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162A: The Hunting of the Cheviot

162A.1	 THE Pers  owt off Northombarlonde,
	 and avowe to God mayd he
	 That he wold hunte in the mowntayns
	 off Chyviat within days thre,
	 In the magger of dought  Dogles,
	 and all that euer with him be.
162A.2	 The fattiste hartes in all Cheviat
	 he sayd he wold kyll, and cary them away:
	 'Be my feth,' sayd the dougheti Doglas agayn,
	 'I wyll let that hontyng yf that I may.'
162A.3	 The[n]   the Pers  owt off Banborowe cam,
	 with him a myghtee meany,
	 With fifteen hondrith archares bold off blood and bone;
	 and bone;
the	 wear chosen owt of shyars thre.
162A.4	 This begane on a Monday at morn,
	 in Cheviat the hillys so he;
	 The chylde may rue that ys vn-born,
	 it wos the mor pitt .
162A.5	 The dryvars thorowe the woodees went,
	 for to reas the dear;
	 Bomen byckarte vppone the bent
	 with ther browd aros cleare.
162A.6	 Then the wyld thorowe the woodees went,
	 on euery syd  shear;
	 Greahondes thorowe the grevis glent,
	 for to kyll thear dear.
162A.7	 This begane in Chyviat the hyls abone,
	 yerly on a Monnyn-day;
	 Be that it drewe to the oware off none,
	 a hondrith fat hartees ded ther lay.
162A.8	 The blewe a mort vppone the bent,
the	 semblyde on sydis shear;
	 To the quyrry then the Pers  went,
	 to se the bryttlynge off the deare.
162A.9	 He sayd, It was the Duglas promys
	 this day to met me hear;
	 But I wyste he wolde faylle, verament;
	 a great oth the Pers  swear.
162A.10	 At the laste a squyar off Northomberlonde
	 lokyde at his hand full ny;
	 He was war a the doughetie Doglas commynge,
	 with him a myghtt  meany.
162A.11	 h with spear, bylle, and brande,
	 yt was a myghtti sight to se;
	 Hardyar men, both off hart nor hande,
	 wear not in Cristiant .
162A.12	 The wear twenti hondrith spear-men good,
	 withoute any feale;
	 The wear borne along be the watter a Twyde,
	 yth bowndees of Tividale.
162A.13	 'Leave of the brytlyng of the dear,' he sayd,
	 a+end to your bo'ys lock ye tayk good hede;
	 For neuer sithe ye wear on your mothars borne
	 had ye neuer so mickle nede.'
162A.14	 The dougheti Dogglas on a stede,
	 he rode alle his men beforne;
	 His armor glytteryde as dyd a glede;
	 a boldar barne was never born.
162A.15	 'Tell me whos men ye ar,' he says,
	 'or whos men that ye be:
	 Who gave youe leave to hunte in this Chyviat chays,
	 in the spyt of myn and of me.'
162A.16	 The first mane that ever him an answear mayd,
	 yt was the good lord Pers :
	 'We wyll not tell the whoys men we ar,' he says,
	 'Nor whos men that we be;
	 But we wyll hounte hear in this chays,
	 in the spyt of thyne and of the.
162A.17	 'The fattiste hartees in all Chyviat
	 we haue kyld, and cast to carry them away:'
	 'Be my troth,' sayd the doughet  Dogglas agay[n],
	 'therfor the ton of vs shal de this day.'
162A.18	 Then sayd the dought  Doglas
	 unto the lord Pers :
	 'To kyll alle thes giltles men,
	 alas, it wear great pitt !
162A.19	 But, Pers, thowe art a lord of lande,
	 I am a yerle callyd within my contr ;
	 Let all our men vppone a parti stande,
	 and do the battell off the and of me.'
162A.20	 'Nowe Cristes cors on his crowne,' sayd the lorde Pers,
	 'who-so-euer ther-to says nay!
