,
An if his beams they doe down fall.’

XXX

‘This is cold comfort,’ says my Lord Howard,
‘To welcome a stranger thus to the sea;
I’le bring him and his ship to shore,
Or else into Scotland he shall carry me.’

XXXI

‘Then, my lord, you must get a noble gunner;
One that can set well with his e’e,
And sink his pinnace into the sea,
And soon then overcome will he be.

XXXII

‘And when that you have done all this,
If you chance Sir Andrew for to board,
Let no man to his topcastle go;
And I will give you a glass[1142], my lord,

XXXIII

‘And then you need to fear no Scot,
Whether you sayle by day or by night;
And to-morrow, by seven of the clocke,
You shall meete with Sir Andrew Barton, Knight.’

XXXIV

The merchant set Lord Howard a glass
So well apparent in his sight
That on the morrow by seven of the clock
He spy’d Sir Andrew Barton, Knight.

XXXV

Lord Howard he swore a mighty oath
When he saw his hache-bords dearly dight;
‘Now by my faith and by my troth,
Yonder proud Scott is a worthy wight.

XXXVI

‘Take in your ancients[1143] and your standards,
Yea, that no man shall them see,
And put me forth a white willow wand,
As merchants use to sayle the sea.’

XXXVII

But they stirr’d[1144] neither top nor mast,
But Sir Andrew they passèd by.--
‘What English are yonder,’ said Sir Andrew,
‘That can[1145] so little curtesye?

XXXVIII

‘I have been admiral over the sea
[Methinketh] more then these yeeres three;
There is never an English nor Portingall dog,
Can pass this way without leave of me.

XXXIX

‘But now yonder pedlars, they are pass’d,
Which is no little grief to me:
Fetch them backe,’ sayes Sir Andrew Barton,
‘They shall all hang at my maine-mast tree.’

XL

With that the pinnace it shot off,
That my Lord Howard might it well ken;
It strokè down my lord’s fore-màst,
And kill’d fourteen of my lord his men.

XLI

‘Come hither, Simon!’ says my Lord Howard,
‘Look that thy words be true thou said;
I’le hang thee at my maine-mast tree
If thou miss thy mark past three pence bread.’

XLII

Simon was old, but his hart it was bold;
He tooke downe a piece, and laid it full low;
Chaine yeards nine he put therein,
Besides other great shot less and moe.

XLIII

With that he let his gun-shot go;
So well he settled it with his e’e,
The first sight that Sir Andrew saw,
He saw his pinnace sunk in the sea.

XLIV

When Sir Andrew saw his pinnace sunk,
Lord! in his heart he was not well!
‘Cut my ropes! it is time to be gone!
I’le goe fetch yond pedlars back mysell!’

XLV

When my Lord Howard saw Sir Andrew loose,
Lord! in his heart that he was faine!
‘Strike on your drums! spread out your ancients!
Sound out your trumpets! sound out amain!’

XLVI