Chapter 2

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 in field fighting." "Nay," said the Lord Percy, "I told it thee beforn, That I would never yielded be to no man of a woman born." With that there came an arrow hastily forth of a mighty wone; It hath stricken the Earl Douglas in at the breastbone. Through liver and lung-es both the sharp arrow is gone, That never after in all his life-days he spake mo word-es but one, That was, "Fight ye, my merry men, whilis ye may, for my life-days ben gone!" The Percy lean-ed on his brand and saw the Douglas dee; He took the dead man by the hand, and said, "Wo is me for thee! To have saved thy life I would have parted with my lands for years three, For a better man of heart nor of hand was not in all the north countree." Of all that see, a Scottish knight, was called Sir Hugh the Montgomer- y, He saw the Douglas to the death was dight, he spended a spear a trusty tree, He rode upon a coursiere through a hundred archer-y, He never stinted nor never blane till he came to the good Lord Perc-y. He set upon the Lord Percy a dint that was full sore; With a suar spear of a mighty tree clean thorough the body he the Percy bore On the tother side that a man might see a large cloth yard and more. Two better captains were not in Christiant-e than that day slain were there. An archer of Northumberland saw slain was the Lord Perc-y, He bare a bent bow in his hand was made of trusty tree, An arrow that a cloth yard was long to the hard steel hal-ed he, A dint that was both sad and sore he sat on Sir Hugh the Montgomer-y. The dint it was both sad and sore that he on Montgomery set, The swan-feathers that his arrow bare, with his heart-blood they were wet. There was never a freke one foot would flee, but still in stour did stand, Hewing on each other while they might dree with many a baleful brand. This battle began in Cheviot an hour before the noon, And when evensong bell was rang the battle was not half done. They took on either hand by the light of the moon, Many had no strength for to stand in Cheviot the hillis aboon. Of fifteen hundred archers of England went away but seventy and 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 blood run not as the rain does in the stret. Jesu Christ our balis bete, and to the bliss us bring! Thus was the hunting of the Cheviot. God send us all good ending!

CHEVY CHASE (the later version.)

God prosper long our noble king, Our lives and safeties all! A woeful hunting once there did In Chevy Chase befall.

To drive the deer with hound and horn Earl Piercy took the way; The child may rue that is unborn The hunting of that day!

The stout Earl of Northumberland, A vow to God did make, His pleasure in the Scottish woods Three summers' days to take,

The chiefest harts in Chevy Chase To kill and bear away; These tidings to Earl Douglas came In Scotland where he lay,

Who sent Earl Piercy present word He would prevent his sport. The English Earl, not fearing that, Did to the woods resort,

With fifteen hundred bowmen bold, All chosen men of might, Who knew full well in time of need To aim their shafts aright.

The gallant greyhounds swiftly ran To chase the fallow deer; On Monday they began to hunt Ere daylight did appear;

And long before high noon they had A hundred fat bucks slain. Then having dined, the drivers went To rouse the deer again.

The bowmen mustered on the hills, Well able to endure; Their backsides all with special care That day were guarded sure.

The hounds ran swiftly through the woods The nimble deer to take, That with their cries the hills and dales An echo shrill did make.

Lord Piercy to the quarry went To view the tender deer; Quoth he, "Earl Douglas promised once This day to meet me here;

"But if I thought he would not come, No longer would I stay." With that a brave young gentleman Thus to the Earl did say,

"Lo, yonder doth Earl Douglas come, His men in armour bright, Full twenty hundred Scottish spears All marching in our sight,

"All men of pleasant Tividale Fast by the river Tweed." "O cease your sports!" Earl Piercy said, "And take your bows with speed,

"And now with me, my countrymen, Your courage forth advance! For there was never champion yet In Scotland nor in France

"That ever did on horseback come, But if my hap it were, I durst encounter man for man, With him to break a spear."

Earl Douglas on his milk-white steed, Most like a baron bold, Rode foremost of his company, Whose armour shone like gold:

"Show me," said he, "whose men you be That hunt so boldly here; That without my consent do chase And kill my fallow deer."

The first man that did answer make Was noble Piercy, he, Who said, "We list not to declare, Nor show whose men we be;

"Yet we will spend our dearest blood Thy chiefest harts to slay." Then Douglas swore a solemn oath, And thus in rage did say,

"Ere thus I will outbrav-ed be, One of us two shall die! I know thee well! an earl thou art, Lord Piercy! so am I.

"But trust me, Piercy, pity it were, And great offence, to kill Any of these our guiltless men For they have done no ill;

"Let thou and I the battle try, And set our men aside." "Accurst be he," Earl Piercy said, "By whom it is denied."

Then stepped a gallant squire forth,-- Witherington was his name,-- Who said, "I would not have it told To Henry our king, for shame,

"That e'er my captain fought on foot, And I stand looking on: You be two Earls," quoth Witherington, "And I a Squire alone.

"I'll do the best that do I may, While I have power to stand! While I have power to wield my sword, I'll fight with heart and hand!"

Our English archers bent their bows-- Their hearts were good and true,-- At the first flight of arrows sent, Full fourscore Scots they slew.