	 Be my troth, doughtte Doglas,' he says,
	 'Thow shalt neuer se that day.
162A.21	 'Nethar in Ynglonde, Skottlonde, nar France,
	 nor for no man of a woman born,
	 But, and fortune be my chance,
	 I dar met him, on man for on.'
162A.22	 Then bespayke a squyar off Northombarlonde,
	 Richard Wytharyngton was him nam;
	 'It shal neuer be told in Sothe-Ynglonde,' he says,
	 'To Kyng Herry the Fourth for sham.
162A.23	 'I wat youe byn great lordees twaw,
	 I am a poor squyar of lande;
	 I wylle neuer se my captayne fyght on a fylde,
	 and stande my selffe and loocke on,
	 But whylle I may my weppone welde,
	 I wylle not  [fayle]  both hart and hande.'
162A.24	 That day, that day, that dredfull day!
the	 first fit here I fynde;
	 And youe wyll here any mor a the hountynge a the Chyviat,
	 yet ys ther mor behynde.
162A.25	 The Yngglyshe men hade ther bowys yebent,
ther	hartes wer good yenoughe;
	 The first off arros that the shote off,
	 seven skore spear-men the sloughe.
162A.26	 Yet byddys the yerle Doglas vppon the bent,
	 a captayne good yenoughe,
	 And that was sene verament,
	 for he wrought hom both woo and wouche.
162A.27	 The Dogglas partyd his ost in thre,
	 lyk a cheffe cheften off pryde;
	 With suar spears off myghtt  tre,
	 the cum in on euery syde;
162A.28	 Thrughe our Yngglyshe archery
	 gave many a wounde fulle wyde;
	 Many a doughet  the garde to dy,
	 which ganyde them no pryde.
162A.29	 The Ynglyshe men let ther bo'ys be,
	 and pulde owt brandes that wer brighte;
	 It was a hevy syght to se
	 bryght swordes on basnites lyght.
162A.30	 Thorowe ryche male and myneyeple,
	 many sterne the strocke done streght;
	 Many a freyke that was fulle fre,
	 ther vndar foot dyd lyght.
162A.31	 At last the Duglas and the Pers  met,
	 lyk to captayns of myght and of mayne;
	 The swapte toghethar tylle the both swat,
	 with swordes that wear of fyn myllan.
162A.32	 Thes worth  freckys for to fyght,
ther-to	the wear fulle fayne,
	 Tylle the bloode owte off thear basnetes sprente,
	 as euer dyd heal or ra[y]n.
162A.33	 'Yelde the, Pers,' sayde the Doglas,
	 a+end i feth I shalle the brynge
	 Wher thowe shalte haue a yerls wagis
	 of Jamy our Skottish kynge.
162A.34	 'Thoue shalte haue thy ransom fre,
	 I hight the hear this thinge;
	 For the manfullyste man yet art thowe
	 that euer I conqueryd in filde fighttynge.'
162A.35	 'Nay,' sayd the lord Pers,
	 'I tolde it the beforne,
	 That I wolde neuer yeldyde be
	 to no man of a woman born.'
162A.36	 With that ther cam an arrowe hastely,
	 forthe off a myghtt  wane;
	 Hit hathe strekene the yerle Duglas
	 in at the brest-bane.
162A.37	 Thorowe lyvar and longees bathe
	 the sharpe arrowe ys gane,
That	neuer after in all his lyffe-days
	 he spayke mo wordees but ane:
That	was, Fyghte ye, my myrry men, whyllys ye may,
	 for my lyff-days ben gan.
162A.38	 The Pers  leanyde on his brande,
	 and sawe the Duglas de;
	 He tooke the dede mane by the hande,
	 and sayd, Wo ys me for the!
162A.39	 'To haue savyde thy lyffe, I wolde haue partyde with
	 my landes for years thre,
	 For a better man, of hart nare of hande,
	 was nat in all the north contr .'
