PART I
God prosper long our noble King, Our liffes and saftyes all! A woefull hunting once there was In Chevy-Chase befall.
To drive the deere with hound and horne, Erle Percy took the way; The child may rue that is unborne The hunting of that day!
The stout Erle of Northumberland A vow to God did make, His pleasure in the Scottish woods Three sommers days to take;
The cheefest harts in Chevy-Chase To kill and beare away. These tydings to Erle Douglas came, In Scottland where he lay,
Who sent Erle Percy present word, He wold prevent his sport, The English Erle, not fearing that, Did to the woods resort,
With fifteen hundred bowmen bold, All chosen men of might, Who knew ffull well in time of neede To ayme their shafts arright.
The gallant greyhounds swiftly ran To chase the fallow deere; On Munday they began to hunt Ere daylight did appeare;
And long before high noone they had A hundred fat buckes slaine. Then having dined, the drovyers went To rouze the deare againe;
The bowmen mustered on the hills, Well able to endure; Theire backsids all with speciall care, That day were guarded sure.
The hounds ran swiftly through the woods The nimble deere to take, That with their cryes the hills and dales An eccho shrill did make.
Lord Percy to the quarry went To view the tender deere; Quoth he, “Erle Douglas promised once This day to meete me heere;
But if I thought he wold not come, Noe longer wold I stay.” With that, a brave younge gentlman Thus to the Erle did say,
“Loe, yonder doth Erle Douglas come, His men in armour bright, Full twenty hundred Scottish speres All marching in our sight,
“All men of pleasant Tivydale, Fast by the river Tweede:” “O ceaze your sportts!” Erle Percy said, “And take your bowes with speede.
“And now with me, my countrymen, Your courage forth advance! For there was never champion yett In Scottland nor in France,
“That ever did on horsbacke come, But if my hap it were, I durst encounter man for man, With him to breake a spere.”
Erle Douglas on his milke white steede, Most like a Baron bold, Rode formost of his company, Whose armour shone like gold.
“Shew me,” sayd hee, “whose men you bee, That hunt soe boldly heere, That without my consent doe chase And kill my fallow deere.”
The first man that did answer make Was noble Percy hee, Who sayd, “Wee list not to declare, Nor shew whose men wee bee.
“Yett wee will spend our deerest blood Thy cheefest harts to slay.” Then Douglas swore a solempne oathe, And thus in rage did say;
“Ere thus I will outbraved bee, One of us tow shall dye! I know thee well! an Erle thou art, Lord Percy! Soe am I;
“But trust me, Percye, pittye it were, And great offence, to kill Then any of these our guiltlesse men, For they have done none ill;
“Let thou and I the battell trye, And set our men aside.” “Accurst bee he!” Erle Percy sayd, “By whome it is denyed.”
Then stept a gallant Squire forth,-- Witherington was his name,-- Who said, “I wold not have it told To Henery our King, for shame,
“That ere my captaine fought on foote, And I stand looking on: You bee two Erles,” quoth Witherington, “And I a Squier alone,
“Ile doe the best that doe I may, While I have power to stand! While I have power to weeld my sword, Ile fight with hart and hand!”
Our English archers bend their bowes-- Their harts were good and trew,-- Att the first flight of arrowes sent, Full foure score Scotts they slew.
To drive the deere with hound and horne, Douglas bade on the bent; Two captaines moved with mickle might Their speres to shivers went.
They closed full fast on everye side, Noe slacknes there was found, But many a gallant gentleman Lay gasping on the ground.
O Christ! it was great greeve to see How eche man chose his spere, And how the blood out of their brests Did gush like water cleare!
At last these two stout Erles did meet Like captaines of great might; Like Lyons wood they layd on lode, They made a cruell fight.
They fought untill they both did sweat, With swords of tempered steele, Till blood a-downe their cheekes like raine They trickling downe did feele.
“O yeeld thee, Percye!” Douglas sayd, And infaith I will thee bringe Where thou shall high advanced bee By James our Scottish King;
“Thy ransome I will freely give, And this report of thee, Thou art the most couragious Knight That ever I did see.”
“Noe, Douglas!” quoth Erle Percy then, “Thy profer I doe scorne; I will not yeelde to any Scott That ever yett was borne!”
With that there came an arrow keene Out of an English bow, Who scorke Erle Douglas on the brest A deepe and deadlye blow;
Who never sayd more words then these, “Fight on my merrymen all! For why, my life is att an end, Lord Percy sees my fall.”
Then leaving liffe, Erle Percy tooke The dead man by the hand; And said, “Erle Douglas! for thy sake Wold I had lost my land!
“O Christ! my verry hart doth bleed For sorrow for thy sake! For sure, a more redoubted Knight, Mischance cold never take!”