To drive the deer with hound and horn, Douglas bade on the bent; Two captains moved with mickle might, Their spears to shivers went.

They closed full fast on every side, No slackness there was found, But many a gallant gentleman Lay gasping on the ground.

O Christ! it was great grief to see How each man chose his spear, And how the blood out of their breasts Did gush like water clear!

At last these two stout Earls did meet Like captains of great might; Like lions wood they laid on load, They made a cruel fight.

They fought, until they both did sweat, With swords of tempered steel, Till blood adown their cheeks like rain They trickling down did feel.

"O yield thee, Piercy!" Douglas said, "And in faith I will thee bring Where thou shalt high advanc-ed be By James our Scottish king;

"Thy ransom I will freely give, And this report of thee, Thou art the most courageous knight That ever I did see."

"No, Douglas!" quoth Earl Piercy then, "Thy proffer I do scorn; I will not yield to any Scot That ever yet was born!"

With that there came an arrow keen Out of an English bow, Which struck Earl Douglas to the heart A deep and deadly blow;

Who never said more words than these, "Fight on; my merry men all! For why? my life is at an end, Lord Piercy sees my fall."

Then leaving life, Earl Piercy took The dead man by the hand; Who said, "Earl Douglas! for thy life Would I had lost my land!

"O Christ! my very heart doth bleed For sorrow for thy sake! For sure, a more redoubted knight Mischance could never take!"

A knight amongst the Scots there was, Which saw Earl Douglas die, Who straight in heart did vow revenge Upon the Lord Pierc-y;

Sir Hugh Montgomery he was called, Who, with a spear full bright, Well mounted on a gallant steed, Ran fiercely through the fight,

And past the English archers all Without all dread or fear, And through Earl Piercy's body then He thrust his hateful spear.

With such a vehement force and might His body he did gore, The staff ran through the other side A large cloth yard and more.

So thus did both those nobles die, Whose courage none could stain. An English archer then perceived The noble Earl was slain;

He had a good bow in his hand Made of a trusty tree; An arrow of a cloth yard long To the hard head hal-ed he,

Against Sir Hugh Montgomery His shaft full right he set; The grey goose-wing that was thereon, In his heart's blood was wet.

This fight from break of day did last Till setting of the sun; For when they rung the evening bell, The battle scarce was done.

With stout Earl Piercy there was slain Sir John of Egerton, Sir Robert Harcliffe and Sir William, Sir James that bold bar-on;

And with Sir George and Sir James, Both knights of good account, Good Sir Ralph Raby there was slain, Whose prowess did surmount.

For Witherington needs must I wail As one in doleful dumps, For when his legs were smitten off, He fought upon his stumps.

And with Earl Douglas there was slain Sir Hugh Montgomery, And Sir Charles Morrel that from the field One foot would never fly;

Sir Roger Hever of Harcliffe too,-- His sister's son was he,-- Sir David Lambwell, well esteemed, But saved he could not be;

And the Lord Maxwell in like case With Douglas he did die; Of twenty hundred Scottish spears, Scarce fifty-five did fly.

Of fifteen hundred Englishmen Went home but fifty-three; The rest in Chevy Chase were slain, Under the greenwood tree.

Next day did many widows come Their husbands to bewail; They washed their wounds in brinish tears, But all would not prevail.

Their bodies, bathed in purple blood, They bore with them away; They kissed them dead a thousand times Ere they were clad in clay.

This news was brought to Edinburgh, Where Scotland's king did reign, That brave Earl Douglas suddenly Was with an arrow slain.

"O heavy news!" King James did say, "Scotland may witness be I have not any captain more Of such account as he!"

Like tidings to King Henry came Within as short a space, That Piercy of Northumberland Was slain in Chevy Chase.

"Now God be with him!" said our king, "Sith 'twill no better be, I trust I have within my realm Five hundred as good as he!

"Yet shall not Scots nor Scotland say But I will vengeance take, And be reveng-ed on them all For brave Earl Piercy's sake."

This vow the king did well perform After on Humble Down; In one day fifty knights were slain, With lords of great renown,

And of the rest of small account, Did many hundreds die: Thus ended the hunting in Chevy Chase Made by the Earl Piercy.

God save our king, and bless this land With plenty, joy, and peace, And grant henceforth that foul debate Twixt noble men may cease!

THE NUT-BROWN MAID

Be it right or wrong, these men among On women do complain; Affirming this, how that it is A labour spent in vain To love them wele; for never a dele They love a man again: For let a man do what he can, Their favour to attain, Yet, if a new to them pursue, Their first true lover than Laboureth for naught; and from her thought He is a banished man.

I say not nay, but that all day It is both writ and said That woman's faith is, as who saith, All utterly decayed; But nevertheless, right good witn-ess In this case might be laid. That they love true, and contin-ue, Record the Nut-brown Maid: Which from her love, when her to prove He came to make his moan, Would not depart; for in her heart She loved but him alone.

Then between us let us discuss What was all the manere Between them two: we will also Tell all the pain in fere That she was in. Now I begin, So that ye me answere: Wher-efore, ye, that present be I pray you give an ear. I am the knight. I come by night, As secret as I can; Saying, "Alas! thus standeth the case, I am a banished man."