162A.40	 Off all that se a Skottishe knyght,
	 was callyd Ser Hewe the Monggombyrry;
	 He sawe the Duglas to the deth was dyght,
	 he spendyd a spear, a trusti tre.
162A.41	 He rod vppone a corsiare
	 throughe a hondrith archery:
	 He neuer stynttyde, nar neuer blane,
	 tylle he cam to the good lord Pers .
162A.42	 He set vppone the lorde Pers 
	 a dynte that was full soare;
	 With a suar spear of a myghte  tre
	 clean thorow the body he the Pers  ber,
162A.43	 A the tothar syde that a man myght se
	 a large cloth-yard and mare:
	 Towe bettar captayns wear nat in Cristiant 
	 then that day slan wear ther.
162A.44	 An archar off Northomberlonde
	 say slean was the lord Pers ;
	 He bar a bende bowe in his hand,
	 was made off trusti tre.
162A.45	 An arow that a cloth-yarde was lang
	 to the harde stele halyde he;
	 A dynt that was both sad and soar
	 he sat on Ser Hewe the Monggombyrry.
162A.46	 The dynt yt was both sad and sar
that	he of Monggomberry sete;
The	 swane-fethars that his arrowe bar
	 with his hart-blood the wear wete.
162A.47	 Ther was neuer a freake wone foot wolde fle,
	 but still in stour dyd stand,
	 Heawyng on yche othar, whylle the myghte dre,
	 with many a balfull brande.
162A.48	 This battell begane in Chyviat
	 an owar befor the none,
	 And when even-songe bell was rang,
	 the battell was nat half done.
162A.49	 The tocke . . on ethar hande
	 be the lyght off the mone;
	 Many hade no strenght for to stande,
	 in Chyviat the hillys abon.
162A.50	 Of fifteen hondrith archars of Ynglonde
	 went away but seuenti and thre;
	 Of twenti hondrith spear-men of Skotlonde,
	 but even five and fifti.
162A.51	 But all wear slayne Cheviat within;
the	 hade no streng[th]e to stand on hy;
	 The chylde may rue that ys unborne,
	 it was the mor pitt .
162A.52	 Thear was slayne, withe the lord Pers,
	 Ser Johan of Agerstone,
	 Ser Rogar, the hinde Hartly,
	 Ser Wyllyam, the bolde Hearone.
162A.53	 Ser Jorg, the worth  Loumle,
	 a knyghte of great renowen,
	 Ser Raff, the ryche Rugbe,
	 with dyntes wear beaten dowene.
162A.54	 For Wetharryngton my harte was wo,
that	euer he slayne shulde be;
	 For when both his leggis wear hewyne in to,
	 yet he knyled and fought on hys kny.
162A.55	 Ther was slayne, with the dougheti Duglas,
	 Ser Hewe the Monggombyrry,
	 Ser Dauy Lwdale, that worth  was,
	 his sistars son was he.
162A.56	 Ser Charls a Murr  in that place,
that	neuer a foot wolde fle;
	 Ser Hewe Maxwelle, a lorde he was,
	 with the Doglas dyd he dey.
162A.57	 So on the morrowe the mayde them byears
	 off birch and hasell so g[r]ay;
	 Many wedous, with wepyng tears,
	 cam to fache ther makys away.
162A.58	 Tivydale may carpe off care,
	 Northombarlond may mayk great mon,
	 For towe such captayns as slayne wear thear
	 on the March-parti shall neuer be non.
162A.59	 Word ys commen to Eddenburrowe,
	 to Jamy the Skottishe kynge,
	 That dougheti Duglas, lyff-tenant of the Marches,
	 he lay slean Chyviot within.
162A.60	 His handd s dyd he weal and wryn7 he sayd, Alas, and woe ys me!
	 Such an othar captayn Skotland within,
	 he sayd, ye-feth shuld neuer be.
162A.61	 Worde ys commyn to lovly Londone,
	 till the fourth Harry our kynge,
That	lord Pers, leyff-tenante of the Marchis,
	 he lay slayne Chyviat within.
162A.62	 'God haue merci on his solle,' sayde Kyng Harry,
	 'good lord, yf thy will it be!
	 I haue a hondrith captayns in Ynglonde,' he sayd,
	 a+es good as euer was he:
	 But, Pers, and I brook my lyffe,
	 thy deth well quyte shall be.'
162A.63	 As our noble kynge mayd his avowe,
	 lyke a noble prince of renowen,
	 For the deth of the lord Pers 
	 he dyde the battell of Hombyll-down;
162A.64	 Wher syx and thritt  Skottishe knyghtes
	 on a day wear beaten down;
	 Glendale glytteryde on ther armor bryght,
	 over castille, towar, and town.
162A.65	 This was the hontynge off the Cheviat,
	 that tear begane this spurn;
	 Old men that knowen t8e grownde well yenoughe
	 call it the battell of Otterburn.
162A.66	 At Otterburn begane this spurne,
	 vppone a Monnynday;
	 Ther was the dought  Doglas slean,
the	 Pers  neuer went away.
162A.67	 Ther was neuer a tym on the Marche-part s
	 sen the Doglas and the Pers  met,
	 But yt ys mervele and the rede blude ronne not,
	 as the reane doys in the stret.
162A.68	 Ihesue Crist our balys bete,
	 and to the blys vs brynge!
	 Thus was the hountynge of the Chivyat:
	 God send vs alle good endyng!

162B: The Hunting of the Cheviot

162B.1	 GOD prosper long our noble king,
	 our liffes and saftyes all!
	 A woefull hunting once there did
	 in Cheuy Chase befall.
162B.2	 To driue the deere with hound and horne
	 Erle Pearcy took the way:
	 The child may rue that is vnborne
	 the hunting of that day!
162B.3	 The stout Erle of Northumberland
	 a vow to God did make
	 His pleasure in the Scottish woods
	 three sommers days to take,
162B.4	 The cheefest harts in Cheuy C[h]ase
	 to kill and beare away:
	 These tydings to Erle Douglas came
	 in Scottland, where he lay.
162B.5	 Who sent Erle Pearcy present word
	 he wold prevent his sport;
	 The English erle, not fearing that,
	 did to the woods resort,
162B.6	 With fifteen hundred bowmen bold,
	 all chosen men of might,
	 Who knew full well in time of neede
	 to ayme their shafts arright.
162B.7	 The gallant greyhound[s]   swiftly ran
	 to chase the fallow deere;
	 On Munday they began to hunt,
	 ere daylight did appeare.
162B.8	 And long before high noone the had
	 a hundred fat buckes slaine;
	 Then hauing dined, the drouyers went
	 to rouze the deare againe.
162B.9	 The bowmen mustered on the hills,
	 well able to endure;
	 Theire backsids all with speciall care
that	day were guarded sure.
162B.10	 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.
162B.11	 Lord Pearcy to the querry went
	 to veiw the tender deere;
	 Quoth he, Erle Douglas promised once
	 this day to meete me heere;
162B.12	 But if I thought he wold not come,
	 noe longer wold I stay.
	 With that a braue younge gentlman
	 thus to the erle did say:
162B.13	 'Loe, yonder doth Erle Douglas come,
	 hys men in armour bright;
	 Full twenty hundred Scottish speres
	 all marching in our sight.
162B.14	 'All men of pleasant Tiuydale,
	 fast by the riuer Tweede:'
	 'O ceaze your sportts!' Erle Pearcy said,
	 a+end take your bowes with speede.
162B.15	 'And now with me, my countrymen,
	 your courage forth advance!
	 For there was neuer champion yett,
	 in Scottland nor in Ffrance,
162B.16	 'That euer did on horsbacke come,
	 [but],   and if my hap it were,
	 I durst encounter man for man,
	 with him to breake a spere.'