And I your will for to fulfil In this will not refuse; Trusting to shew, in word-es few, That men have an ill use (To their own shame) women to blame, And causeless them accuse: Therefore to you I answer now, All women to excuse,-- "Mine own heart dear, with you what cheer? I pray you, tell anone: For, in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone."

HE. "It standeth so: a deed is do Whereof much harm shall grow; My destiny is for to die A shameful death, I trow; Or else to flee. The one must be. None other way I know, But to withdraw as an out-law, And take me to my bow. Wherefore, adieu, my own heart true! None other rede I can: For I must to the green wood go, Alone, a banished man."

SHE. "O Lord, what is this world-es bliss, That changeth as the moon! My summer's day in lusty May Is darked before the noon. I hear you say, farewell: Nay, nay! We de-part not so soon. Why say ye so? whither will ye go? Alas! what have ye done? All my welf-are to sorrow and care Should change, if ye were gone: For, in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone."

HE. "I can believe, it shall you grieve, And somewhat you distrain; But, afterward, your pain-es hard Within a day or twain Shall soon aslake; and ye shall take Com-fort to you again. Why should ye nought? for, to make thought, Your labour were in vain. And thus I do; and pray you, lo, As heartily as I can: For I must to the green wood go, Alone, a banished man."

SHE. "Now, sith that ye have shewed to me The secret of your mind, I shall be plain to you again, Like as ye shall me find. Sith it is so, that ye will go, I will not leave behind. Shall never be said, the Nut-brown Maid Was to her love unkind: Make you read-y, for so am I, Although it were anone: For, in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone."

HE. "Yet I you re-de, take good heed When men will think and say: Of young, of old, it shall be told, That ye be gone away Your wanton will for to fulfil, In green wood you to play; And that ye might from your delight No longer make delay. Rather than ye should thus for me Be called an ill wom-an, Yet would I to the green wood go, Alone, a banished man."

SHE. "Though it be sung of old and young, That I should be to blame, Theirs be the charge that speak so large In hurting of my name: For I will prove, that faithful love It is devoid of shame In your distress and heaviness To part with you the same: And sure all tho that do not so, True lovers are they none: For, in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone."

HE. "I counsel you, Remember how It is no maiden's law Nothing to doubt, but to run out To wood with an out-law; For ye must there in your hand bear A bow to bear and draw; And, as a thief, thus must ye live, Ever in dread and awe; By which to you great harm might grow: Yet had I liever than That I had to the green wood go Alone, a banished man."

SHE. "I think not nay, but as ye say, It is no maiden's lore; But love may make me for your sake, As ye have said before, To come on foot, to hunt and shoot To get us meat and store; For so that I your company May have, I ask no more; From which to part, it maketh mine heart As cold as any stone: For, in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone."

HE. "For an out-law, this is the law, That men him take and bind; Without pit-ie, hang-ed to be, And waver with the wind. If I had nede (as God forbede!) What rescues could ye find? Forsooth, I trow, you and your bow Should draw for fear behind. And no mervayle: for little avail Were in your counsel than: Wherefore I to the wood will go, Alone, a banished man."

SHE "Full well know ye, that women be Full feeble for to fight; No womanhede it is indeed To be bold as a knight; Yet, in such fear if that ye were Among enemies day and night, I would withstand, with bow in hand, To grieve them as I might, And you to save; as women have From death many a one: For, in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone."

HE. "Yet take good hede; for ever I drede That ye could not sustain The thorny ways, the deep vall-eys, The snow, the frost, the rain, The cold, the heat: for dry or wet, We must lodge on the plain; And, us above, none other roof But a brake bush or twain: Which soon should grieve you, I believe: And ye would gladly than That I had to the green wood go, Alone, a banished man."

SHE. "Sith I have here been partynere With you of joy and bliss, I must al-so part of your woe Endure, as reason is: Yet am I sure of one pleas-ure; And, shortly, it is this: That, where ye be, me seemeth, perde, I could not fare amiss. Without more speech, I you beseech That we were soon agone: For, in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone."

HE. "If ye go thyder, ye must consider, When ye have lust to dine, There shall no meat be for to gete, Nor drink, beer, ale, ne wine. Ne sheet-es clean, to lie between, Ymade of thread and twine; None other house, but leaves and boughs, To cover your head and mine; Lo mine heart sweet, this ill di-ete Should make you pale and wan: Wherefore I to the wood will go, Alone, a banished man."

SHE. "Among the wild deer, such an archere, As men say that ye be, Ne may not fail of good vitayle, Where is so great plent-y: And water clear of the rivere Shall be full sweet to me; With which in hele I shall right wele Endure, as ye shall see; And, ere we go, a bed or two I can provide anone; For, in my mind, of all mankind I love but you alone."

HE. "Lo yet, before, ye must do more, If ye will go with me: As cut your hair up by your ear, Your kirtle by the knee, With bow in hand, for to withstand Your enemies, if need be: And this same night, before daylight, To woodward will I flee. An ye will all this fulfil, Do it shortly as ye can: Else will I to the green wood go, Alone, a banished man."