162B.17	 Erle Douglas on his milke-white steede,
	 most like a baron bold,
	 Rode formost of his company,
	 whose armor shone like gold.
162B.18	 'Shew me,' sayd hee, 'whose men you bee
that	hunt soe boldly heere,
That	without my consent doe chase
	 and kill my fallow deere.'
162B.19	 The first man that did answer make
	 was noble Pearcy hee,
	 Who sayd, Wee list not to declare
	 nor shew whose men wee bee;
162B.20	 'Yett wee will spend our deerest blood
	 thy cheefest harts to slay.'
	 Then Douglas swore a solempne oathe,
	 and thus in rage did say:
162B.21	 'Ere thus I will outbraued bee,
	 one of vs tow shall dye;
	 I know thee well, an erle thou art;
	 Lord Pearcy, soe am I.
162B.22	 'But trust me, Pearcye, pittye it were,
	 and great offence, to kill
	 Then any of these our guiltlesse men,
	 for they haue done none ill.
162B.23	 'Let thou and I the battell trye,
	 and set our men aside:'
	 'Accurst bee [he!]' Erle Pearcye sayd,
	 'By whome it is denyed.'
162B.24	 Then stept a gallant squire forth-+-
	 Witherington was his name-+-
	 Who said, 'I wold not haue it told
	 to Henery our king, for shame,
162B.25	 'That ere my captaine fought on foote,
	 and I stand looking on.
	 You bee two Erles,' quoth Witheringhton,
	 and I a squier alone;
162B.26	 'I'le doe the best that doe I may,
	 while I haue power to stand;
	 While I haue power to weeld my sword,
	 I'le fight with hart and hand.'
162B.27	 Our English archers bent their bowes;
	 their harts were good and trew;
	 Att the first flight of arrowes sent,
	 full foure score Scotts the slew.
162B.28	 To driue the deere with hound and horne,
	 Dauglas bade on the bent;
	 Two captaines moued with mickle might,
	 their speres to shiuers went.
162B.29	 They closed full fast on euerye side,
	 noe slacknes there was found,
	 But many a gallant gentleman
	 lay gasping on the ground.
162B.30	 O Christ! it was great greeue to see
	 how eche man chose his spere,
	 And how the blood out of their brests
	 did gush like water cleare.
162B.31	 At last these two stout erles did meet,
	 like captaines of great might;
	 Like lyons woode they layd on lode;
	 the made a cruell fight.
162B.32	 The fought vntill they both did sweat,
	 with swords of tempered steele,
	 Till blood downe their cheekes like raine
	 the trickling downe did feele.
162B.33	 'O yeeld thee, Pearcye!' Douglas sayd,
	 a+end in faith I will thee bringe
	 Where thou shall high advanced bee
	 by Iames our Scottish king.
162B.34	 'Thy ransome I will freely giue,
	 and this report of thee,
	 Thou art the most couragious knight
	 [that ever I did see.]'
162B.35	 'Noe, Douglas!' quoth Erle Percy then,
	 'Thy profer I doe scorne;
	 I will not yeelde to any Scott
that	euer yett was borne!'
162B.36	 With that there came an arrow keene,
	 out of an English bow,
	 Which stroke Erle Douglas on the brest
	 a deepe and deadlye blow.
162B.37	 Who neuer sayd more words then these:
	 Fight on, my merry men all!
	 For why, my life is att [an] end,
	 lord Pearcy sees my fall.
162B.38	 Then leauing liffe, Erle Pearcy tooke
	 the dead man by the hand;
	 Who said, 'Erle Dowglas, for thy life,
	 wold I had lost my land!
162B.39	 'O Christ! my verry hart doth bleed
	 for sorrow for thy sake,
	 For sure, a more redoubted knight
	 mischance cold neuer take.'
162B.40	 A knight amongst the Scotts there was
	 which saw Erle Douglas dye,
	 Who streight in hart did vow revenge
	 vpon the Lord Pearcye.
162B.41	 Sir Hugh Mountgomerye was he called,
	 who, with a spere full bright,
	 Well mounted on a gallant steed,
	 ran feircly through the fight,
162B.42	 And past the English archers all,
	 without all dread or feare,
	 And through Erle Percyes body then
	 he thrust his hatfull spere.
162B.43	 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.
162B.44	 Thus did both these nobles dye,
	 whose courage none cold staine;
	 An English archer then perceiued
	 the noble erle was slaine.
162B.45	 He had [a]   good bow in his hand,
	 made of a trusty tree;
	 An arrow of a cloth-yard long
	 to the hard head haled hee.
162B.46	 Against Sir Hugh Mountgomerye
	 his shaft full right he sett;
	 The grey-goose-winge that was there-on
	 in his harts bloode was wett.
162B.47	 This fight from breake of day did last
	 till setting of the sun,
	 For when the rung the euening-bell
	 the battele scarse was done.
162B.48	 With stout Erle Percy there was slaine
	 Sir Iohn of Egerton,
	 Sir Robert Harcliffe and Sir William,
	 Sir Iames, that bold barron.
162B.49	 And with Sir George and Sir Iames,
	 both knights of good account,
	 Good Sir Raphe Rebbye there was slaine,
	 whose prowesse did surmount.
162B.50	 For Witherington needs must I wayle
	 as one in dolefull dumpes,
	 For when his leggs were smitten of,
	 he fought vpon his stumpes.
162B.51	 And with Erle Dowglas there was slaine
	 Sir Hugh Mountgomerye,
	 And Sir Charles Morrell, that from feelde
	 one foote wold neuer flee;
162B.52	 Sir Roger Heuer of Harcliffe tow,
	 his sisters sonne was hee;
	 Sir David Lambwell, well esteemed,
	 but saved he cold not bee.
162B.53	 And the Lord Maxwell, in like case,
	 with Douglas he did dye;
	 Of twenty hundred Scottish speeres,
	 scarce fifty-fiue did flye.
162B.54	 Of fifteen hundred Englishmen
	 went home but fifty-three;
	 The rest in Cheuy Chase were slaine,
	 vnder the greenwoode tree.
162B.55	 Next day did many widdowes come
	 their husbands to bewayle;
	 They washt their wounds in brinish teares,
	 but all wold not prevayle.
162B.56	 Theyr bodyes, bathed in purple blood,
	 the bore with them away;
	 They kist them dead a thousand times
	 ere the were cladd in clay.
162B.57	 The newes was brought to Eddenborrow,
	 where Scottlands king did rayne,
That	braue Erle Douglas soddainlye
	 was with an arrow slaine.
162B.58	 'O heauy newes!' King Iames can say;
	 'Scottland may wittenesse bee
	 I haue not any captaine more
	 of such account as hee.'
162B.59	 Like tydings to King Henery came,
	 within as short a space,
That	Pearcy of Northumberland
	 was slaine in Cheuy Chase.
162B.60	 'Now God be with him!' said our king,
	 'Sith it will noe better bee;
	 I trust I haue within my realme
	 fiue hundred as good as hee.
162B.61	 'Yett shall not Scotts nor Scottland say
	 but I will vengeance take,
	 And be revenged on them all
	 for braue Erle Percyes sake.'
162B.62	 This vow the king did well performe
	 after on Humble-downe;
	 In one day fifty knights were slayne,
	 with lords of great renowne.
162B.63	 And of the rest, of small account,
	 did many hundreds dye:
	 Thus endeth the hunting in Cheuy Chase,
	 made by the Erle Pearcye.
162B.64	 God saue our king, and blesse this land
	 with plentye, ioy, and peace,
	 And grant hencforth that foule debate
	 twixt noble men may ceaze!

Next: 163. The Battle of Harlaw